Fort Weyr - Hatching Sands

The sands. The most prominant and possibly most important area for a weyr, this section of Fort is no exception to the rule. Completely enclosed from the outside elements by a high rounded ceiling, the golden white sand glitters under the streams of sunlight that manage to make their way in from the upper openings. Ledges abound in the upper areas of the dome, perfect for riders and their dragons to watch the action happening on the ground. At the back of the sands there appears to be a raised section of sand, built over generations by the golds who have laid clutches here, a couch of sorts for basking on while protecting their eggs. Slightly to one side of that, a small nook has been carved for the weyrwoman to take respite from the heat of the cavern.

What could be better after a day of chores and lectures on the upcoming excursions and wing shadowing than an egg touching! Overhwelmed yet? No? Good. M'icha is likely getting a huge kick out of putting the Candidates through their paces and with dinner just wrapping up he's figured now is as good a time as any to usher out a small group to be the first to meet 'n greet with Kouzevelth and Kainaesyth's eggs! "Remember the rules now. No horseplay, no fightin', no being loud and obnoxious. Enough eggs to go about for your group. Oh — and for Faranth's sake don't hog an egg! You're all old enough to know the 'sharing is caring' lesson… don't make me knock it into your heads." The Weyrlingmaster gruffly instructs and though he smiles it's very hard to determine if he's kidding or serious (he's both). Standing by the entrance, he'll lean heavily on his cane and then gesture with his free hand. "Go on then!" Don't be scared! The eggs are safely buried and plenty hard enough now. Kouzevelth is half-resting, half aware and the gold has always liked the Candidates meeting her eggs so they've nothing to fear of her or the sire either. Their riders are no doubt nearby too, even if not immediately seen but such a small group can be easily managed by the Weyrlingmaster alone.

Slowly, the first Candidate tentatively steps out onto the Sands, only to be surpassed by one of the bolder ones. Haughty are what others whisper about him too and it shows in the way he just struts his way right to an egg as though he's done this before (and maybe he has!).

The best place to be right after a heavy meal is on hot sands in sweltering heat. Everyone knows that! Can we go swimming tomorrow before the hour is up? With all the information newly minted swimming around in her head already Gabriela lingers in the back of the pack and eyeballs her surroundings. Watching the swagger candidate approach the first egg while others filter out more slowly. Flicking a glance at M'icha she edges carefully toward an egg well away from the Rider. If anyone is getting heads knocked it's sure NOT going to be her. Still unsure what the point of touching an inanimate egg is she never the less steps forward finally and traces a finger against a smooth shell.

< Gabriela touches egg 10 - Eggsplosive at Best Egg >

To what occassion finds Beyrl leaving footprints in the sand? An egg-touching one, or so they say. Dubious as to the nature of such a thing (and reflecting on what reaction the mother would have at the touching of said eggs), he meanders after the others, and listens to M'icha lay down the rules, and a threat to follow. The others, bold or timid, get a feel for the eggs, but he observes each one carefully, wondering what their fates and stories will be. Yet none catch his eye, but one, for the nonce. He heads on over with curiosity set, and seeing the dragons pay no mind, reaches out and lightly touches the shell.

< Gabriela leaves egg 10 - Eggsplosive at Best Egg >

The experience of caressing the egg is not one Gabriela had been at all prepared for. After all you can talk until you are blue in the face about certain things and never fully prepare the listener. "Uhhh what?" Blinking her eyes rapidly does nothing to ease the onslaught of light and sound that assaults the senses and kabooms in the ears like a fireworks show up close and personal. As the experience flickers to a close the feeling of shyness and apology go a long way toward Gabby holding no hard feelings about the head splitting she'd just received. After all she'd intruded on that one's space without knocking on the door so to speak. As the curious entity slips away from her mind, Gabby finds herself staring once again at the back cavern of the Hatching Sands. With a hesitant pull she takes back her hand and steps back out of the way of another to experience the egg themselves. Stumbling slightly she moves off and finds herself peering at another egg. To touch or not to touch? Glancing back and forth she realizes she has to touch another or be goaded into it. "Oh boy," she breathes and reaches out to lay a gentle palm against the smooth warm surface.

< Beyrl touches egg 8 - Flock of Fate Egg >

< Gabriela touches egg 9 - Not Your Typical Scapegoat Egg >

M'icha will wait until the last Candidate heads out, likely shoo'ing the more reluctant ones. "She won't bite ya and neither will the eggs!" Much. He's as oblivious as they are as to what lurks under those shells but the Weyrlingmaster will hang back and watch. He trusts that none of them will be foolish — all except that haughty acting boy who is still strutting about like he's Blooded. So far though, all is calm and so he lurks and tries not to laugh as the first Candidates get their shocks.

Beyrl closes eyes tight against a cacophony of sound for a brief moment, then slowly opens his eyes to a rather unique experience. He slowly pulls his hand back, gaze upon the egg. He went looking for fate, yet this presents a life somewhat foreign. Rubbing two fingers lightly together on the hand that touched, he glances to the other eggs. The path must be right, true to his steps, or another shall he find. He shifts over, making way for another Candidate, and gingerly touches another egg.

< Beyrl leaves egg 8 - Flock of Fate Egg >

< Beyrl touches egg 4 - Shattered Shards Egg >

Here there are no sudden explosions or sense of intrusion. Though Gabriela is in awe never the less. Has she looked at her life's direction lately? Or ever for that matter? The feelings of being unsure leave her unsure about herself in the moment. The presence leaves her curious about the views and sense of question put forth to her. Enough so that even as the feelings begin to fade away, Gabby is left standing there pondering her future. Staring off into the distance with no apparent need to move as she considers that she does indeed have ideas of what might be someday.

A visceral experience, one gentle and deep, hits upon Beyrl at this time. A comforting thing, it relaxes him. A familiar thing, it piques his interest. Yet a thing with faux concern, it seems out of place. He shakes what he may off his mind, his head following literal the mental action. He brushes a finger once again across the egg, with a slight more confidence then last time.

Other Candidates seem to be having equal experiences. Some react with shock, others curiosity and some just outright confusion. A few gather to whisper in hushed voices about their eggs before swapping, while 'I think I own the place' Candidate over there seems to lurk around the same three eggs. M'icha just lurks in general, always present and yet far enough back that he isn't breathing down their necks. This is their moment, after all!

Lost in thought as she is Gabriela nearly fails to notice as the presence returns to prod at her. The moment she senses the questioning she responds with thoughts of the long dusty roads she once called home. A creak of wagon and flap of cloth in the brisk wind. A life she can never return to as still fresh fears linger in her heart. No she is left to make her home within stone walls now. And here she is content and safe. Or is she safe? The feeling of encouragement fills her with hope for the future. She will be the best Weyr worker she can be! Or perhaps her future hold other things in store for her. No matter the path set her she can walk it and win. At least that is the feeling she is left with as she pulls her hand from the eggs surface. With a smile she reaches out to oh so gently pat the shell. Giving thanks for the boost instead of callously moving on.

< Gabriela leaves egg 9 - Not Your Typical Scapegoat Egg >

Gabriela had intended the gentle touch to be brief in thanks. But in those brief seconds she finds herself once more interacting with the entity beneath the surface. Feeling herself tick though her wants and desires almost in reaction to an unspoken question. Wealth? Why would she want it? What would she do with it if she had it? It is not something that drives her really. Past a need to be comfortable. Luck and fortune she could do a turn with that. As it is in limited supply in her life thus far. Goals? Well those will have to be addressed. Something to strive for perhaps. The feeling of being outside a crowd looking in swells within her and she finds it familiar and comforting. The idea that she will discover herself soon is alluring. Drawing her to never desire to leave. Alas that is not to be for she feels almost shoved from behind. The mental nudge enough to make her look behind her to be certain it isn't a fellow Candidate who has become impatient. But no, there is no one there. With a curious expression she moves away and steps around other eager folk until she finds an egg that is unoccupied.

< Gabriela touches egg 7 - Upside Down Egg >

The experience of interacting with the eggs and the occupants within is becoming vaguely familiar to Gabriela. Enough so that she approaches the new egg with a little confidence left over from the last. All in all this isn't so bad really. With a quirk of a smile she lays her hand upon the egg in a funny position. Curious what awaits. And that curiosity is answered in spades. "Oh my!" What in goodness name is going on with this egg? The feelings are odd and yet familiar. Odd because well let's face it whoever would expect to get the tingles here?! The brilliant display of color is distraction enough that she manages not to embarrass herself completely. Though she does give off a questioning mindset. Aren't you a little young for rock and roll?

Gabriela is rocked by the flood of emotion that side swipes her out of nowhere. Slowly she sinks to her knees fearful if she does not that she will pitch forward and hurt the egg itself. Down upon the sand she goes. Curling in on herself as she is overwhelmed with feeling. Unable to pull away she winds up trembling upon the sand. Curled on her side with her legs half crossed to keep from wetting herself even as her eyes leak tears she is unable to control.

M'icha keeps a sharp eye on the group and sharpest yet when the haughty Candidate starts to edge more towards 'bully'. "Ingan…" he warns and just that is enough to have the young man muttering something of an apology (totally not an honest one) as he skulks off and starts to circle a new cluster of eggs and "pouncing" on the next available the moment to current occupant leaves.

Lying on her side Gabriela is scant able to get enough air to keep her lungs from bursting. The intensity is immense yet pleasant. At least she had thought. The moment it takes a turn for the worse she gasps as the scars across her middle begin to burn in answer to the unerring pain that rips through her body. Curling in on herself she begins to sob uncontrollably. Giving vent to the pain in a way she has rarely allowed herself before. It seems she cannot stop herself despite how she tries. By the time she has the presence of mind to pull her hand from the evil eggs shell she has the feeling that she has wet herself. Rolling free across the sand she finally comes to halt and pulls her legs to her chest. Covered in sand Gabby is left afraid before her fellows and betters.

< Gabriela leaves egg 7 - Upside Down Egg >

Candidate down? You bet M'icha is going to be limping his way towards Gabriela. "You alright? If you need a break…" There's no shame in it. He'll give her the option but silently hang back so as not to pressure her into her decision. As for her peers, they're too caught up in their own experiences to realize what's happened to Gabriela. All except Ingan. He saw ALL and he's so full of himself that he MUST know what that egg does because he's definitely stronger than that wuss of a girl! Pfft. Cowering before an egg. He'll show her!

If Gabriela could catch her breath she'd have words for the puffed up peacock Ingan and that /look/ the boy gives her. Thankfully for all present she is too busy feeling the lingering pain subside. Air in..air out. Focus past the pain. "I'm fine," she tells M'icha through gritted teeth. From all appearances she is anything BUT fine. However she will not admit defeat. Rolling into a sitting position she shakes sand from her hair. Glancing over her shoulder at the egg that had done her harm. Though no physical harm has been done as she takes stock of herself. "I think that's about enough for now though." There is no way after that she has any intention of touching another egg. What if the rest are like that? Like molasses warming she slowly uncurls herself from the sand and rises to her feet. Beyond grateful that she is dry and the feeling of wetting herself was just that a feeling. It is bad enough to be brought low as it is.

M'icha shows a rare gesture and offers his hand to Gabriela though she seems quite capable of getting to her feet herself. "Sometimes the eggs can be a bit overbearing. It's a shock." No, really? You'd think the Weyrlingmaster would've warned them! Of course, the bluerider probably kept it quiet or else NO ONE would want to touch the eggs! "They're not all the same… At least none of the eggs ever clutched here have been so similar as to be considered the same. If you're done though, you can go on back to the barracks and wash up." Y'know. Because of the sand? No worries about Ingan either. Karma will bite him in the ass and his reaction to the Upside Down Egg will be loud and vocal and earn him an immediate boot off the Sands before he ruins things for everyone.

In the process of getting up Gabriela does slip her hand into M'icha's. Though she puts no weight really behind the gesture as she gets her bearings once on her feet. Still the gesture is appreciated and she doesn't want to appear rude. "The first were alright," she glances at the eggs and then up at M'icha. How easy it is to forget she is older than height and outward appearance show. Hints of a lengthy past turn murky what would be vibrant eyes. "The last was just well," she grimaces as Ingan begins his journey. Looks like nobody gets a good vibe from that particular orb of doom. "Yeah um, I would like to clean up and get my head on straight." Something she doubts the fool Ingan will ever do in life. Where did that guy come from anyway? "If we do this again maybe I'll have better luck." Silently she wonders why there aren't painted signs around that egg. Warning pain and possible humiliation here. "Thanks for this though," she manages a small smile.

M'icha would have had to step away from Gabriela briefly to deal with Ingan but on his return he's dusting his hands. One troublemaker dealt with! Why can't they follow the rules? They're so simple! "You're welcome, Gabriela." he mutters gruffly and then properly dismisses her. "Don't let it get you spooked on coming back another time though. You'll find ones you prefer." Only question is is if they'll prefer her! Figuring she can find her way out, the Weyrlingmaster turns back to making sure the remaining Candidates aren't up to anything mischievous.

Beyrl watches the story pass, for this egg he now fingers. It's a story freshly woven, and yet as old as his memories. He seems not concerned, but rather focused, as it reading an deep and powerful tale he wishes to be part of it. He defines his life by story, and now one is being told. His lips can be said to say 'It is not enough', and he touches the egg yet again.

Beyrl closes his eyes, wincing at a vision cold and dark, alone against the sands of time, footprints within that stop and never carry on. Eyes pull open and stare at the egg, breathing deepened. "Stories woven by morning sun and children's laughter are lovely and well, yet stories born from pain and strife, from mistake and maladies upon life define our core! I define my own path, little egg. A million paths lay bare, crossing others everywhere. You've shown me mine. What is yours?" he asks, as he attempts to touch the egg again.

Beyrl 's expression droops. It appears he has yet to discover. Stories are written for two. Walks of Fate are made for both. This one saw but a single path, and not a joining within. He looks tentatively toward the other eggs. That one, the one which caused such commotion as to be discarded by those wishing to touch. He's never feared a story, and now hungers for something more. A look determined, like an orator reading a speach in front of thousands, etches across this one's face, and he reaches out to test it. Weave what story you will, be it of silky threads or glass shards. He wishes to test those waters.

< Beyrl leaves egg 4 - Shattered Shards Egg >

< Beyrl touches egg 7 - Upside Down Egg >

His eyes fly open upon the touching, and a smile grows across his face. A brilliance of feeling surrounds him, a flicker of fire that promises to become a flame, a fire, an inferno. "What story do you have, that you shall give? What fate's path shall you run, and new path will you trod?" he whispers, and touches the egg again with a renewed vigor for the anwers he seeks. For there are no other eggs, no other people, no sands, no dragons. Just this one, with its bright and brillant story, about to set his soul on fire, and he jumps in to tangle with every weave this one has to offer.

On fire does his soul catch, and Beyrl embraces it. What promise this little egg has, to rise above life and bring with it a story without bounds. Though like a fire burning away at its own fuel, this one does the same. Beyrl finds himself, one hand upon the hot sands, panting as if exposed to all the pleasures of the world, with face twisted as if tired of it. "What is the joy of life without the strife of that which balances it?" he whispers at the egg. "The silver cloud without the rain?" He shifts uncomfertably at a sensation. "The beauty of the rose without the thorn?" He slides his tongue around his mouth as if a taste forbidden he was trying to rid. "Is your tapestry of woven stories filled with wonders and wishes, or with dreary and decaying days?" he mutters, pulling up all the stories he's ever learned (though smaller in number for one still in youth) as support against the growing grey. "Promise you have, for either. I wish to know." he almost hisses around the pounding flood of sensation from the egg, and presses a finger down against it once more to turn the pages of the book its writing upon his mind, and read the last page, the road where it leads.

Beyrl 's reaction is swift and crippling, as he grasps the ground in pain and hisses the sensation through clenched teeth, sweat beading up against his forehead. Upon the ground he finds himself, trembling away the last vestiges of overbearing sensation. "So.." his voice creeks like an old wooden barn. "you bring both.." A deep breath interrupts, "in equal measure. A.. story worth telling.." his voice now almost a whisper. "for someone not fearing that path." And he wonders if he's strong enough to do so.

And amongst the eggs paces M'icha, keeping a watchful eye on the candidates. And perhaps that particular egg because there's just something…apparently…painfully? gripping about it. Far be it for him to snicker, but every candidate who has touched it has landed on the sands, some of them behaving… oddly. His face is bland, without judging as he nears Beyrl to offer him a hand up. "It's quite something sometimes," he comforts in his rusty way. "You'll get used to them. Or you won't." Simple. He'll give poor Beyrl a rough pat on the back, then perhaps another steadying hand so the lad doesn't sprawl in the sand again.

Beyrl accepts the offered hand, and stumbles up with a bit of the shakes. He almost coughs at the rough back pat. "It offers wonderment and hardship in equal measure." he tells M'icha, looking back at the egg. He gives a shakey sigh as he glances at his pants, the last touch of embarrasement as a wet spot upon it. He stumbles off to the barracks to rest up from the experience. And change.

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