Who Am'ry, Doktah, Jeltje, M'icha, Metan, Rulayn
(the roles of the eggs played by Thys, Th'ero and Inri)
What Candidates get to touch eggs!
When Spring-Summer, Turn 2711
Where Hatching Sands, Fort Weyr

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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.

It's early afternoon in Fort Weyr, and a handful of candidates are in for a treat! M'icha and Am'ry have rounded up a small group to march them out onto the Hatching Sands, where Kayeth is curled protectively close to her eggs, and Velokraeth, ever-watching, is peering down from the upper ledges. Nyalle is there, sitting at a desk on a raised plinth where she's working away, raising her head to nod and give the Weyrlingmasters permission to bring their crew on board. "Remember what you've already been told," Am'ry says as the candidates file past him, following M'icha towards the eggs. "Slowly. No running. No screaming, yelling. If Kayeth is upset or we tell you to leave, you leave. Quickly. Queens on the Sands get hungry, you know…" M'icha might give him a look for that, but the bluerider shoots him a jaunty salute and a cheeky wink. "Go ahead," M'icha takes control, standing closest to the eggs while Am'ry follows the last candidate. "Touch them gently, one to an egg please."

It's a while different experience, being on the Sands when there's actually a Queen sitting there watching over her brood. Rulayn, wringing her hands together nervously, shuffles in behind M'icha and follows his lead, taking a moment to bow her head to Kayeth in greeting before making any further movements. Her eyes scan over the mounds in the sand, though, and her lips twist in an uncertain manner. Where to begin?

M'icha DOES give a pointed, glowering look to Am'ry and mutters something under his breath. It's probably for the best that the AWLM is taking charge. The bluerider's leg is paining him today, to judge by the limp and the use of his cane and his mood swings between tolerable and sour. Only fifty five, life hasn't exactly been kind to him but he's damn good at his job … though for today he's content to just lurk on the sidelines and let his younger assistants have all the "fun".

Doktah has done this before, but somehow it's still an intimidating experience. Might have something to do with that terrifyingly giant and tempermental gold dragon on the sands. Still, nothing to do but go forward. At least she knows the routine by now: move slow, line up, bow deep to the gold and wait for permission before touching anything. Then comes the tricky part: which one to touch? She looks to Rulayn and shrugs before picking one at random to try out. She approaches slowly and carefully, gently placing her hand on one of the eggs.

Metan lifts his brows at Am'ry at the mention of the gold getting hungry enough to eat them. He glances towards the large dragon and then looks back to his fellow candidates to gauge their reactions. He doesn't seem worried about such things. His arms fold in front of him when they're told to 'go ahead' and he doesn't seem to want to be the first one to leap forward and touch one of the eggs. Once he watches Doktah touch an egg, he eases himself forward and towards the Amok! Amok Amok Amok Egg. He carefully reaches out a hand and lets it rest on the edge of the egg.

Some might look excited by the prospect of setting foot on the Sands, but Jeltje has seemed rather grim since the suggestion was made and the plan enacted. She certainly isn't going to be someone who makes a great deal of noise, for she's said exactly nothing in the past few minutes, providing nods or the shake of her head in answer to any questions or orders directed her way. Focused - and not - she slowly makes her way forth with the others, set on what they're meant to do and little else, her path a direct one to… Does she even choose an egg, or is it the first she finds herself drawn to, to do as she must? Shaking hands gently set themselves down on the shell of The Commemoration of Egg, her gaze directed down, as if to block out the world.

Firelight Egg to Doktah> « Guide in the Darkness Dark, dark, dark - so dark! Are you actually feeling the egg beneath your palm, or did you fall asleep? There's a gentle stirring, a flicker of light, the whirr-buzzclick of something that could be cogs, could be more sophisticated machinery… is that the sound of something you were fixing recently? The light grows like a candle flame, glowing orange-bright and forming shapes, faces, even - eerie but warm, flickering and flitting back and forth, beckoning you in further. Don't you want to know how this all works? Stay a little longer and you might find out. »

Rulayn is happy to wait for everyone else to go first. If they don't immediately have their brains fried by whatever's inside the eggs, then she's sold as well. She inches across the sands, looking over each egg in turn and taking note of whom takes their turn with which. Eventually she approached the Favored Familiar egg and, after giving the Queen and the egg itself a wary look, she extends her hand and pauses to give the other Candidates another final look. Noone dead yet? Good! She lightly places her palm against the egg, looking back down at the surface her fingers are now resting upon.

Amok! Amok Amok Amok Egg to Metan> « I Put a Spell on You has been sleeping. So very, very, very long. And then you came along, and lit the flame of its existence with the touch of your palm… you must be a virgin. Right? Only a vir— oh wait. There's an overly-curious little mind poking around in your mind, scritchy-scratchy like dulled claws and as eager as a kid in a candy shop. Oh! Oh, there was that one time when you… no. No. You lied about that, didn't you? You told your friends you did it but you liiiiiied . Liar, liar, pants on fire! That scritchy-scratchy feeling is soothed over with a little sweetness, a beckoning finger inviting you into the gingerbread house where only the purest of the pure can ignite the black flame candle… »

The Commemoration of Egg to Jeltje> « A Light in the Darkness eases into your mind with a sort of sombre effortlessness and completely unlike it's brighter outside. Here there is only peace and calm, a dark space with only a lone flickering flame. It reaches for you, seeking out your inner most thoughts and attempting to draw them forwards. For now it centres on the indecision lurking there and memories of the past. It knows of adventure and craves it but mutedly. It does not seek to stir the waters but increasingly it is fascinated by your conflict, the flickering of the candlelight growing closer as it attempts to delve further and, unintentionally, dig into past wounds likely too fresh to touch. It's done out of innocence, not meant to be cruel but it cannot be helped. »

Doktah sighs with relief, looking pleased that her first choice wasn't one of the terrifying ones. In fact, it seems rather pleasant. Intriguing. So she doesn't run off from the Firelight Egg, at least not yet. She gently adds her second hand to the shell, waiting to see where this goes.

Favored Familiar Egg to Rulayn> « Nine Times Lucky is black, but not the scary sort of darkness - more like the comforting warm fuzz of a feline's inky fur. Allow yourself to sink into the softness and you'll find that it's not actually all that bad. A flicker of green blinks like eyes from the blackness, the tickle of whiskers against your thoughts might make you shiver as you're being examined from within. If curiosity killed the cat then this little egg might be in trouble, because it digs through your thoughts to find out who you are … and it latches onto one thing in particular. One flashing image crops up, recognisable from only moments ago - dark hair, blue eyes, muscles… is that supposed to be a certain assistant weyrlingmaster? There's a fleeting ripple that could be a laugh, which fades back into the blackness. »

Metan doesn't recoil on purpose but that there's something about that red and black egg that has him staring at it, his hand clutched against his chest. Did that eye image on the side move? He gives a glance around, trying to gauge other candidate's reactions. He'll brave another touch of the Amok! egg, his hands moving out together to gently touch the apex of the egg.

Firelight Egg to Doktah> « Guide in the Darkness seems so pleased that you stayed. The orange flickering lights shift and shimmer into something that could be described as a smile - is it somewhat familiar in shape? Could it belong to one of the other candidates, plucked from a memory? There's a flush of warmth that suddenly engulf you, not unlike the feeling you - specifically you - get when you see someone you're crushing on. A flicker of white-blonde swirls around you, giving a gentle yet constricting squeeze, before melting into firelight and flames that lap hot against your skin. Is this the feeling you get when a gold rises? The flames simmer for a moment, then flare up… only to die down, leaving you in blackness again. Dark, dark, dark… and with the click-buzzwhirrrrr of machinery, ticking away in the back of your mind. »

Jeltje flinches. That in itself is embarrassing enough that she colours, her focus then on fighting that blush back down, and so she doesn't realise how tightly she clasps both of her hands before her until she's been stood like that for nearly a whole minute, frozen. When she finally manages to convince herself to move again, it's awkwardly, fingers uncurling one by one until she can press them carefully, yet surely back down on The Commemoration of Egg in her own little act of personal defiance. She will not be driven off. Not yet, anyway.

Rulayn draws back from the egg suddenly, her face flushed and not from the heat either. Her cheeks are bright pink and she looks around, flustered and seeming to expect someone to be looking her way. When she realises that her concerns and fears seem to be misguided, she looks back at the egg suspiciously. Her hands drop back to her sides and she slowly takes a step back, keeping that egg in her sights at all times. She looks around a second time, then heads across to the Wrappers EVERYWHERE Egg. She repeats the motions of extending her hands and lightly touching the surface of the shell, hoping for a slightly sweeter experience this time.

Doktah lingers a little longer at the Firelight Egg, trying to focus on the feedback she receives. One thing or another seems to unsettle her a bit, a sudden red flush appearing on her face. She shakes her head. "No, no. That never ends well." Is she talking to herself, or to the egg? Either way, she pulls her hand back. Lots to ponder. But that can wait. Now she has to pick another one. The Favored Familiar Egg looks unoccupied. Why not try that? Over she goes, touching carefully.

Amok! Amok Amok Amok Egg to Metan> « I Put a Spell on You cackles. Oh good, you came back for more! Stu— gooood. A scritchy-scratchy finger reaches out to stroke down your cheek, its nail digging into your skin… it's all in your head though, right? Scritchy-scratchy, scritchy-scratchy… it goes from your cheek to your mind, rifling through thoughts as if it owns them. Mine. Boring - that one is tossed aside. Dull - also discarded with a harumph of disappointment. Then it seizes onto one, clutching claws into it in such a way that might even make you think you're hurting. Did you steal something, Metan? Did you take something that wasn't yours? DID YOU TAKE MY BOOK? »

Metan's hands fly off the egg and he takes two big steps back. He looks at his hands to see if they've somehow been branded and then towards the egg he was touching. "Can't be real," he murmurs to himself, looking towards Jeltje and Doktah then to the egg. Rulayn gets a brief glance as well. "They don't know," he continues to himself. That egg must be a fluke. Has to be. So he'll move to touch another one. It'll be different, for sure. He reaches for AGHGETITOFF Egg and brushes a fingertip along it. So far so good… he places his full palm on it.

Wrappers EVERYWHERE Egg to Rulayn> « Noise Covered in Sugar SQUEES! Ohohohoh you touched me! You touched me! Hihihihihihihi! Sugar-sweet and buzzing and bouncing and full of GIDDY JOY OMG, there's a bombardment of glee on your senses as this little egg rustles through its wrappers to clash happily with your thoughts. It doesn't probe, it doesn't examine, it doesn't do anything other than bouncebounceBOUNCEbounce excitedly on the doorstep of your mind. HI! »

Favored Familiar Egg to Doktah> « Nine Times Lucky curls around you. Soft, strokable darkness, tickling fur, the warmth of a living body and the beating of a throbbing heart. It reaches out to soothe you, to smoothe ruffled feathers, to assure you that everything is fine. The whisker-brush feeling creeps deep into your thoughts, exploring your psyche, dragging up things you'd perhaps rather leave buried. Social interactions are flaunted, the ones where you've ended up wanting to curl back into yourself with embarrassment. Did you get it wrong? This egg doesn't care. It curls up in your mental lap, purring happily to scare away those bad thoughts. You're perfect, just the way you are. »

The Commemoration of Egg to Jeltje> « A Light in the Darkness glides back into your thoughts much like it had before and gently welcoming. Back into the darkness and peace are you pulled, only this time the candle and its flickering light are not alone. It begins to pull from your memories again, delving into your past and pulling up bits of this and that to haphazardly piece together into a jumbled, fractured canvas. It's laying you bare, piece by piece and not so much maliciously but by a near child-like curiosity. It craves escape and will use you, for now, as a glimpse to the outside so far denied it. That anger though, buried somewhere inside you? That it seems to grip like a vice, tugging at it. What is this? »

AGHGETITOFF Egg to Metan> « Creepy Crawling Curse clings - it clings so tightly that you might even, for a moment there, wonder if it's going to squeeeeeeze enough to cut off your air… but then it's rather like being wrapped in a cosy, silky cocoon. Now that you're settled snuggly into its satiny web, creepy-crawly feelers reach out silken threads to rifle through your mind. Devious. You. It. Both of you. A common trait. There's a flash of gold that could be approval, and the whiskery brush of a crawlie's leg across your skin. We could do great things together, you and I… forget those other dumbskulls. It's going to be you and me… the whispery web you're wrapped in clings tightly, and if you try to move - well, it moves with you. Clingy. Sticky. Stuck. You can't shake it off that easily… »

Nope. Not that one. Again Rulayn yanks away from the egg and this time her face looks a little paler and she actually has to take a moment to rest her palm against her forehead to try and stop her mind from spinning. A few experimental deep breaths are taken and eventually the young woman stands upright again, feeling far more composed once -that- sensation had vanished. Third time's the charm, right? Maybe one more for luck. Hopefully. Rulayn bites her lip as she trudges away from the colourful egg and takes up a position next to the Firelight Egg. This one couldn't be too bad, right? She reaches out one more time and, with a deep breath, she places both hands against it.

Doktah once again turns a little red at some image or memory that the egg conjures up. What is with this clutch? Still, no need to run away straight off. This one isn't all that bad. She just takes a couple deep breaths and leans in a little closer, hand remaining on the shell. "Yeah, that sort of thing… happens a lot." She murmurs.

"No." What was that about not making noise? Jeltje's voice is not loud, but it is sharp, that single syllable almost not a word at all, but a vehement, angry sound of denial. Hands dart away again, knotting together of their own accord, feet peddling backwards until she can stop herself and her surroundings rush back in to lend her a better sense of awareness. Breathing heavily, her features twisted into something dark and savage, she looks up and blinks time and again, trying to let light spill in before she can move again. To anywhere, it seems. She finds the Last-Second Tiger Costume Egg before any other, fingertips barely grazing its shell.

Firelight Egg to Rulayn> « Guide in the Darkness sends flickers of orange curiosity through the pitch black. Tiny sparks dance about, darting like fireflies through the night, getting closer and closer to your thoughts. In they go, warm and happy, like fiery little faces grinning and laughing and enjoying all they find… until they find… what's this memory? A plate of food, piled high, higher than the sky! The flickers prod, interested in knowing more… wanting to know if you actually ate all of that. Did you? Did you manage it? The orange flickers grow as the question repeats, waiting eagerly, impatiently, for an answer. »

Metan frowns at the egg he's touching, unable or unwilling to move his hands as he leans forward to stare at it. Can he be listening more closely? He doesn't seem as concerned about what this egg- compared to that other one- or he's getting used to the idea of it. He removes his hands and looks to the Amok Egg again. Maybe he should touch it one more time…

Last-Second Tiger Costume Egg to Jeltje> « Aggravatingly Indecisive Adolescent Ingrate arrives in a flurry of chaos. Literal chaos. It's a whirlwind of flurried, aggravated colors and fragmented thoughts. This or that? Which to choose? Choose them all or choose one? IT DOESN'T KNOW! In that chaotic mess is just one underlying theme: indecisiveness. It oozes it, a fluttering of anxiety over choice and picking one path or decision over another. Do YOU know? It all but leaps upon your thoughts, tearing through them in increasing panic. No. No. No, no no.. NO! Nothing is right! Even you'd agree, wouldn't you? Oh wait. What's this? Finally it settles on something there in your mind. Your Craftwork, perhaps? But the damage is already done and within seconds it seems to waver. Dunno about that… »

Rulayn blinks in a moment of surprise. "I.. I did." She seems to mutter to noone in particular, crouching down just a little bit and letting her hands slide further around the shell of the Firelight Egg. This one, it seemed, had managed to draw her attention and interest. Again she waits for any further reaction from the egg, staring at its bright patterns expectantly.

Amok! Amok Amok Amok Egg to Metan> « I Put a Spell on You is THRILLED. You came BACK again, didn't you! It suspected you might. Did you miss it? Did you want to share some of your ill-gotten gains? Did you think it didn't know about that, silly boy, don't worry about it, no one is telling, but. You could always share. That thing you swiped from that guy in the lower caverns. That brilliant idea you've got kicking around. The blood in your veins and the empty spaces in your mind, in order to bond with it and provide eternal life … maybe it's getting just a little bit smothering in here? Does it feel like your feet are on fire, Metan? Sorry. »

Favored Familiar Egg to Doktah> « Nine Times Lucky is like a cat, padding in on silent paws and curling up happily in the lap of your mind. Its purr reverberates throughout your thoughts, tickling your very soul, right into the core of your being. It's comforting, dark, warm, familiar… and it knows exactly how to soothe you. Warm paws knead at you, bringing up happier images, your moments of success - conquering equations as a child, your understanding of technology… fixing a broken thing! Nothing makes sense to the egg, that's for sure, but it knows these things are important to you. »

"It is a good idea," Metan agrees towards that egg, eyes narrowing in thought as he keeps his hands there. He shifts his feet more than once, the warmth of the sands - or something else - causing him discomfort. There are other eggs around but this one? This one will hold his interest until they're asked to leave.

Doktah smiles, looking relieved at whatever mental turn the images from the egg takes. "Those were good times." She says with a little bit of a laugh. "… Thank you. You'll find things that are like that for you too, you know. Things you're interested in, and…" Doktah realizes, again, that she's talking to an egg. She can't help but feel a little silly.

Firelight Egg to Rulayn> « Guide in the Darkness gives you a twinge of stomachache, a little flicker of nausea. Is that how you felt after eating it all? The feelings must be plucked from your own mind, because how can a dragon still in its shell know anything of the sort? Its darkness envelopes you, wrapping you in a satiny cloak and drawing you in closer, to where you can see the flickering source of its firefly lights - the candle at its heart. It forgives you for your gluttony, but it's already seeking its next thought to cling to - a secret stash. Under your cot. What are you keeping there? What is it? Why are you hiding things? »

Perhaps not enough light has managed to spill back into Jeltje's vision or mind, for her rejection of whatever she feels from the Last-Second Tiger Costume Egg is immediate and bordering on unkind, her lips twisting in an aggravated snarl as she lets the brush of her fingertips complete its journey and dance away again, safely separating Candidate and egg. Heels digging a little more into the sand beneath her feet, she glances about, dark eyes narrowed, and this time actually seems to consider her next move, even if it leaves her without an egg before her.

And that's all -you're- going to get! Something or other forces Rulayn back from the egg with a rapid shake of her head. "N-Not there." She mutters with a deep-seated frown, looking across the other eggs. This certainly was an unsettling experience, to say the least. The young woman steps back and pauses to rock upon her heels, looking across those she had come into contact with, and those she hadn't. And boy, does she frown. Dare she try another? Glancing at Jeltje, she gives the other woman an uncertain smile before looking back at the clutch. Decisions..

Favored Familiar Egg to Doktah> « Nine Times Lucky kneads gently, coaxing you to stay. Don't feel silly. What is silly? The emotion is tossed about, toyed with, flicked from paw to paw and swatted away. Gone. No more silly here. It flexes sinuously, black satin fur pressing against you. Sleepiness is prevalent now, tiredness like a shrinking flame in the darkness, and yet there's a fight growing against it - like a petulant child not ready to go to bed yet. »

Doktah yawns a little bit. Was that her, or the egg? Hard to tell. She seems to feel that this interaction is coming to an end. "Get some… sleep? Rest?" Do dragons inside eggs sleep? Something to look up later. For now, it was time to bid farewell and try out another egg. But which one? How about the Last-Second Tiger Costume Egg? That looked intriguing.

One more. Just one more, and that was -it-. If this one didn't drive her crazy, that is. Rulayn warily sidesteps around the eggs she'd already been in contact with, looking over the few that remains. Eventually she comes to stop at The Commemoration of Egg and this one earns itself the same wary expression as the others. With a deep breath and a silent hope that this one would be alright, Rulayn plants her hands slowly against the shell.

The look that Jeltje favours Rulayn with is not an answering smile, but it is one that lingers and conducts evident study before she turns her focus back to the eggs. For just a moment, she closes her eyes and bows her head, but something - maybe only pride - propels her forward and to the Favored Familiar Egg, where she lifts her left hand and presses her palm to the very top of it, her fingers kept from curving to the shell for one reason or another. It looks awkward, for sure. Maybe it feels awkward too.

Last-Second Tiger Costume Egg to Doktah> « Aggravatingly Indecisive Adolescent Ingrate is a flurry of fabrics - satins, tulles, velvets, blues, reds, blacks, yellows, greens, all thrown up in the air and strewn around your mind. It dives right into your thoughts, tossing them willy-nilly any which way. THERE ARE NO GOOD THOUGHTS WHY ARE THERE NO GOOD THOUGHTS MOOOOM I WANT THE OTHER ONES. Wait. WAIT. Waitwaitwait - what's this one? Heat! Oh, it knows heat alright, and it grasps onto your idea for bringing all the hot into Fort's cold winters. Cold? NO WAY. We don't want cold here. »

Amok! Amok Amok Amok Egg to Metan> « I Put a Spell on You should really not be keeping you, Metan, there are other eggs out there and all but … well. Our connection is SPECIAL, even if you are a dirty rotten book thief. There's so much of interest to read inside this mind of yours, and if you keep volunteering, you and it will just have to share everything forever. And NOT share Metan with any other eggs, that one's important. Even if that crackling-burning isn't going anywhere anytime soon, and feels like it's heating up inside your head as those ghostly fingernails keep paging through. Keep this one, keep that one … what were you thinking here, exactly, never do that AGAIN, silly boy … »

The Commemoration of Egg to Rulayn> « A Light in the Darkness has a tiny flicker of candlelight in its darkness, a beckoning beacon to draw curious minds inwards, into its sombre depths. Were those other eggs bold and brash? No, not this one. As if plucking out your memories of its unhatched siblings, this one flicks away the sugar rush, stifles the nausea, muffles the thoughts of hot blueriders. This egg is solid, staid, and yet not without its own plans - it wants to know what's out there. Tell it a story of the world beyond. »

"I have really great plans," Metan tells that egg, his lips curving into a crooked smile. "You'll see. Silly? No.. brilliant." He's talking softly to the egg, hopefully not speaking too much to disturb those around him. He should touch another egg but what's the point? This one's got a hold on him and there's plenty to consider in those colored swirls.

Doktah's eyes widen. She nearly pulls back from the egg entirely, but manages to at least keep her fingetips on the shell. Maybe it was just a little overwhelming at first? Wait. Maybe this egg actually has some good ideas. A smile slowly spreads on her lips. "Yes! Exactly. Finally, someone who gets it." And they're an egg. "Wouldn't it be nice if the whole weyr could be so toasty? Of course. I don't know why everyone doesn't get it…"

Favored Familiar Egg to Jeltje> « Nine Times Lucky envelopes you in darkness… a soft, plush and fur-like darkness not wholly unlike the shell you're touching now. It's warm there, comforting and muffled somewhere you can hear the sound of a heart, beating away in a lulling, comfortable pace. Slowly and with feline-like laziness it uncoils itself and goes on to weave and wind among your thoughts, brushing up against this or that but with indifferent importance. Mhm, yes. Very nice. It'll sense that anger in you and pick up on the shards of your past but they're dismissed or engulfed instead as it just settles there, like a heavy comforting weight, whether you want it there or not. »

Last-Second Tiger Costume Egg to Doktah> « Aggravatingly Indecisive Adolescent Ingrate holds onto that idea of a hot Weyr for a moment. Yes. Heat. Heat is good. It's toasty around the bottom… of it's shell, that is! Growing dragons like heat, except FARANTH NO TOO HOT, TOO HOT, TOO HOT! The idea of all that hotness is shoved away like a teenager rejecting their vegetables. NO THANK YOU. WHAT ELSE HAVE YOU GOT? Digging, digging, digging - PARTY! PARTY PARTY PARTY! Is this a party for ME? Are you planning a party for ME? »

Rulayn tilts her head slightly and for a moment, a nervous smile touches the corner of the girl's lips. Well, this one was.. Different? Hopefully not misleading either. "Igen, Ierne, Xanadu.." Rulayn begins to recite a list, each with their own share of memories, both good and bad. She lets her touch linger for just a little longer, intruiged and curious by this dragon-to-be.

The Commemoration of Egg to Rulayn> « A Light in the Darkness takes each place memory and examines it, poring over the details. Interesting. A wave of heat raises up over you - did you realise they are all hot places? Heat like the Sands that burn under your feet, prickling against your skin. There's a reflection of your own image of you, right there in your mind, sun-kissed - sunburnt - on Igen's sand, then Ierne's beaches, and finally in the heat of Xanadu's forests. More. It wants more. Where will we go? »

Doktah blinks, looking at the eggshell with renewed confusion. "Er… no…" She says in a confused, almost apologetic sort of tone. "I mean, I'm sure you can have a party for you once you're hatched? But this party is going to happen before then. It's for one of the weyrwomen." Her smile turns sheepish now. "I'm sorry. I'd invite you if I could, it's just… logistically challenging."

Jeltje's eyes drift closed, her expression softening to something more serene, but this change is a nothing if not a little too sudden. Her hand begins to slip away from the shell, arm falling back against her side, and before she can surrender to too much, she snaps her eyes open once more, her features pale. And then she's on the move. Fast, even if her feet don't quite want to do as they're told. At least she moves away from the eggs, back the way the Candidates have travelled, quicker and quicker until she succeeds in getting one foot off of the Sands. Then the other. That's when she hits the deck, will-power having carried her so far and no further.

Last-Second Tiger Costume Egg to Doktah> « Aggravatingly Indecisive Adolescent Ingrate stops. WHOA. Logistically challenging? Do you realise who you are? Through the scattered mess of memories tossed here, there and everywhere amongst the messy colours tossed haphazardly earlier, this mind bustles and flusters and searches, looking for - YES. What is it? An invention! Made - or conceived - by you. Another one is picked up - a theory! You can make it happen! Another one, and another one, and another one, and another one, and another one… all the concepts and half-baked ideas and inventions and everything you've ever thought of is thrown back at you - a rapid-fire assault of your own creativity. If anyone can make it happen, it's you. Now where's the best party outfit? »

Rulayn slowly begins to frown as she begins to squirm. Is the heat of the sands getting to her? Her hands stay where they are though, and she seems a little resigned. "I.. Don't know." She seems to respond, uncertainty clear in her voice. It seems as if she continues to stroke the egg, as if attempting to reassure it. "Igen? Ierne? Xanadu?"

M'icha lingers on the fringes for a reason folks! He likes to pick off the runners. In Jeltje's case, she's not so much a runner and when the Candidate hits the deck, the old bluerider just heaves a sigh. "Well, at lest you were considerate about it." he mutters as he shuffle-limps his way over and, quite painfully, crouches to at least check on her before he barks: "Am'ry! Get over here and take her, will you? Don't think she cracked her skull but… Infirmary anyways till the Healers say otherwise. I'll take care of the rest of the whelps."

Doktah ponders the feedback from the egg. "Well, I… I mean I suppose it's possible, yes." She admits, distinctly uncomfortable about where this is going. "But even if I could invent something that would help transport you safely to the party, I think your mother would strongly disapprove." She worriedly glances at the gold, then is further distracted by the shouting for one of the others to be taken to the infirmary. That's no good. Maybe she should leave before the heat gets to her too? "I'm sorry. It was nice meeting you. I'm sure you'll get lots of parties in the future." She pulls her hand back. Time to get off the sands.

The runner catches his attention, but since M'icha's there Am'ry only watches. The bluerider rolls his eyes when Jeltje faints, of all things, and he strides on over when he's called for. "Damn weaklings can't handle it," he says in amusement, though it's only teasing. Just for M'icha's benefit he flexes his arms before he crouches to scoop up the fallen candidate, curling arms under her shoulders and knees so he can rest her weight against his torso. "Infirmary," he informs M'icha as he carries his unconscious burden out into the bowl.

The Commemoration of Egg to Rulayn> « A Light in the Darkness crackles its flames, soft, gentle, thoughtful, considering: could be. Could be. It suggested those places, though, have you got — do you have more places in there? The flames tickle and flicker at the edges of Rulayn's thoughts, trying to find other places she's been, other ideas they could encounter, create. What's this, what's that. The images scroll by overlaid in brightness and wild rainbows tantamount to that of its shell, and if you're getting a little dizzy … oops? It's beautiful. At least it's beautiful. »

There's not a lot Rulayn's mind can offer as she tries to think of the possibilities. It's all so much to comprehend, with the vast palette of colours and shapes. "Pretty." She murmurs, although it seems that she can't keep up with whatever is transpiring and she eventually has to break the contact. ".. I don't think I can offer any more." She softly replies, pulling her shaking hands away and dragging herself to her feet. She's a little wobbly on those skinny legs, but strong enough to hold her own. Lips curved in another frown, the young woman scans the Sands a final time before turning on heel and trudging back some distance from the clutch, closer to the exit. There she waits, running a hand across her sweating forehead and ruffling her knotted blonde-brown hair. She's wordless, but she seems finished with the Sands, for now.

M'icha stays true to his word and once Am'ry is off and away with his charge, he'll turn to the rest of the group. "Alright the lot of you! Times up. File up and get out," he grumbles, jutting a thumb over his shoulder as he takes his usual stance by the entrance. He'll lean heavily on his cane while glowering at the Candidates, willing them to hurry up and out and not push his temper or patience. Indeed, the one who straggles? Risks getting a tap to the back of the legs from his cane if they don't book it. Once they're gone, the Weyrlingmaster will fall in line and follow.

Rulayn doesn't need to be told twice, as M'icha's call sounds across the sands. Arms folding to brace herself for the cooler temperatures outside, Rulayn makes her way off the Sands and through the entrance, heading back towards the Barracks with a pensive expression and another long sigh.

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