Symphony
Senior Weyrwoman
just leave me your stardust to remember you by.
Posts: 152
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Post by Symphony on Apr 20, 2008 2:39:01 GMT -5
Blue Desdenoth Name: Desdenoth Pronunciation: DES den OATH Age: Hatchling Color: Blue Egg: Deceptive Egg Clutch: Smoke & Mirrors Lineage: Gold Freseath & Bronze Ruinith Looks To: Tenmor - T'mor Physical Description: Ever heard the phrase "Dynamite comes in small packages!"? Well, Desdenoth embodies it quite nicely. He is a rather small dragon and awkwardly proportioned at hatching, which will likely result in some teasing. He is all wings, legs and tail, and until he grows into the larger limbs, his neck will look short and stumpy, his body slightly too large. In short, this little dragon will look almost chubby for the first few sevendays after he hatches, but have no fear: this best fits under the description of baby fat and he will completely shed it all before adulthood. As he grows Desdenoth will become a more stream-lined dragon, built for those quick twists that the larger colors envy, though he will always have a slightly awkward proportioning; his wings will always be too big for him, his tail always a touch too long to be considered normal, but let no fool dare say such things to him as he's not above trying to flame someone for the insult. Deep seas of blues with touches of near-green make up Desdenoth's hide. His tail is dark, nearly navy, with a lighter azure spot right on the wedged tip, as if someone dropped a splatter of paint. The bulk of his body is a blue-green shade leaning more toward blue but faintly resembling the oceans at high noon, complete with an almost gem-like highlight. His neckridges, wing edges and head knobs are a much brighter sapphire blue that stands out against the more dark shades of his hide. Icy blue 'socks' spread up his legs, completing his eccentric but nonetheless well-blended appearance. In a crowd this blue will surely stand out. Personality: "I am always right." This is the mindset of Desdenoth. He is always right and there is no arguing with him. He is an extraordinarily stubborn creature, who literally will argue with anything he disagrees with, whether it has a point or not - he is likely to argue with his rider on whether or not he should have to be bathed, never mind that his hide is flaking. He is bossy and feels he has to be in charge at all times, and reigning in that demanding streak will be a chore for is rider. Convincing him he has any flaws will be like talking to a brick wall, but with enough persuasion he can be convinced to at least listen to his bonded, if no one else (save for queens and the Weyrleaders). This stubborn streak will likely lead him to aspire to positions of power or status - and woe betide the fool who gets in his way. This blue thinks that he should be in charge of everyone, and while he is definitely not suited to it, it will be very hard to stop him from trying. He is likely to be scorned by many in Weyrling years for being a showoff and for being bossy. Working with partners isn't his strong point, and getting assigned to a wing that works will be difficult. It will take wingleaders of a special breed to make Desdenoth learn to respect them. However, Desdenoth is not without his strong points. Despite the fact that he is rather conceited, he is also a fiercely loyal dragon. His rider is the person who he has always believed in - and part of his drive to succeed and be the best stems from his inherent desire to make all of Pern see that his rider is most deserving of their attention and admiration, that he and his rider are worth respect. He is an excellent listener as far as problems are concerned as he does not judge his rider at all; this is the person he chose, his lifemate, so how can he have any flaws? He's also extremely hard to get down, as he so believes in himself that he's always content to brush off criticisms. This can also be a flaw as he is likely to not listen when someone is making a genuine suggestion, but... what's life without a little excitement?
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Post by Boobalicious on Apr 20, 2008 5:11:03 GMT -5
[[Short and not so sweet but here it is...]]
He was here. Jevorin looked out across the sand from where he stood. He had been sure to arrive early, not wanting to risk being late to his first Hatching. He presented himself to the queen as was expected, having learned a valuable lesson from the touching. Now he stood with fellow hopefuls and watched as the eggs rocked, shuddered, and cracked before them. On the outside, the candidate was smooth and calm, all of his thoughts pulled inward rather than being displayed on his face. But the truth was, Jevorin was as nervous and excited as anyone else on the Hatching Grounds. Would he walk away with a life long companion or would he walk off the sand with nothing?
All thoughts froze momentarily as the first egg shattered, revealing a blue. He was… odd looking, strangely proportioned, but the more Jevorin looked at him, the more beautiful he became. Holding his breath, he wondered if all dragon hatchlings were like that. Were they all strange looking at first, then became more comely as one looked at them? It was an interesting theory. But the blue passed him up, Impressing instead to Tenmor. Or was that T’mor? Or something else? Brown eyes watched the pair leave the Sands together, but something drew his attention away from them, back toward the clutch.
A brown. A very… brown brown. The urge to laugh came over him as he watched the hatchling wobble to his feet and then plop over again upon receiving a bump from the queen’s tail. Aside from his color, which the candidate had immediately likened to leavings from some animal, he was a handsome dragonet. Whoever he chose would be lucky indeed. Folding his arms, Jevorin watched the Hatching intently, determined not to miss another moment as he had the brown’s hatching.
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Post by Yakura on Apr 20, 2008 12:36:18 GMT -5
Tenmor spared a glance at the hatching eggs again, though the chubby little blue drew his attention back. The Deceptive Blue moved with undeniable grace, despite the fact that his wings dragged behind him. His hide was the thing that drew Tenmor's attention most, for it was varied and yet perfectly blended, even with the icy blue socks that he bore. His color more than made up for his distinct baby fat and somewhat disproportioned body. Tenmor couldn't help but smile as the little dragon drew closer, watching the blue inspect everyone. The little thing certainly was taking his time and making sure that he had figured each Candidate out before he stopped abruptly before Tenmor, the boy holding his breath in anticipation as the blue inspected him just as he had the others.
The blue opened his maw and let out a deafening shriek of demand, causing Tenmor to wince at the high sound. T'mine, your Desdenoth has been kept waiting far too long. I'm hungry now! T'mor blinked, confusion washing over him for a second as the chill voice spoke into his mind. Into his mind? This little blue..Desdenoth...was his then? Desdenoth's tail thrashed impatiently, sand rising in a pale spray behind him, watching T'mor with bright eyes, red swirling in with the blue and green. What was His doing, sitting here waiting for something to happen? He gave another shriek of demand, louder this time, the high pitch whining over the Sands. I am hungry now, T'mine! Fetch me food! He demanded again, flaring his wings in his ire.
Realization struck T'mor like a wave and he fell to his knees before the impatient blue, oblivious to the hot sand that dug into his flesh. The blue was beautiful, his hide gleaming with a gem-like quality, blue-green and vivid. It was reminiscent of the seas, the color deepening to a dark navy like the deepest of depths on Desdenoth's tail. His neckridges, the tips of his wingsails, and head knobs, on the other hand, were like sapphire, pure and bright, as well as his strange socks, ice blue and as cold as his voice had been. T'mor set his hand gently on the blue neck, as if unbelieving until he touched his dragon physically.
"Of...of course, Desdenoth," he murmured, his voice lost and brusque. The blue snorted impatiently and gave T'mor a nudge that knocked him backwards. He wanted food now, and even His would not stop him from getting it. T'mor obediently stood up even as Desdenoth pressed closer, screeching a demand for food again, though luckily somewhat softer this time. The blue had left all thought of the Hatching behind, as had T'mor, who knew that he had best feed Desdenoth before the blue did something rash, such as attempt to take a bite out of a nearby Candidate to assuage his hunger. Hiding a smile, T'mor hastened away with his new blue leading the way, the dragon padding along ahead without a regard for anyone who he happened to push aside. After all, he was hungry now and they should have to wait for him.
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Post by Neeuqtar on Apr 20, 2008 16:49:28 GMT -5
The blue found His with little difficulty, and the next egg to Hatch was an unfortunate-looking brown, also not needing Tira's attention. Blues and browns were for the male Candidates on the Sands; Tiramnet would only turn her attention to the dragons on the Sands when a green or the gold broke from their shells.
All around her, the hum sang through the air, vibrating through her very bones. It was pure music, the deepest of power, and her voice sang and blended with those of the dragons. She felt like a hawk, soaring on winds of song, and her eyes closed, though Tira felt almost as if she could see what was going on from the sound around her. Was this the sound of the life she might have, flight and wind and wing and air? Or would it be only a memory, as she trained her birds and watched the dragons wheel above?
The answer could even lie in one of the eggs before her...
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Post by tarra on Apr 21, 2008 4:01:30 GMT -5
Tsarkor watched the newly-hatched blue approach, admiring the undeniable sturdiness of its gait, the confidence with which it carried itself. There were herdbeasts that, once calved, showed themselves to be creatures of elegance within their first few candlemarks. There were runners who, upon birth itself, already held their own auras of dignity, demanding attention and respect from all, human handlers nothwithstanding. The blue dragonet, young though he was, was certainly one of them, and the boy was almost wistful as it passed him by.
Until more movement on the Sands caught his eye. Tsarkor looked back, caught view of the brown holding stone-still as rock in the remnants of his shell, wings still wrapped about him, and caught his own breath. Such control, such poise. Perhaps dragonets were made to amaze, each a wondrous thing on its own.
Then a small cheer went up as the blue Impressed, and the brown relaxed, tumbled, came to footing and began stumbling towards them. The boy flinched a mite as the Queen urged the small one on his way, sending him sprawling, and then his attention was caught by another boy pushing him aside. Desdenoth and Tenmor were making their way off the Sands, pushing a swath through the crowd of candidates. The jostling knocked him towards the eggs, and he caught himself before he fell, stumbled away, regained his balance.
Tsarkor looked once more at the eggs, and his breath caught once more. He would have expected the Blurry Egg to hatch, but the Dusty Egg had beaten it, and now the brown with the massive wings was sweeping the crowd with his gaze. This was turning out to be quite a Hatching. He only hoped he would make it off with all limbs intact. He was really fairly close to the rest of the Clutch and the wobbling brown, near the fringe of the candidte crowd.
He watched, feet burning in the blood-hot Sands, and waited.
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Post by Missa on Apr 21, 2008 4:32:27 GMT -5
Despite there being no reason for her to do so, Aaria was a little worried, watching the blue with curiousity and ill-hidden concern. What would it mean if he didn't find what he was looking for? What if he wasn't there, what happened to those that didn't find their rider on that day they hatched, what happened if the person destined for them showed up later? Well obviously the dragonet went between, a chilling thought, but what about the person?
It seemed that Aaria had worried for nothing, the chubby little blue making his decision rather quickly to a boy Aaria didn't know, probably demanding food for an empty stomach after being trapped in that little egg for such a long time. Would all of them pair off that easily? Hopefully, it was always good when they managed to just find theirs, no creeling, no betweening sounded pretty good to her at this point.
It wasn't the Blurry Egg to hatch next, despite the constant rocking, instead, another - the Dusty Egg - shattered in it's place. A.. Brown. Not a flattering shade, but still a brown. Smiling slightly at the way he wrapped his wings about himself. Like he was shy, or embarrassed, or maybe just cold? She wouldn't blame him, it was definately getting cooler, though her feet were warm enough.
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Symphony
Senior Weyrwoman
just leave me your stardust to remember you by.
Posts: 152
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Post by Symphony on Apr 22, 2008 4:44:57 GMT -5
The little brown hatchling slowly lifted his head and swiveled around to look at Ariannalyth, though his interest was lost near immediately. Whatever the queen found so amusing, he didn't think he wanted to know about it, so he turned his gaze to the candidates... before finding, at last, the one that suited him. His wings spread and, in excitement, he proceeded to barrel across the sands, the awkward movements enhanced by the sudden burst of speed. At the end of the group of candidates he came to an abrupt and messy stop, again toppling over and actually falling onto his side. Creeling his distress, he reached out with a claw to catch the hem of Lienau's robe, as though that one swat could keep him safe - safe and his. No one else was allowed to touch his chosen... or at least, not until he managed to make himself more presentable! The hatchling squirmed in the sands, trying to shake off the dizziness of his fall.
L'nau mine, L'nau mine, your Varaneth hurts, but at least I found you! he exclaimed, no doubt delighted that none of his clutch siblings had decided to 'steal' his L'nau in the time that it took him to reach the candidate. Rising completely gracelessly back to his feet, he crooned, though the sound was squeaky and spoke of youth. Feed me, please?
Back at the clutch, the Soot Egg had begun hatching, if the big hole in the top was anything to judge by. A green wedge shaped tail slipped out the hole, wiggling around in the sands... before the egg completely rolled over. More cracks appeared, and the revealed tail twitched most insistently. Over onto the side the egg rolled, before wobbling out of the nest, cracks forming with each movement. Then all at once it rolled right back toward the nest before cracking away as the little green hatchling wobbled out and slammed, hard, into the Mist Egg. The abrupt force caused the smaller Mist Egg to crack, but the little green dragonet seemed oblivious. She blinked, twice, and then stretched her wings before stretching out, as though being curled up in the egg had been terribly uncomfortable for her.
The dragonet was a mint green in color, with darker edgings on her backridges, and like her brother before her, she almost seemed to possess a kind of babyfat; she was certainly not as slender and streamlined as the queen behind her. Eyes whirling, the little green moved forward, before her gaze finally settled on the person of her choosing. Wobbling forward (for there was no other way to describe how she walked), the young green moved right up to Aaria before spreading her wings at her side and crooning. Riamine, are you cold? Your Avaliath does not want you to be cold at all! The little green sounded distressed, her wings spreading out to flap and kick up dust beside her. Tell me what I can do to fix it!
And back at the clutch, the Mist Egg was slowly cracking...
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Symphony
Senior Weyrwoman
just leave me your stardust to remember you by.
Posts: 152
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Post by Symphony on Apr 22, 2008 4:49:40 GMT -5
Brown Varaneth Name:Varaneth Pronunciation: ( VAH ran ETH) Age: Hatchling Color: brown Egg: Dusty Egg Clutch: Smoke & Mirrors Lineage: gold Freseath & bronze Ruinith Looks to: Lienau - L'nau [/center] Description: This dragon is certainly not going to win any beauty pageants–but he certainly catches the eye! Hide of a distinctly “dung” color is blotchy and naturally rougher than many dragons’ hides. No matter how much this dragon is oiled, his hide will never gleam with health–the closest you can get is a dull matte, which looks far more like he’s been over-oiled an allowed to get dusty than actually being clean. Unfortunate blotches and markings make his appear in a constant state of flaking, though of course the illusion is lost when he is actually touched. Unless a schedule of cleaning is kept, it is next to impossible to tell if Varaneth is clean or dirty, and this dragon would rather scratch his hide bloody than impinge upon time that you would rather spend doing something else. A series of yellowish dots follow his brow-line on his face, like little bits of corn or perhaps drops of yellow paint. If Varaneth holds still enough, it’s quite possible that birds will drop down to grab the “food,” and be surprised with dragon instead! His form is of a piece with his coloration. Enormous hind legs simply dwarf his forelimbs, which are about as useful as little stick-legs. Walking is a hilarious propositions for this dragon, and he will constantly stumble on the ground, likely burying his nose into the dirt and skinning his chin. Quicker to build up callous than many dragons, Varaneth is likely to become rapidly immune to minor scrapes and bumps, though he has low pain tolerance. Injuries unlikely to lay another dragon low can seriously mess with Varaneth–unless you tell him to work through it, in which case Varaneth will fly until his hearts burst. Awkwardly oversize wings and a shorter tail than normal not only give him an amusing outline, but make any evasion in the air very difficult. Though he has great stamina, don’t look for this dragon to gain any modicum of agility in the air or on the ground–without much ability to steer, his strengths lie in endless endurance and a willingness to try, rather than any type of fancy-flying. A short neck set on powerful shoulders leads to a broad, squat face with a square jaw. Unlike the aquiline beauty of many dragons, Varaneth looks far more like a mastiff, with heavy eye-ridges and a wide muzzle. Powerful jaw muscles make chewing firestone no trial–this dragon can grind the stone to powder with little difficulty, revealing his truest strength. A flaming machine, Varaneth can devour firestone far faster than his siblings, and his flame is both wide and long, and plenty hot to sear Thread–or flesh, if an unfortunate flier gets in the way. Wind is no difficulty for him, and an innate knowledge of how flame will move makes him an incredibly useful member of the higher-altitude Wings, cutting a swath of ash across the masses of Thread. Personality: Almost a stereotypical brown in his personality, Varaneth is extremely hardworking. Willing to do just about anything for people–and without any recognition–Varaneth can be almost pathetically helpful, always wanting to make himself useful, especially when he figures out that he’s not an attractive dragon. No matter how impossible the task he’s set to, Varaneth won’t cease trying until he’s dead or literally cannot move any more. He takes even offhand orders as law, and will set out to do whatever it is he’s been told to. Varaneth honestly likes to obey, and if you’re not careful, it will be easy for him to get used and bullied–even by you! Nothing is impossible in this dragon’s mind, and given how much he wants to do what people (and dragons) tell him, it’s amazing what he can do once he sets his mind to it. Absolutely adoring of His, Varaneth will always be a warm and comfortable presence. Perfectly comfortable to reside in the thoughts of his rider, sometimes it’s difficult to tell where his thoughts begin and yours leave off. Utterly responsive to the desires of his rider, it can be incredibly difficult to find out what this dragon truly wishes to do or what he likes, for Varaneth is more than willing to change himself for the pleasures of others. In fact, it’s quite likely that Varaneth will become nothing else than a willing mount and servant unless encouraged to seek his own desires. The potential for merely using this dragon is great, and care must be taken to ensure that the surprisingly shy dragon beneath the servile nature isn’t buried forever. Learning to say “no” will be possibly the biggest achievement of this dragon’s life. Varaneth has a strong sense of duty–of justice, fairness, and all that goes along with those ideals. However, he won’t speak up against other dragons unless encouraged to do so, for he has a natural respect for bronzes. Unless supported, Varaneth will utterly deflate when confronted by a bronze, doing his best to serve and do what he sees as his duty as a brown dragon. Certainly identifying strongly with his color-role, Varaneth can seem to be utterly dry and without personality to those who don’t know him, merely an obedient force in the sky, but that view is utterly untrue. Varaneth is a clever and intelligent dragon, and truly caring. He enjoys spending time with blues and greens more than any of the other colors, for he feels that he owes obedience to bronzes and golds, and shares little more than work-camaraderie with other browns. Instead, those few who have the patience to befriend the gentle dragon within will usually be blues and greens, though friendship with other colors is not impossible–merely very, very difficult!
Green Avaliath Name: Avaliath Pronunciation: AH vah LEE ahth Age: Hatchling Color: Green Egg: Soot Egg Clutch: Smoke & Mirrors Lineage: Gold Freseath & Bronze Ruinith Looks to: Aaria[/center] Physical Description: Soft, round, and delectably plump in appearance, this little green is positively darling. While it's tempting to say she's a regular fatty, that would just be plain inaccurate (not to mention insensitive!). Her build is undeniably short and round but that doesn't mean a thing. Some might be surprised to find that beneath the softly rounded, smooth exterior, this little green is actually all muscle. It's a deceptive appearance, for her short neck, haunches, and tail all make her a sweet and harmless visual. Even her 'ridges are blunt and rounded as opposed to sharp like most dragons'. Her snout is also short but is possibly the only slender thing about her; however, it's oddly suitable. Her wings are comfortably large, though not so much so that she ends up tripping and stumbling over them every third step. Long as well as wide, they're a reassuring sight to those who feel any concern over whether or not she'll be able to lift herself and Hers from the ground when the time comes. The bones are thicker and stronger than those of most other dragons, the webbing between them a pale, translucent green that can, to some extent, actually be seen through under some circumstances. In all truthfulness, this dragonet is not as small as her short and plump build might make her seem; she is comfortably average for a green. Perhaps adding to her cuteness is the fact that she is brightly, undeniably pastel. Her basecoat is a combination of mint and pale grass green with a shine to it that's positively eye-catching. As if that weren't enough, there's the faintest hints of mottling on her back of a green that's half a shade darker. It moves like subtle ripples on her hide, pale shamrock against pastel mint and grass green. It seems to grow darkest by her 'ridges, becoming paler as it ripples out toward her belly and flanks. A truly unique green if ever there was one! Personality: Bubbly and outgoing, Avaliath won't hesitate to chat up that bronze who's sunbathing. A truly extroverted individual, this little green doesn't mind "making a pest of herself". She loves to gossip, and will do so with anyone who's willing to participate. Even at a young age, she flirts with the boys, showing herself off without a second thought. She knows that she's unique, and doesn't that mean that she's beautiful? Fun-loving and frisky, it's rather hard for her to take some things seriously. Sticks in the mud beware! Lovely Avaliath has a low level of tolerance for boredom, and will take herself elsewhere fast if her current company proves to be yawn-worthy. In this way, the green is quite self-reliant; she relies on no one person (or dragon) to keep her occupied. If Hers is busy, then there's no doubt that the little green will find something to do on her own, whether it be by herself or with another group of dragons. Perhaps this has something to do, one way or another, with her thought processes. Being the independent little dragon she is, she's quick to form her own ideas and opinions, and not afraid to voice them... even if they're wrong. One of her more exhausting traits is her stubbornness: once she's gotten something into her sweet little head, it's nearly impossible to get it back out. She has no problems admitting she's wrong... if you can prove beyond the shadow of a shadow of a doubt that she is in fact wrong. Despite her tendency to think and mull things over quite a bit, Avaliath is not a particularly intelligent green. That's not to say that she's lacking, however; no, she has more than her fair share of common sense and dragon logic. Self-assured, she is quick to shrug off teasing insults to herself, although one might want to be careful what they say about her rider. While she's not exactly fierce when crossed, she has an astonishing memory for wrongs that have been done, as well as an amazing aptitude for holding grudges.
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Minji
Archivist
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Post by Minji on Apr 22, 2008 16:13:54 GMT -5
For a young dragon that had babyfat, Minji was surprised by its ability to walk about the sands in a graeful movement while, if sh knew any better, the rest would lack in taking but even one graceful step like this blue showed. Though none of that would really matter, Minji whistled and clapped for the blue's Impression to one of the males. Her attention was unaware of a brown that had hatched and chirped, his wings draped about him, but the moment she turned her attention back to the eggs was when she noticed it and 'awww'ed.
Even though the brown lacked in another variation of its color, Minji still adored it. All the dragons were lovely in their own way, and if anyone wanted to say anything nasty about the dragons, fine, but they would have to deal with karma, or the dragon itself and its rider. Whichever way it rolled, it would be of no concern for the candidate.
Fidgetting slightly from the now burning heat of the sands, Minji started to wish that she would have been out in the rain just a while longer. All thoughts dissipated, however, when Minji witnessed the Impression of the brown, and the hatching of a pastel green. With the brown finding His, Minji did the same as she had done with the first pair, clapping with the same intensity as of those from the crowd in the stands. She enjoyed hatchings, and even though this was her second one if all honesty, her first one being something as a gift from her maser, and this one being her second one, she was quite still excited about it all. It was something Minji enjoyed of her two times at a hatching, as she sometimes imaged quite the drama scene on the sands, or possibly in the stands. However it were to happen, Minji only hoped that no one would be seriously hurt in it.
If nothing else, when the green hatched, it seemed as if it knew who it wanted. Minji watched as it made its direction toward the females, and truth be told, Minji was hoping that it would be her that the dragon was approaching. When the green did not stop before her, Minji felt somewhat bad for herself for thinking she would be off this soon and turned to see to whom the pastel green had chosen.
When the lucky female was identified, Minji smiled and clapped, whistling would probably not be the best idea with a dragonlings this close. It was that and Minji did not want to deafen the poor thing and chance getting mauled. But as Minji took a step back to allow the pair to gain easy access out from the group of females, she managed to mutter a congradulations to Aaria.
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Post by tarra on Apr 22, 2008 22:51:32 GMT -5
Tsarkor withdrew into the band of candidates as the Hatching continued, wide hazy-brown eyes taking in the green who so quicky chose her lifemate, admiring the pastel shades of her hide and the healthy exuberance brought on by her rounded appearance. A healthy dragonet, that one, not at all lacking in nourishment.
The two Impressions and the presence of more cracking eggs, however, were beginning to drive home another possibility: failure. For the first time since entering Santum's Weyr, the boy considered how it might be if he did not Impress. Strange, perhaps, that it hadn't occured before, but then Tsarkor had had much to think about, settling into a new life within Weyr rules and Weyr boundaries. He watched Aaria and Lienau leaving, and one finger twitched, thoughtfully. If he did not Impress he would have no reason to stay on. If he did not Impress he might have to go home to his family. To Tarkir.
Being mauled was suddenly less intimidating. Hardly frightening for that matter. The red-brown of his hair caught in the wain light of the cave as he turned, gazing almost desparate across the Sands to the cracking eggs. He had to Impress, he just had to. His natural common sense grasped for ground, caught hold of his mounting panic, brought him up short with a thought like a slap.
What if his lifemate were not within this Clutch? What then? Would he force himself upon another dragonet just to fulfill his selfish whims and fears? His mind cringed at the thought. A beastcrafter had to be cruel, sometimes, in order to be kind. But a man who gave no thought to his animals, who cared only how they might serve him...such a one was no better than an abuser of the living, using badly what had been given him.
The boy held himself still, sweat slowly dribbling down his neck into his robes, plastering his hair to the back of his neck. Teenager he was, but he would not be a spoilt child. Grimly he turned to face the lines of Eggs again, to face what may or may not come. He remembered the soft, star-lit nights spent out with the herdbeasts, waiting for a late calving or watching for a lamed animal. He could handle that, if it were to be his lot in life.
Just so long as he found a way to get around his father.
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Post by Missa on Apr 23, 2008 2:32:30 GMT -5
The brown Impressed easily, like his borther before him, claiming his bonded almost dissapointingly quickly. Aaria almost felt like things were moving much to quickly, she wanted to be able to examine the dragons, wanted to wonder who they'd choose. It didn't really matter in the end though, they'd choose as quickly as thet could.
Another egg was hatching, the Soot Egg, that had been one of the eggs Ria had been drawn to during the Touching.. Suddenly, she was insanely curious as to what the egg held and who it's bonded would be. A green tail, so it was a green. No surprise, if teh bubbly feelings from the egg were anything to go by. Holding her breath as the egg rolled over, Aaria couldn't help but worry. Was the dragon hurt? The others had shattered and ended up on their feet... No, she seemed fine. What an adorable dragon! She was certaintly pretty, all the dragons in the clutch had been lovely if not in colour than build.
Watching her stumble into the Mist Egg, Ria winced in sympathy for the both of them, more for the green, for connecting with a hard shell had to sting, at least a little bit. She moved forawrd, searching the candidates, before wobbling forward. Nearly stepping back as she stpped closer, immediately assuming she was in the dragon's way, Ria froze at the small voice, Riamine, are you cold? Your Avaliath does not want you to be cold at all! Blinking in pure shock at the bright dragon, Ria's mind took considerably longer than it should have to realise why she suddenly felt an overwhelming love towards Avaliath, why she felt complete as she stared at the green. Tell me what I can do to fix it! She spoke again and Ria moved forward, stroking teh green's eye ridges, cold? She'd honestly forgotten how chilly she was. "I'm alright, Avaliath. Really I am, I'm just wet." Stumbling on the words slightl;y as she stared back at her bonded, Avaliath crooning softly and folding her large wings back by her side. Are you sure? I would not want you to be cold. If you are sure though... Can we eat something. My tummy is making awful rumbling noises. Definately, come on love, we'll find something for you to chew on.
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Post by Neeuqtar on Apr 23, 2008 15:10:13 GMT -5
Tira sighed softly, a bit in annoyance, as Tiny decided that it was clearly time to burrow through her chest. The green's sleepy movements, really an attempt to get more comfortable, didn't hurt exactly, but were certainly annoying as anything. Attempting not to look ridiculous, Tira stuck a hand down her Candidate's robe, adjusting the obnoxious creature before innocently going back to her Standing.
Tiny chirped, and Tira gritted her teeth. She knew that flitters weren't allowed on the Hatching Sands (since the queens seemed to dislike their little cousins), but Tiny still had her wing splinted, and needed to be kept safe at all times. And the green had a knack for getting out of her cage when she didn't want to be in there--the last time, Tiny had nearly gotten devoured by Rage. The lizardhawk still watched the injured firelizard with greedy hunger every time she caught sight of Tiny. And Tiny didn't seem inclined to separate her normally-terrified little self from Tira, so... the girl had taken to carrying her around.
A blur of green movement from an egg caught Tira's attention, and her head whipped to that position, weaving back and forth to gain depth perception, unsettling red eyes a bit wild for a moment until the green Chose Hers. Oh. Not an important player after all... Tiramnet sighed, her Candidate gown itchy and steaming, her wet hair plastered to her scalp and sending drips of icy water down her back and making her shiver, even as the Sands burned her feet. This was certainly not comfortable... the sooner the Hatching was over, the better.
And if she met a dragon on the Sands... well, she would tackle that when--if--it came.
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Symphony
Senior Weyrwoman
just leave me your stardust to remember you by.
Posts: 152
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Post by Symphony on Apr 23, 2008 15:57:15 GMT -5
The Mist Egg wobbled. Twice. And then split down the side to reveal a glimmer of hide that was unidentifiable in color. It wobbled once more and then went still, as though the cracking was abruptly stopped, and another loud crack sounded from somewhere near it. The Vapor Egg had shattered, toppling over to reveal a near-black dragonet that was the average size of a brown. Only close inspection and cast of light from lightning flashing outside would be able to identify the brown of his hide. Unlike the dragonets who hatched before him, his build was much more standard for his colour, neither large nor small, but just right, as if proportions could be no more balanced than his. The near-black dragonet gave a quiet chirp as he turned to look at his shattered shell, his tail swishing around behind him as though he were contemplating the shell itself, and why it was there.
I don't understand why it fell that way, the little brown spoke - but his words were for Cador alone, though he did not approach him. He did not even move at first, instead reaching one claw out to swat at the shell. When it cracked under his claw, he backed away, looking up at Ariannalyth in what could only be described as embarrassment. Crooning to himself (which sounded decided squeaky, and no where near as dark as his hide), he backed away, moving in the direction of his chosen though not with any hint of grace in his form. In fact, he almost looked silly, the way he was back-tracking, not unlike a crab. His wings flapped awkwardly to keep himself balanced. C'dormine, will your Haronth be in trouble for the mess? I don't want to be in trou-- oooh no!
Whatever else he was going to say was cut off as two eggs hatched simultaneously -- the Ringed Egg and the Mist Egg. The ending result was quite messy: a young green dragon, large for her color but built with a predatory grace that should have been unnatural, hatched from the Mist Egg, while a much larger and decidedly more imposing bronze dragonet who literally seemed to encompass all things that bronzes were known for with just a glance at his metallic hide hatched from the Ringed Egg. The bronze stretched his wings wide before squawking in agitation at his sister. The green stood her ground, wings flaring, her anger becoming painfully obvious as her eyes whirled red... but unlike her clutchbrother, she made no effort to let the whole of the Hatching Sands know. Instead she watched him as he wriggled out of his shell and forward onto the Sands...
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Symphony
Senior Weyrwoman
just leave me your stardust to remember you by.
Posts: 152
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Post by Symphony on Apr 23, 2008 15:59:57 GMT -5
Brown Haronth
Name: Haronth Pronunciation: HAR ownth Age: Hatchling Color: Brown Egg: Vapor Egg Clutch: Smoke & Mirrors Lineage: Gold Freseath & Bronze Ruinith
Looks to: C'dor Appearance: At first, it seems as though some grave error has taken place within the shell from which this brown emerged. On first—and even second and perhaps third—glance, his hide appears to be a solid, unyielding black. So dark is this brown that it’s downright alarming to some people, but others will undoubtedly find it fascinating. As he grows older, Haronth will lighten somewhat, but the difference will be miniscule. It appears as if this one quirk of his appearance is the only remarkable thing about this dragonet’s hide, but the truth is that the stunning darkness distracts from the subtle nuances of color that further set him apart from other browns. Instead of being one solid shade, delicate wisps of lighter reddish-brown dance across his hide, more prominent on his belly and the insides of his legs than on his back. His ridges are a rich, chocolate brown, not so dark as his hide but several shades lighter. Aside from his astonishing color, Haronth is not so unusual. He is built on an average scale for a brown, slightly on the slender side. His wings are standard size, neither long nor wide, but just right. His tail seems as if it might be a bit on the long side, but it’s not readily noticeable. His eyes are of average size on a slightly rounded rather than oblong head, expressing his moods vividly through their colors. His legs are nicely proportioned to his size, and it’s a sure thing that this brown will have the best possible of both worlds in the air: enough strength to last, but without excessive muscle to cost him speed. Personality: Whether his unusual color plays into his personality at all is uncertain, but there is a certain air of shyness about this brown that is actually quite charming. He’s not a full-blown introvert by any means, but he’s very modest. It’s not hard to imagine him blushing when he’s taking compliments, and even those not bonded to him will be able to tell when he’s embarrassed or suffering from a fit of shyness. When he’s not being humble or shy, Haronth is often lost in thought, choosing to spend his time mulling over things that most dragons brush aside. When it comes to the people he is most comfortable with, this brown is a willing and very able conversationalist, and what he has to say is not just idle gossip. He has thoughts, theories about why things are the way they are and why people react the way they do to certain stimuli… among other things. Although he is undoubtedly humble, it doesn’t take long for one to realize that this dragon has an intelligence that rivals that of most bronzes. His shyness will often prevent him from speaking out with certain ideas and opinions, but he will always be more than happy to share them with someone willing to listen. Good natured and reliable, there doesn’t seem to be an ill-tempered or grumpy bone in this brown’s body. At the worst, he’s pensive to the point of near sullenness, but this is rare, occurring only when something drastic takes place. For the most part, Haronth is welcoming of new faces, both human and dragon, often choosing to get to know everyone out of sheer curiosity alone. Some might say that curiosity comes to no good end, but in this case, it’s vital, helping him to overcome his shyness and show everyone how truly special he is.
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Katy
Searched
Posts: 11
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Post by Katy on Apr 24, 2008 1:48:12 GMT -5
Cador shifted, drawing his sodden candidate's robes around him as he lifted one foot and then the other, shaking off the bits of uncomfortably warm sand that were clinging to his ankles. The rain had admittedly thrown him off. He hadn't expected the dreary downpour; it was only expected that hatchings be set against sunny skies and temperate climates. His training had conditioned him to almost believe everything in life should come straight out of a Harper's song. At any rate, the backdrop for such an auspicious occassion should, by right, be picturesque. Life so rarely matched the expectations anyone held for it.... He shook his head forcefully, mentally reprimanding himself for letting his mind wander in the midst of the sands. His degree of nonchalance surprised him. Wasn't it more appropriate to be anxious or enraptured? He glanced around at his fellow candidates, observing expressions that ranged from terror to unabashed joy. He could only imagine what his face looked like: placid, indifferent. This was an opportunity-- why was he content to let it pass? Inwardly, he knew the answer; he had always felt both bound to and destined for the Harper Hall. Sanctum had been a surprise. He couldn't even recall exactly how many dragonets had Impressed. There had been a blue, a few greens, a brown, perhaps. Still silently chiding himself, he brought the tentatively rocking eggs back to the forefront of his vision and focus. There was a surprisingly loud crack as the Vapor Egg gave way, producing a dragonet that Cador had to squint at to recognize as a brown. The creature eyed the shell, studying it single-mindedly. I don't understand why it fell that way...[/i] The Journeyman Harper staggered backwards unsteadily, certain that he wasn't supposed to be hearing the second stream of thought he was suddenly starkly aware was threading through his conciousness. Was his imagination really so active? Mildly perplexed, quietly analytical; the thoughts speeding along parallel to his were definitely not entirely his own. C'dormine, will you Haronth be in trouble for the mess? I don't want to be in trouble-- ooooh no![/i] The brown flapped his wings frantically, struggling to maintain his balance as he stumbled backwards. Haronth's head swiveled, allowing him to lock gazes with C'dor. The new weyrling drew in a breath, taken aback by the sudden, undeniable impact as the enormity of Impression hit. He rushed to meet the brown's wobbling backward progress, kneeling as the dragonet righted himself. No, no. You're not in any trouble. But walking is generally easier when done in a forward direction. The brown dipped his head; if dragons could blush, Haronth would've been pink. C'dor shook his head affectionately before placing his right hand on the dragonet. Come on; food's next.
Across the sands, Iolanthe raised her hand in acknowledgement, giving C'dor a tight lipped smile of congratulations as she applauded.
[ooc: I hope to edit/add to the Iolanthe bit of this post later tonight or tommorow. Haronth's going to be lots of fun to play-- thanks so much!]
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