'The World of Pern(tm)' and 'The Dragonriders of Pern(r)' are copyright to Anne McCaffrey (c) l967, 2000. This is a recorded online session, by permission of the author but generated on PernWorld MUSH for the benefit of people unable to attend.

Log by Diz

Fort Weyr - Living Caverns(#10592RJ$)
This cavern, having been created by bubbles in the volcanic flow of this extinct volcano, has a breathtaking ceiling — a vast dome that arches high above the heads of the weyrfolk that scurry around beneath it. A hollow echo can be heard from loud enough noises, and the chatterings of various firelizards are consequently multiplied into a chaotic babble. All in all, the living cavern is a loud place.
Tables are scattered around the room, apparently in no particular order. Over to one side near the kitchens, two medium sized serving tables are constantly spread with snacks, klah, and other goodies. The tables look worn, yet perfectly fitted to the atmosphere of the caverns. In the 'corners' of the cavern, smaller two and four place tables are set up for more private talks or just a less chaotic atmosphere in which to eat.

People: Diz X'an
Firelizards: Nimrod
Objects: Fort Weyr Menu Board Posted Announcement Basket of eggs

Obvious exits:
Lower Caverns -LC- Stairway -ST- Game Room -GR- Kitchen -K- North Bowl -NB- Guard Post -GP-
Sianne moves into the living cavern, from the north bowl.
Sianne has arrived.

Diz is in fine spirits today but then it would be difficult not to be: the sun's finally shown itself after days of grey skies, and everything outside is bright blue or diamond-spark on white. The candidate's cheeks are rosy from the cold but there's a smile gracing her lips, and a hum swelling in her throat. Something nautical from the sound of it. She aims herself at the hearth, and the klah, tugging her gloves off finger by finger as she goes.

Sianne isn't in to bad a spirits herself, who wouldn't be in good spirits after spending part of the day listening to healers give orders left and right, "Singin' again Diz? Musta been a good day of chores for ya then hmmm?"

X'an is crouched by that hearth, a hunched up figure peering over the top of the small rag-basket that's settled there. Balanced on the balls of his feet, he's actually poised like he half expects the tiny occupants to explode like grenades. "That was a twitch. I'm /telling/ you Auntie Jaqui, that was a /twitch/." he accuses of an old maid warming herself there. The old aunt simply chuckles at him. "Oh yeah, they twitch… gonna /getcha/ X'an…" crabbing fingers at him like a witch in a fairytale.

"No chores at all. Elara gave me the day off," Diz responds, shrug a careless thing but smile still lingering. "I spent the morning in the guards' training area, had an early lunch, had a nap and now I am going to enjoy this klah and maybe sharpen my knives." Before she sits, she pauses to pull a sheaf of papers from her back pocket— thick enough that it's more just curved in the center instead of folded— and tosses the on the table. "Zan, you're going to blind yourself," she puts in with a sigh, sinking into a chair. "Besides, it's weyrfolk who say a watched egg never cracks, right?"

Sianne says "I had my free day yesterday, got infirmery duties today but spent most of that rolling bandages and filling water pitchers." not that she's complaining mind you "Did you know that there is a right way and a wrong way to roll a bandage? I learned that the way I do is the wrong way." cue the over done eye roll as she dramatically sinks into a chair not far from X'an and his eggies "Keep watching them and their gonna rot instead of hatch, or with them being as close to the hearth as they are they could just bake in their shells.""

Zaelei walks into the living cavern, from the guard post.
Zaelei has arrived.

X'an looks up left and right from his crouch at the fireside, hovering over a small basket set there. "That's the theory. If I watch them in here, they'll rot or never hatch at all…." he grins lopsided and straightens, taking steps back from the object as if it might bite him if he stays too long, and hides behind the back of his leather hearth chair. Leaning elbows down on the back of it, he tips his head. "Happy Turnday Diz. Feel any crustier for your encroaching age? You'll have to go and take a look at Rockfall next time you're on stable duty. She has a surprise for you."

"Mmm." That would be Diz's way of marking her appreciation for the fine mug of klah she's currently sipping from. Fingers warmed, cheeks and nose still red-tipped, she settles in comfortably for the afternoon. The next order of business, knife-sharpening. As promised. "Crusty indeed, sir," she says oh so pleasantly, drawing out the obnoxiously large blade that's sheathed at the small of her back. A whetstone is produced from a pocket and spat upon. "I imagine it'll only be a turn or two before I can count myself among the ranks of the decrepit and used up. How's that treating you, by the way?" The matter of the runner is acknowledged with a slight upquirk of her brows but she says only, "That was considerate of her."

Zaelei sits at a nearby table. She's just watching the fanfare of people drift too and fro, in and out the cavern. The tech-craft apprentice is sipping klah and attempting to eat some food. Attempting because she's just pushing the few things around her plate.

X'an glances from Diz to the new face, pale eyes looking up and down the young woman thoughtfully. To Diz though, his absent reply comes, chin rested on his folded and splayed elbows. "Aaah, the cold weather's a bugger, my arthritis plays up all the time, everyone's younger than I am and still has a full head of hair without white, and /AND/ I get these whippersnapper types telling me I need to put my false teeth in and suck eggs." all delivered drolly, one eyebrow spocks a tad, and he snorts. "The usual." - then flicking his eyes back to the newcomer, he straightens, hands holding the back of his chair. "Welcome to Fort miss. Our Hospitalities to you….?"

Zaelei smiles. She turns around in her chair, not exactly stunned, but not witless either. "Thank you." she says quickly. "The name's Zaelei." she extends a hand. "Sr.Apprentice Techcrafter."

Diz gives a very unladylike snort, just to round out today's performance of Everything A Lady Should Not Do, and begins to work the knife's edge against the whetstone. "Was -that- what you were doing down by the hearth? It all becomes clear," she murmurs, but quietly so as not to intrude on the introductions occurring nearby. She glances up, her own darker eyes scanning the unfamiliar face. "Afternoon, apprentice."

"Good day, apprentice Zaelei." Inclining his head, X'an pats a hand to the back of the chair and just /eyes/ Diz for a long moment. It's a good job he's proprietous, or she might end up with a wedgie. "What brings you to Fort, may I ask? Are we lucky enough to have a techcrafter in residence now?" - returning eyes to the black haired lass.

Zaelei nods. "Not in residence sir," she corrects. "Just passing through, visiting a friend of mine." she explains. She takes a deep drink of klah, and then looks towards the hearth. "Though if there's something that needs looking at I could take a look."

Diz tests the edge of her knife against the pad of one thumb, head cocked to the side. Not sharp enough, it would seem, as she resumes grinding away against the whetstone a moment later. "All you need do is follow our esteemed weyrleader around, and I'm sure you'll find something," she remarks in dry tones, smile going all sorts of lopsided while she glances at X'an. "I imagine the Weyr could do with a permanent tech, all things considered. There might be fewer explosions, for one."

X'an groans lightly. Noone is going to notice him beaning a rag from the little rag basket at the back of Diz's head are they? Well, they are, but he at least /tries/ to make it look as if he could pull off 'Whaaaat? Someone's throwing stuff. *nodnod*' were he to be glared at. BEAN! "I'm not as bad as that. It's just when things malfunction I'm usually around. That's -all-. And silly errors, like forgetting to plug the sharding things in…"

Zaelei tries not to laugh. "Exploxsions..?" she sounds a bit nervous. "When things malfunction your usually around, did you ever think that perhaps…" she quiets down. Not her place to say. "Never mind."

"Hey!" It's generally considered poor form to throw things at people who are armed and dangerous. And, while the dangerous is questionable, Diz is certainly armed. She proves it a second after the rag bounces off of her braids by flourishing the knife at X'an. "You're asking for a scar in the other shoulder," she informs him all growly like, smile effectively hidden. "And see? Even the techcrafter thinks you're a gadget jinx. She'd be the expert, wouldn't she? He once made the power go out in the entire hatching cavern, you know."

"I'd put that knife down, Diz. Once is ok and forgiveable, twice and I'm having issues." X'an's firm look may or may not take in the smile so cunningly hidden from him, but the glint in his eyes is marked. After giving Diz a firm looking at, he flicks attention back to Zaelei, shaking his head faintly. "She's exaggerating. I've never actually blown a single thing up. Lightbulbs sometimes go poofle, but actual rocketting of matter out from a central point? Never."

Zaelei smirks. "I'm no expert." she says modestly. She blinks in shock, "The power in the hatching cavern… it all went out? What did he-" she rephrases the questions and directs it at X'an. "What's you do?" She smiles. "Lightbulbs are apt to die."

Diz actually chuckles softly as she settles back in her chair, inspecting the blade again. This time it meets with her approval and she leans forward briefly to sheath it, a second produced from her boot a moment later. "Not exaggerating by much," she remarks— and if she weren't Diz, someone might almost be able to accuse her of using a cheerful tone of voice. But then, harassing X'an always did improve her mood, even when it wasn't necessary.

"The hatching cavern power-outtage had nothing to do with me, mischief." Mutter-mutter sidelong glare. X'an shakes his head a little. "Whereas you… you're just a hazard to gentlemen and ladies everywhere."

Diz pauses in her knife-grinding to glance up, brows lifted at the rider. "And just what are you suggesting, brother mine?" she asks far too casually. "You couldn't possibly be saying that I am a danger to those around me, could you?" that smile is becoming more and more evident, dancing around the edges of her expression without quite showing.

X'an scoffs. "Far be it for me to say such things. Evidence speaks for itself." Quirk. Twitch. Outright grin. Around then, one of the eggs twitches visibly, and he jerks his head around to stare at the now-still ovoids. "It did it again. Did you see?"

The sudden change in subject causes Diz to startle a little. She follows his glance, just in time to see the egg… do nothing. "Right, Zan. Yous ee, this proves that you have no idea what you're talking about. Obviously you're imagining things about me -and- those eggs. Now be a good weyrleader and fetch me some more klah, would you? It's only hospitable."

"Get it yourself! There's nothing wrong with your legs or your hands, Svandis. I'm not a person to have folks wait on me and if I'm not, you sure can do it yourself too!" maturely, X'an sticks his tongue out at his sister, tosses his head back and shakes his bootie at her with a butt-slap for emphasis. Noone needs any explanation as to what -that- means… and it gets the old auntie by the fireside giggling and wheezing.

And that, friends and neighbors, is the opportunity Svandis was looking for. No sooner is that bootie presented to her than she drops the whetstone into her lap, snatches up the rag that had been tossed at her head and fires it in a wad directly at his left cheek. "Brat!"

And it bounces readily off the tight touch of leather to a hienie. Whipping his hand around to make a grab for it, the typical happens of two missed grabs, a duck and fumble, and a grasp on the fourth try as it bounces in a helpful fashion. Boing! He's so coordinated. "I learn from example." is the retort.

"I'm going to tell Y'ric you said that," she shoots back, smile now plain on her face and ever so triumphant. "You're the big brother, remember? You're supposed to be setting -my- example. And what am I getting? Tongues stuck out and fanny dances. Honestly, Zantos!"

X'an chortles. "By all means do tell. I'll keep an ear out or the crowing." he replies, hand on his hip wodging the rag up there with it. "You pick and choose your examples, you do. I'm sure it's skipped your notice that it took twenty nine turns for Y'ric to become an upstanding citizen… he was out philandering and living it up for the turns prior, hmm?" he sticks his chest out and huffs exaggeratedly. "Took me pipping in at the wings to get him to grow a responsibility urge…" wink.

Diz settles back in her chair, smile fading into an amused grin. "Twenty nine, hmm? Nice to know I have a little more time left before I have to -really- begin to behave myself. But I seriously doubt fanny dances are what will turn that tide…" She slips the knife in her other hand back into its sheath, reminded now to push those papers she'd dropped earlier over towards him. "Speaking of, brother, those might interest you." She's casual again.

X'an tips his head to the side, lifting his eyebrows both toward his hairline, he steps closer to pick up the papers and read them. "And what things are these that might interest me?" he inquires.

They're an even mix of floor plans, cost estimates and profit prediction over a five turn course. For (what else!) a casino, styled on the best to be found in Bitra. Come to think of it, some of the pages look to be taken almost directly from certain of the books kept by one wily Lord. Diz just gives her prettiest smile, props her chin in one hand and her elbow on the table, and waits for him to finish.

X'an's eyes read over the statistics, eyebrows lowering by degrees until they're on a level with impassiveness once again, gaze flying to figures and costs and estimates and profits in short order, doublechecking. Gone is her brother, replaced by a businessman with a shrewd analytical kind of mind. He doesn't think too much? Y'ric's just the kind of man that thinks about different things, that's all… "Initial cost is a hefty one." he notes. "We're looking at masonry, establishment outside of an already existing construct, decoration, stylistic tailoring, and hiring a lot of trustworthy individuals. Not to mention the safety deposit vault." the last page is scrutinized, then he fixes on Diz. "Have you done a local assessment as to need and want?"

"The last page actually offers a less expensive alternative, through simply renovating the existing games room and channeling profits from that turns down the road into a separate structure," she points out, pleased enough by the change in his demeanor that she's willing to show it. "The initial outlay is possible, however. I can put a large portion of it up myself, and there would be a number of investors… oh bah, Zantos, the riffraff around here would hardly be able to afford a place like this. Notice the thousand and one uses of the word 'exclusive' in my estimates? We want to -draw- people in. The workforce can come from here and there's always a need for more jobs."

X'an looks at the material again, lowering one brow, lifting the other a margin, scans it once more, and fixes her another look. "Do you actually have any idea how much outlay you're looking at here? I strongly doubt you have a handy fifty marks to throw around. Or was your life before here -really- that lucrative?" - there's no joke on his expression, no tease or taunt, it's genuine interest. WAS she that successful a pirate?

Diz doesn't answer right away. She looks as if she's weighing whether honesty will leap up and bite her on the butt in this instance. Eventually she decides in the favor of the truth. "The ship that landed me here wasn't the first we went after," the young woman tells him, quietly enough that even the nearby aunties won't be able to hear it. "And I didn't hand over everything I had to you to pay for that runner. I've fifteen marks burning a hole in my press right now and what better place to put them then towards something that will help you… and Fort… out of a bind? Besides…" She cracks a smile. "I'd insist on operating the thing. I'll make a dashing businesswoman, don't you think?"

X'an favours a slight smile at that. "Fifteen marks, hmm?" - he remains silent for a while, assessing the proposal once again, and flicks a look to the games room idly. The gears are turning, yes they are. "I'll think about it, and discuss it with Elara." he offers at last. *TWITCH - egg movement*

Elara walks into the living cavern, from the north bowl.
Elara has arrived.

"Yes, well, it might have been more but we actually encountered a crew that knew what they were doing." Diz pokes a small bit of fun at herself before growing more serious. "Thank you," she says more formally. "I appreciate you having a look at those. It took me some time to compile them." She sinks back in her chair, just in time for a trace of movement to catch her attention at the corner of an eye. "Ah… X'an? I think that one wriggled."

Elara steps into the Living Cavern bundled up to keep the chill away. Shaking some snow from her boots she sheds her heavy coat and smooths wrinkles out of her vest before moving towards the hearth. Smiling about the Living Cavern she breathes a happy sigh. So nice to have things back to normal. Mostly, anyway.

X'an is brandishing paperwork, stood behind his chair by the hearth, so that there's a distance between himself and the basket of /DANGEROUSLY EXPLOSIVE/ firelizard eggs. "Hmmm?" blinking at Diz, he looks at the eggs just in time for another to wiggleshimmy, and bury itself in the rags. "Oh shards. Bother. They're almost ready to hatch." - taking more steps back, he gives a small yelp as a fair of seven adult lizards arrive too take up various positions along the sideboard, perching and looking down at the basket. Gold, two bronzes, to browns a blue and a green all chatter with one another, then stare at the eggs.

"-Why- were you cuddled up to them earlier if you're so frightened? Honestly, Zantos, sometimes it amazes me that you're older than I am." She's only pretending to be exasperated though. Standing, Diz straightens her knife belt and turns to signal for a kitchen worker. "Meat," is all she needs to say— more than one person has been eyeing those eggs, and the cook's assistant is off in a snap to round up the needed bowls of scraps. In the meantime, Diz is left to politely greet the arriving weyrwoman. "Good evening, ma'am. Sit?" she offers, moving her own chair out.

Elara sighs, tiredly moving over towards the pair. "X'an," she corrects Diz. "And yes please. I love hatchings. They bring about such a happy feeling…" And she looks like she could use it, as she sinks slowly into her chair and smiles at the drudge who brings her a mug of hot water for her tea.

"Indeed. X'an. Zantos doesn't exist any more." - any similarities to the afforementioned young man that fled bitra in a hurry are purely coincidental. "I'm not afraid of them, I've been trying to guage how close they are to hatching to stay well clear of them, Svandis. I have a -knack- for impressing them, even when I'm not trying to." he informs curtly, watching the bowls of scraps being brought and smiling for Elara. "Precious has her own priorities.. I just pray that she's got enough lackeys and servants surrounding her now that she doesn't feel the urge to bring another around to her way of thinking." - he quiets then, as a couple of the eggs twitch more.

Diz appropriates a bowl of meat from one of the returning drudges. "X'an, of course." Trust that she's only momentarily chastened, in the use of his childhood name. But the matter is forgotten as she places herself at the side of the ring forming about the small twitching objects. "You know, I did regret not happening across one of these before I left Bitra the second time. It would have been easier to keep in touch with the people I didn't hate," she observes brightly.

Elara chuckles at X'an and nods, "Aye. Wiyaneth is similar to your Precious in that. She wants me to impress many because she knows I'll take care of them. Well, she'll take care of them. Silly maternal queen," she says with a fond smile. Diz is glanced at and then ignored. She just can't handle it tonight.

Speckled egg vibrates, digs itself a lot deeper into the little scrap pile it's nestled on, and disappears from sight.

Duckshell egg bounces on the spot, keels over on its side, bangs against a neighbour and starts to try and hop its way out of the basket entirely.

Zaelei is quietly sitting nearby. With gathering at the nest, she comes to see what's going on. A shaking egg catches her attention. She smiles, and glances around for a bowl of meat. One of the drudges brings it to her. She watches the various eggs, green eyes bouncing from egg to egg.

Keladry steps into the living cavern, from the north bowl.
Keladry has arrived.

X'an sighs a little, backing yet more steps away, as the fair of seven on the mantlepiece start a'humming a greeting to the newborns. "Shush. You are not going to con me into getting another one." he mutters at them.

"Fortunate for us that she's that way," Diz comments idly, in the tones of compliment. "I couldn't imagine if she were the protective sort…" Rather than messy her hands up now, she takes a knee beside the hearth and sets the bowl of meat in front of her. She'll begin dangling once there's something to tempt.

Elara smiles at Zaelei, "Hello there, I don't think we've met. Welcome to Fort, I'm Elara." She grins at Diz, "Oh, if you ever see a protective Gold, you'll thank Faranth you stood for one of Wiyaneth's clutches. She's unusual in that she's not so protective."

Speckled egg makes little tap-tapping noises inside the bundle of rags, then there's a squeal, a crack and…
Speckled egg hatches, revealing a egg-wet hatchling.

Tatty Brown Hatchling

Looking at this little fella's rather reminiscent of something, but it's hard to put the finger on it. The brown firelizard has a knobbly, lumpy kind of look, almost as if he just didn't quite get crafted right, or had to grow around his own bodyparts. A matte, dirty hue of loam makes him look as if he just got dug up out of the soil, speckles and dapples of a pale, irregular tan mix with beige to add to his mishapen self, wings transluscent and greenish, like shoots out of a tuber. His eyes are bright in his dark face though, talons a contrasting stoney grey. Last off is his tail, which curves downward, seeking the earth like a root.

Zaelei smiles. "Hello." she greets the Weyrwoman. Her eyes flit to the knot, then back to the woman. "I'm Zaelei." she says introducing herself, with quick dip of her head.

Tatty Brown Hatchling is now in a shell buried in rags. This could be so much better, y'know. Squalking and squealing his frustrations, the covering one atop him is attacked MOST viciously. RAAAAAAAAAAAAR! Die!

Diz spares a moment to glance up and echo a smile at Elara. "You can trust that I do thank my lucky stars. This has been—" Ah, but she's distracted by the sound of an egg breaking and finds herself unable to complete the sentence. Redirecting her attention, she focuses on the infant and immediately observes, "My word, he's hideous!"

Duckshell egg is a little bit more refined about its hatching. Rolling violently against the side of the basket, it hops against the edge, kinda.. top-turns itself and actually rolls out of the basket with a CRACK to the hearth. Unsurprisingly, this frees its occupant.
Duckshell egg hatches, revealing a egg-wet hatchling.

Succulent Blue Hatchling

Deep blues accentuate this rather large blue firelizard, his rounded form rather plump and happy. Light blue tips his headknobs and the top of his muzzle, giving him the appearance of having flown too close to a paintbrush. His wingsails are a lighter blue, just slightly different from the rest of his form. They shimmer like gossamer, shiny and waxy. His rounded belly is almost purple compared to the rest of him, legs short and squat, tubby tail and short neck adding to his general roundness, his brown claws being more hooked than normal so he doesn't fall off everything he tries to sit on.

Elara smiles at Zaelei and lifts a bit of meat, though she sits back easily, giving the others a chance to try first. She already has her fair of firelizards, and a queen dragon besides. She's just here to play hostess. "Well met, Zaelei," she says warmly. "Please help yourself to any food or drink." Diz gets a narrow look, but again Elara says nothing. Just looks very tired.

Zaelei blinks. She just stares at the brown. She swallows, and looks a bit mortified. As another egg hatches she prepares herself for more-horror. "Ahh.." she says looking away from the brown hatchling. She grins. "I've already done that, actually, earlier today."

Succulent Blue Hatchling sits up from the ruins of his home, looking dazed. Wonder why, hmm? Did anyone get the number of that dog-cart? If he could be seeing stars, he would be… but there's something more important than trying to figure which way is up and which down, and he staggers away from his shell, cheeping pathetically and dazedly. He can smell it. That promise of a full belly.

Diz, oft-times shallow creature that she is, doesn't appear to be fond of the blue that appears either. "A monster and a pudding. Do you think the gas affected the clutch?" She uses a scientific tone, bright and interested as if this were a matter that others might actually be curious about. As a precaution, she slides the bowl of bloody meat closer to herself, under her legs.

Keladry walks into the living caverns, just a bit dirty around the edges as per usual. It looks like she got her gardening duties back again today and she could not look happier. She wipes her hands on her pants as she heads in to grab a late lunch. As she notices the group about she heads over to them and notices the hatching taking place. As she approaches, the grin increases, "What do we have here?" She asks as she looks over the hatchlings, "Wow, they are so small…" By that time a small bowl of meat has been handed to her and she is instructed on what to do with it.

Elara tsks softly at Diz, "I think they're both fine the way they are," she says quietly. "They just need a little love." And some exercise and plastic surgery.

Immaculate egg delicately wibbles. That's it, all for now.

Zaelei blinks. "Gas" she looks abit concerned. "What gas?" she looks at the hatchlings who've left their shells then at Diz. "They are fine…" For mini-whers. She smiles encouragingly though.

Tatty Brown Hatchling leaps over the edge of the basket, wings buzzing and whirring as his claws get hooked in the rag he was attacking like a mad thing. And he dangles, inverted over the side of his former home, angrily trying to get himself untangled. After spinning left and right, getting thoroughly tangled, he's deposited as his claws come unstuck, on his belly on the hearthstones with a soft clatter of claws. Owwwwwwwwwww.

Succulent Blue Hatchling lifts his little head. Them things there are talking about him they are. But that's not important. What's important is that desperate need to fill his belly and doze off seconds afterwards. He staggers vaguely between Diz and Zaelei, heading out without much call to pay attention to more than the growl in his stomach, distracted by movement. He seems to be heading toward Keladry, wailing in protest.

Elara awws softly at the brown, "Poor thing." She nods at Zaelei. "Our old stable buiding exploded, and then they discovered gas seeping into our kitchens. Where the eggs were. Interesting theory though," she muses a bit at Diz. "Very rude, but interesting."

As the little blue heads her way, Keladry is quick to kneel down. "Are you alright?" She asks with concern in her voice. She sets the bowl down at one knee to reach for the creature. She looks around at the others here to see if they are concerned with the creatures cries before looking down at the little one again, then bites her lip before grabbing some meat out of the bowl, "Hungry like a kit?" She asks as she dangles that meat before him.

Zaelei nods in agreement. "Interesting, and it could have had an effect, I guess." she ponders it for a moment. "If the eggs were still soft-ish- you know like they're just been laid." Zaelei takes her atention back towards the eggs, the few unhatched ones then back to those hatched. She winces as the brown tumbles onto his belly.

H'las has arrived.

Immaculate egg taptaptaps. Is it time yet? Should this be the moment? Yes. Yes it should.
Immaculate egg hatches, revealing a egg-wet hatchling.

Not-yet Green Hatchling

This tiny green looks like she should have spent more time in the egg - she's not quite ripe. Tints of yellow streak across her pale green form, striated and giving her a streamlined shape. Her miniscule eyes spin rapidly, gathering as much information into her mind as she can. Wings are slender, very long and oddly backward curved, speckled jade decorating their insides. While her tail is short and upturned, her talons are long and ebony black, a stark contrast to the pale pastels of the rest of her.

X'an is NOT hiding behind his chair, peeking over the top of it. He isn't. It's not him you can see peering with wide eyes down at the hatchlings and eggs, trying in vain to shush the fair on the mantle, humming like mad things as they are. If he stays here, they're not going to come near him. He has no food!
"Why rude? It's the truth that that one is ugly and that one is fat." Diz allows herself a faint, crooked smile. "It's unfortunate when honesty is considered rude. And who knows what sort of effect that gas might have had. Personally, if I were a healer with a bent towards biology, I'd be dying of curiosity to find out how much environment affects the— ah ha, see? Another one. I'd say the theory was sound." This time though, she plucks up a strip of fatty meat and drapes it down her palm and fingers.

Elara smiles over at Keladry, watching to see if she impresses the plump little blue. Then she giggles at the new green, "Oh my…" She just shrugs at Zaelei, "Mabie. Though I wouldn't want to test it and find out." She just sighs at Diz.

Not-yet Green Hatchling delicately steps out of the housing she was kept in, little paws twitching as she serenely flicks her tail and hops onto the side of the basket. Little wings spread wide, drying in the warm hearth air, and she surveys her brothers, making menaces of themselves. She's not so much taking her time, she's just got priorities and doesn't want to fall flat on her face.

Tatty Brown Hatchling rowrs at a foot! A FOOT! and it's in his WAY! Get out of the way foot! He pounces atop Diz's boot, rawling and savagely diving facefirst into her food bowl that she so /cunningly/ hid from him. UGLY am I?! Well you ain't so hot yourself! You're all… oh, no.. that's a boot. Up his eyes look.

Tatty Brown Hatchling looks into Diz's eyes. Impression!

Zaelei watches. A green! Her eyes focus on the little firelizard. "It's possible I guess. I wouldn't want to test it either. If anything it was just a little bad luck. Nothing that could be changed." She says half-heartedly, as she goes back to looking at the little oddly colored green. She looks at the other firelizards and eggs. "Kind cute really,more like whers…" she comments.

Cream egg bulges unnaturally, testing the possibilities of physics.

Succulent Blue Hatchling whines and waddles his tubby way closer to Keladry. She'll look after this dizzy little fellow. Please, give me lovin' and feedin' and make my head stop spinning would you? He's a little concussed right now, from having exploded out of his egg by falling out of the basket. Anyone would be a little out of sorts. So we've ugly, and tubby, and now we've got unripe. He ignores his sister, in favour of a really loving little hoot up at Keladry's face.

Succulent Blue Hatchling looks into Keladry's eyes. Impression!

Diz yelps— fierce guard that she is— and tries to disengage the brown's jaws without breaking him or losing a patch of boot leather. "Oh you little menace, no! Bad baby!" She pokes the corner of the meat strip into his mouth to convince him to let go, and that does the trick. It's only after the strip is gobbled and he's demanding more does she appear to realize what's happened. "Shells," she mutters, retreating a pace back after scooping the tiny creature up in one hand.

Plain egg shimmies. SHIMMIES I say! Shimmy shimmy shimmy. DONK. Straight against its cream coloured companion.

Cream egg only needed that collosion to crack s'more. Thanks buddy.

Cream egg hatches, revealing a egg-wet hatchling.

Halloween Brown Hatchling

Wow! This little brown firelizard sticks out among his fellows if only for his incredibly /vivid/ hue. He's not really all that brown, moreover he's orangey. Really, /really/ orangey. The practically luminscent hue courses his entire framework, fading to a sort of tangerine over his wingsails, the variation he sports is in greenish undercurrents, a splotch ontop of his head, and in odd triangular shaped umber patches over both eyes that give his 'ridges a hollow look, with that little jewelled eye in the middle. He's also rather tubby looking, quite cuddly for a firelizard, with tiny, blunted greenish-brown talons completeing his eye-ful of orangeness.

Elara grins at the brown's impression. Hahaha. "Congratulations." Smug. "Oooh, congratulations to you as well, Keladry!"

Another voice will add its hum to the symphony here. A distinct little trumpet which seems to be concocted of wholly rusty tubing blares out its fierce growly rumble. That would be Sekhem, swooping into the living caverns on a dark mantle of sinister brown soured with red dashes. His blonde perch is not too far behind; H'las strides into the caverns with smart clunks of his boots, and a chuckle. "So this is why you came along - augh! Settle down!" H'las admonishes the flapping brown flit with a wave of his hand when Sekhem doubles back and attempts to land in the soft nest of blonde hair there. Sekhem finds a better perch on the back of a chair near X'an, where he digs mossy talons into the wood and puffs up his chest, resuming his growled hum. H'las' eyes dart at the sound of a yelp, and they narrow ever so slightly when Diz is seen. After a moment of jaw-clenching and quiet dagger glares, the Igenite comes to stand next to X'an. "I came to steal some of Fort's food, but looks like there's a show, as well," he muses, looking at the poor hiding man.

Not-yet Green Hatchling is green yes! Green, green, green. Really, she is. Hopping down onto the hearth as her brothers get themselves keepers, she seems to be disregarding this in favour of being elsewhere. Food attracts her nostrils to flaring, and she hop-glides toward the prospect. She will not be her brother's keeper, but would someone be hers? She is /not/ a wher. She's just unique and special! Zaelei, I'm looking at your fingers here girl!

Not-yet Green Hatchling looks into Zaelei's eyes. Impression!

Diz is oblivious to any smug or poisonous looks. There's a blobby brown infant to feed and lectures to deliver that have to do with not shrieking or tearing up perfectly good highly polished boots. She'd just attended to those this morning, thank you very much. But once the little fellow stops with the hollaring, the candidate does manage a little smile when he curls— grey-brown and hideous— in the crook of her arm. "Congratulations," she offers both Keladry and Zaelei, when she thinks to look up at the remaining clutch. And look, orange! "My…"

Elara just shakes her head in bewilderment. What is up with these firelizards? She watches with detatched interest, her eyes going to H'las and…well, her expression doesn't give anything away.

Zaelei blinks, she nearly tumbles over as the little green firelizard finds, her. She swallows. "Thanks." she says quietly to whoever it was who thanked her. She tilited her head to the side, just watching. Her eyes tumble back to the others- orange? She makes a curious sound.

Keladry blinks as she gets the little cheep in her mind and cants her head at the little blue hatchling, pausing for a moment before she scoops him up in one hand and few more tidbits of meat in the other hand. "Well let us get you fed.." The little blue eats greedily from her fingertips. She gives him a once over, "Well seems you are otherwise in one piece.." There is a grin on her lips that just grows as she tends to this little one.

Powdery egg hasn't moved yet at all. It's been decidedly unmoving actually.

X'an flicks his eyes up to H'las, idly hedging behind the igenite so that he's obscured from the sight of the little flittery ones. "A show, if you can call it a show, aye. Stealing our food might get you clear of the impact zone, Hal, unless you were inclined to a cronie companion to Sekhem." nodding at the brownrider's shoulder-percher, he sighs, looking around at those that have impressed, and down at the …."My word he really is a tad bright, isn't he? AUGH! No, I am not going to even /look/." And he turns his head away.

Plain egg is left with little other choice than to make it's own entrance. Another bulge of dimensions against physics, and the egg caves to the internal pressure, falling and sloughing away.

Plain egg hatches, revealing a egg-wet hatchling.

Roasted Brown Hatchling

Long and thin, this burned brown fellow is tapered. His chest is broader by far than his hips, giving him a torpedo-like look, head held over a squat neck, he's mostly tail. Cream highlights seem to illuminate the brunette look he has going on, neckspars and talons protruding from the streamlined lookk with backward slanted blackness. There's a glaze all along his back though, as if he were dipped in honey and /then/ fired in the oven, giving the all-over baked aspect a tangy finish.

Diz studies the second brown to hatch. "Bright is a good word for it. I'm telling you, the gas had to have affected the eggs. Look, that one hasn't even wobbled yet." A dud, perhaps? She looks it over with mild interest, lips pursed thoughtfully and fingertips wandering over the ridged back of the dozing brown. He's eaten so much that he looks completely round, curled up as he is. Her other hand creeps absently to fiddle with the grip of her beltknife. Habit.

Zaelei scoops up her little friend, and ponders a name for her. She runs a finger down the oddly colored green's back, "Bright… yes…" she says swallowing. "I'm starting to think your theory is right… not that they aren't cute…" she grins. "But perhaps that little egg won't hatch."

Halloween Brown Hatchling shakes his head, unfurls his wings, and sits there, looking glaring and eye-sore-like. Left and right his head swings around, looking at all the faces surrounding him, and his thin brother. HAH. Beat you to the finish line. But his stomach rowls, and he wanders in a passive kind of way to spread his glaring wings in the firelight, hops up and staaaaaaaaaaaaaares at everyone. Stare, stare, stares.

Elara shakes her head again, biting her lower lip. "I hope that one hatches," she muses, watching the unmoving egg. "It'd be so sad if it didn't…" The two browns she watches with some amusement. "What strange colorations…"

"Hmm, I just might." H'las scratches at his chin, wholly oblivious to Elara's…non-looks. He chuckles at X'an as the man inches behind him, and shakes his head faintly. "I guess if I had as many as you do, I'd be hiding, too." Blue eyes look to Sekhem thoughtfully. "Maybe another one will keep this bastard in line," the Igenite chuckles. "Meat?" A grabby-hand gesture in the air is swiftly rewarded, as an onlooker foists some tidbits into his palm. "Thanks." H'las crouches and waddles closer. He'll not be displacing anyone else rudely, but simply holds out his little collection of vittles to let the fates do as they may.

Roasted Brown Hatchling uncurls and unfurls. Neck and head snap out, and he sprawls on the rags, panting and chirping in irritation as his hide dries of egg-goop. It makes him glisten all the more in glazed-honey goodness. He's just going to lie here though, and pant. After all, he gave his brother a shove. HE had to hatch all on his lonesome.

Zaelei nods in agreement with Elara. "True, but in a way… it maybe for the best." she looks to the two browns. "I wouldn't want it to not hatch, but…" she looks to her green and then to the others of the clutch. "I hope it does." she murmurs.

"You're welcome to try. Welcome." X'an will pat H'las on the back he will, and plaster his back against the wall closest to the hearth, watching the rest of the clutch like a wary hawk. "Sometimes they just don't make it… I think it happens a lot more in the wild than in clutches looked after by people. But they do look mighty.. erm.." well, he doesn't have the diplomacy for it right now.

"Malformed?" Diz suggests helpfully, displaying that finely honed negative diplomacy of hers. Further comment is thankfully avoided when the brown who assaulted her boot puts his head up suddenly and squawks, a sleepy demand for another chunk of meat. She obliges, stuffing it down his throat while commenting, "I think I'll name you Brute…"

Halloween Brown Hatchling stares. Lookee at these folks staring at him. Grub. Gimme grub. GRUB NOW! little tiny eyes in their triangular markings are brilliant red as he suddenly goes into movement, spreading wings and flying toward H'las like a cross-bow bolt just got released, the little fella actually lands on the brownrider's hand, curls his tiny tail underneath the man's wrist, and extricates the meat from fingertips. Who needs to approach and mosey on in rudely? HAH. He'll come to the victi'…er… he'll come to you.

Halloween Brown Hatchling looks into H'las's eyes. Impression!

Elara crosses her legs, the meat rather forgotten in her hand as she just watches the strange clutch. "I'm glad the seep wasn't in the hatching grounds," she muses softly. Then she squeaks as the brown arrows for H'las. "My goodness!"

Powdery egg really, really isn't moving. A tiny little weak sound issues from inside the egg.

H'las smiles as Halloween Brown Hatchling flies over and lands on his shoulder.
Zaelei eyes are focused on the little firelizard. She hums under beath. "You need a name…" she says aloud. She looked the the green again. Pale and strong. She frowned. "A good name, Ivi?" she suggests. The only response was a chirp. "Ivi it is."

Roasted Brown Hatchling turns his head toward the only remaining egg in the clutch that's whole. Whirring, he slithers on his belly away from the object, slides over the edge of the basket and darts like the torpedo he resembles, into the shadows to the side of the basket. There is no brown. There is no spoon. There is only… ok, there's this hole in his stomach, but … They're all /odd/.

Elara looks at Powdery egg and shifts in her chair, looking around at the others. She bites her lower lip and glances in the vicinity of the hatching ground. Back to the egg. She scoots forward on her chair until she's sitting on the ground, inching towards the basket. "Perhaps it wasn't part of this clutch and isn't ready to hatch yet?" she offers.

"They certainly seem to know what they want though, hmm? Nothing wrong with their instinct." Then Diz stands up. Remember that knife she'd had been fiddling with? She pops it out of the sheath with her one free hand, reverses it in her grip and steps forward to kneel beside the basket with a cheerful, "Less talking, more action." The butt end of the grip is brought down once, then twice sharply on the powdery egg's crown— hard enough to crack it without driving anything down into the creature within.

Elara gasps at Diz, grabbing for the knife wildly, "What do you think you're doing?!" she cries, "You're going to kill the poor thing!" She even tries to push Diz back away from the basket.

Powdery egg cracks with the sharp blow, the creel inside becoming more insistant and scared sounding, but that was enough to do the job. Even then, the knife had to come down quite hard, the shell of this particular egg seems to be thicker and harder than most normally would be. A strange, strange clutch.. and…. poor thing….

Powdery egg hatches, revealing a egg-wet hatchling.

Squishy Blue Hatchling

A tiny little ball of blueness, this firelizard is a bright shade of navy. Patched here and there with tiny violet flecks, his muzzle seems most afflicted with the "freckles". His colour fades just slightly to a lighter blue down his throat and to his belly, though juicy rivers of dark cobalt stream across his form, tracing the contours of his muscles. All in all he's a small little guy, and looks rather… squishy. His wings are slender and more round than usual, causing him to have to flap a lot more frequently to get any kind of lift, the more so because he has to compensate for having one withered forelimb. It must have broken or formed wrong in the shell, for it's curled up against his chest.

"Gah!" A gruff little yelp escapes H'las as the orangine hatchling flails across the distance and plops himself on his hand to devour his offering. "Holey cripes," the Igenite reiterates, looking startled for a moment until the chubby fellow makes himself at home. H'las sits back on his haunches, drawing his hand closer to his body, balancing the portly little fellow in both palms now. Sekhem, curious, swoops down to investigate this new development, growly humming and puffing out his chest as he whuffles at the near-green splotch atop the hatchling's head. Apparently there's some mote of approval in the sound of a huff. A fellow brown - this is acceptable! A tidbit of meat is stolen by a darting neck before Sekhem skitters back a few paces, licking his maw. Sudden commotion draws Hal away from inspecting the hatchling. His eyes open in surprise as he sees Diz make short work of the shell.

Squishy Blue Hatchling plops out of his shell, rolls onto his side in a tangle of wings and struggles horribly with the process of getting up onto all…. threes? Threes. He can't get up on all fours, and the buzzing of his wings is all he can do to right himself. 'Wraaaaawl!'

Diz, not expecting to be grabbed, stumbles backwards and collides with a chair. "Let go!" She doesn't seem to know whether to sound startled or angry, and has a heck of a time keeping her little hatchling tucked against her and the knife from stabbing anyone by accident as she flails for balance. "Shardit, you do not push someone with a naked blade out!" Her growl coincides with the newly dubbed Brute's frightened yowl. "Look, the little bugger is fine, he just needed some help." The knife is put away once her balance is recovered and she openly glares at Elara. "May I offer him some food, weyrwoman? I'll try not to let him choke."

Elara glares right back at Diz and then just turns away, back to the little blue. "Poor thing. That was quite the wakeup call wasn't it?" she murmurs softly to him, offering out the meat she still holds from the beginning of the hatching. She's blushing furiously, knowing that it was a mistake to push Diz. But it was also a mistake to hit an egg with the hilt of a knife! She takes a deep breath and calms herself. It wouldn't do for the little guy to have such a hard time hatching and then emerge into a storm of emotions. "Sorry," she grudgingly says aside to Diz. "It's just…you don't hit eggs…Wiyaneth'd eat you if you tried that with one of hers, and she's a -nice- gold."

Roasted Brown Hatchling has been forgotten about. Maybe this is a good thing. It means he can be the stealth mode slinky torpedo brown and get to the meat when they're all distracted with brother dearest. Slithering forward on his stout little legs, the brownling licks his maw, and darts through the shadows to try and spot some fallen meat.

"Even if it meant one of her children would live? Look at him, he couldn't have managed on his own. You can stuff any tradition that leaves babies to die." Defiant, Diz tosses her head and crouches again, reaching for a harmless handful of meat. "…as if I don't know my own knives' weight well enough to judge a hit," she's muttering to herself as she crouches down again. A piece of meat is stuffed into Brute's mouth to shut him up and the rest is allowed to dangle, tempting whatever might be lurking nearby. Blue or brown, she doesn't appear to care now that she's trying to make a point about.

Keladry has settled onto a bench now holding the chubby little firelizard in her hand. He is now just that little bit chubbier and asleep. "What shall I call you little one?" She murmurs mostly to herself before canting her head slightly, looking over the tubby little form. "Well he has the shape from the pictures..and surely should confound some people…I shall call you Duck." With that determined she smiles with satisfaction and gently scoops the little firelizard into one pocket, patting it ever so gently, "Now that should keep you warm." She looks down at the bowl with still a bit more meat in it and hmms, she raises it up a bit, "Anyone else need any, he is all eaten out?"

Elara turns to look narrowly at Diz, "I didn't say I'd leave them to die. But you help them with more delicate means than bashing them with a blade." The meat rests easily in her hand, low to the floor. "It wouldn't kill you to learn some subtelties. I'm sure you know them, actually, consitering your former profession. Use them."

Squishy Blue Hatchling mewls. Stepping and lolloping forward, his tiny little head lifts, looking between raging emotions with a strange kind of calm to him. For all he had a shakey start in life, this one seems to be remarkably peaceful for a newborn on shakey and malformed limbs. His wings buzz, and it seems almost as if he's sighing with a little huff as his tiny maw makes a rather delicate snatch at some meat. It actually happens to be from Diz's oft-times dangerous fingers that he takes it, delicately tugging to get her to let go. So, the ugly and the cripple. Don't you feel special?

Squishy Blue Hatchling looks into Diz's eyes. Impression!

Roasted Brown Hatchling banzaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaais! As Keladry lifts the bowl of scraps, the torpedo takes to flight, zooming in for the ….crash landing with the gardener's lap. 'WHEEK!' slat, clatter, covered in scraps, messy and with a bowl ontop of him, it's a bloody, meat stuffed maw that peeks out from underneath, up at her face. 'Wark.'

Roasted Brown Hatchling looks into Keladry's eyes. Impression!

Diz looks over at the weyrwoman, jaw set. She's going to be stubborn about this. "I didn't see anyone else rushing to hel— hello?" The young woman glances down as the meat is stolen from her fingers, dark eyes shuttering in a rapid blink. Oh, that's right. Babies. And look at that forelimb! "Tch, what did you do to yourself? Come here, blueberry." He's carefully lifted, transported back to that bowl of meat she'd left behind earlier. "Here, have some more…" She's not exactly flying a white flag but a temporary truce is in effect.

Elara glares and gets to her feet, tossing the meat down and walking out.

Elara moves out to the bowl.
Elara has left.

Before Keladry can offload the bowl it is suddenly dropped rather dramatically from her hand via the divebombing brown. She blinks in surprise at her now empty hand then at the bowl. As the head peaks out from the bowl, she cants her head and smiles a bit, "Well hey there.." She says with a chuckle ,"Doing alright there?" She asks as she leans down to remove the bowl from the brown. As an impression is made she blinks, "Well I alrea..alright I will find you some more meat..Little Arrow."

H'las presses his lips together tightly, cheeks puffing out faintly as he reigns in some comment immediately after Diz's protest about the dangers of unsheathed knives. He's luckily distracted by the critter lapping at his fingertips, trying to get the last traces of meat juices from skin. Hal uses a pinkie to skritch one brilliant headknob. The blue firelizard's plight gains one look of sympathy, but it's brief - seeing the cripple find a new home in Diz, he's paying attention to his newest little burden. Though surely, he'll be much better behaved than the sandy growling menace that hops up onto the table when H'las sits down, to ease the sleeping brown onto the tabletop. "I'm so bad at names," he mumbles, keeping a hand between Sekhem and nameless pumpkin there, so no inquisitive pokings can happen.

Diz hooks a chair with her foot and collapses not long after H'las does, blood-smeared and smiling rather bemusedly at the pets she's managed to aquire. "What am I going to do with two infants? Oh, they're going to despise us in the barracks, Keladry." This she says with a chuckle and a glance at the other candidate. "Do you need more meat, rider? There's plenty left here and this fellow is slowing down." She hasn't gotten a look at H'las yet, so she fails to recognize him until a chance glance earns a doubletake. "Oh. You." Cue a more lopsided smile.
Basket of eggs has left.

Keladry finds some more tidbits of meat and gets little Arrow just as well fed and sated as her Duck. She finally takes a seat on a bench to look over her two new charges, "Goodness…I had not expected this today." She looks over to Diz and grins, "Yes…I imagine they will if they are like kits, mewling away for every feeding and two each no less." She shakes her head and looks down at her pair again.

X'an has been quiet all this while. Aaaaaall the time those eggs were making thier way out and toward new owners, he kept quiet. Now though, he emerges from his shadow, looking non-plussed and somehow… dangerous. He sits at the table with Diz and H'las, looks over at Keladry and down at the ruins of the clutch's former housing, clicking fingers at one of the drudges who's name eludes him right now, and just points at it, and the scraps of meat. "Svandis…." he begins, stops, starts again with a firm look toward her. "…" nope. Words are failing.

"Yes. Me." But with a fun new knot and badge on that riding jacker of his, yes! The blonde's lips twitch faintly after his greeting, into something of a spasmodic smile. Or maybe a repressed scowl. Either way, he's attempting to conjure the illusion of being pleasant - at least for a moment, anyways. He promptly decides the continued inspection of the flit is a priority; dropping the woman's gaze, harper-blues slide away. First to the orange being on the table he brackets with his hands, then to the Weyrleader at his side. The dangerous expression is taken in, and the Wingleader merely squares his jaw. Some silent communication seamlessly occurs, without even aid of draconic relay. Silent moment passed, the blonde breaks any possible ensuing tension in the air by stretching his feet out under the table, and proceeding to peer over his shoulder at the food table. "Shards, I'm hungry too." Nice diversion tactic.

"Ever hour or two, I think. We'll have to see if they'll allow us to keep some next to our cots… I don't particularly feel like making the trek to the kitchens in this weather, every time these two have a growing pain." Diz sighs, studying the hatchling curled in each blood-speckled hand. "Brute and Bauble. You -will- learn to behave, little sirs." The babies just ignore her, bellies fat with food and tiny eyes closed in exhaustion. They've had quite the afternoon. "I believe the stew is fresh?" So much is not being said and though perceptive, Diz misses a lot of it. She favors both men with a mildly amused yet puzzled look before shrugging. Fine, she'll be pleasant.

"Actually, after their first gluttony post-hatching, usually you can leave a small bowl by where they sleep, and they'll feed themselves during the night. You might have attacks of the midnight munchies yourselves though, considering you both have two each." X'an quietly informs both candidate women, sitting still as the seven that were warbling their greetings to the newborns decend to perch around his person. Browns on one shoulder, bronzes on the other, gold in his lap, blue and green on his forearm. Whatever look was shared 'tween himself and H'las is given a slight nod, then he's sighing, resting his elbow on the table, and pinching his eyes shut with finger and thumb, rubbing the fingertips against them. "Beer broth stew… it really is good Hal. Could you…?" - bring him some and rolls, and all?

Keladry is pretty oblivious to X'an's mood as she deals with her two new flying stomachs. She slides the other sleeping one into her other breast pocket and looks down at her two new flitters for a moment before looking up at Diz, "Gonna have to, perhaps partially dried meets for night so it does not go funny and make em sick." She slowly rises as to not disturb her pair as she heads over to pour herself some hot Klah. She looks over to X'an and laughs softly, "Already have those, so should be ok. Now I have an excuse and perhaps I won't have to sneak in the kitchens."

"Make sure Sekhem doesn't eat the orange guy alive, eh?" H'las gives Sekhem an admonishing look before he removes his hands from the hatchling's sides, rising from the bench. Diz's amused and puzzled look gains a mild smile from the brownrider before he turns, and putters for the food table. Hands go into the back pockets of his denim trous as he walks - is he calling attention to that pert butt exposed by chaps, or warding away glances? Likely he's just holding his hands in his arse pockets. "You want the works, X'an?" He asks, scooping up a bowl and bracing to ladle himself out a good portion, meanwhile visually picking over Fort's offerings.

"Ugh, eating and then sleeping after is a sure way to end up with a sour stomach. I'll suffer, thank you. If they eat this quickly and fall asleep this quickly, it should be fine." Diz transfers both dozing balls of hide and wings to one arm, reaching with her freed hand for a pocket containing a hankie. It's dipped in the nearest glass of water— thankfully left by someone, rather than belonging to someone wanting to drink it— and dabbed against mucky spots left on her bodice and shirt. "I wonder if any of the beastcrafters specialize in firelizards and can have a look at Bauble's leg…"

Iniroc wanders into the living cavern, from the north bowl.
Iniroc has arrived.

Iniroc arrives from the lower caverns, a large white bolt of cloth held loosely in his grip. Lita, his ever-growing firelizard, flies erratically as she bats and claws at the train of fabric that trails behind him. Clearly, it shan't remain pristine for long in the hands (and talons) of these two.

"Yes, please. The works. Only I only need the one bread roll, thankyou." X'an calls toward H'las, dropping his eye-pinching stance to watch the man's back. If he looks longer than is strictly necessary 'tis naught but coincidence, particularly as Bonejack, the smaller of his bronzes, hops onto the table to intervene his body 'tween Sekhem and the sleeping pumpkin ball. "Do you ever wonder what it is you're doing? I do. Frequently." he muses, bedecked with firelizards as he is (6 no less) he pets the seventh he calls his own between his tiddly headknobs. "Just make sure you don't grow a mould entity like Iniroc. Honestly… Clyde indeed.." headshake. "He'll give himself some kind of nasty by eating from that bowl of his. Uch." neat shudder. "Maybe you can get something done with his limb though, Diz. Although it looks very… withered."

Keladry drops gently back down on a bench near the others with her mug of Klah. She looks back down at her chest, two little bumps indicating her new little firelizards. Occasionally one or the other starts squirming giving a rather odd appearance to Kel's chest. She looks over to the riders, "So is this what its like being a rider? It was like for a moment I had little voices in my head, like this buzz in the back of my mind."

Diz is seated at the same table as X'an, dappled with blood, a bowl of souring meat at her feet. Held against her torso with a forearm are not one, but two tiny curled forms— one ugly brown, one navy blue. She's in the process of trying to turn the snoozing blue over to have a look at the forelimb being discussed. "It did, didn't it?" For once, something very much like concern flickers over the woman's face. "Bloody gas… I hope he's decent at flying." She's doing a very good job at ignoring (aka not glowering at) all of the looking and inviting of looks being carried out between the two riders.

H'las the waitress returns with one big bowl of soup, two spoons in it, and three rolls. He's chewing a slice of roast wherry he snagged from the tables, lips smacking as he goes. Is he an open-mouth chewer? For the moment, yes. That is, until he settles down next to X'an and wiggles himself closer to the table upon the seat, and swallows the morsel entirely. "Here you go. We can share. I didn't feel like trying to balance two bowls." Thumbs dig into the roll, breaking it apart with a shower of crust and breadfluff onto the table top. He dips the roll into the soup, whilst seeing fit to poke the Weyrleader's side playfully and repetitively with his elbow. "You need to help me name this one. Else I'll end up naming it Tubby Orange Bugger."

The little green tailing Roc espies distant cousinsbaby ones at that! With a chirp-squeal, she dives up and over her companion's tall shoulder (which startles the man out of his cloth-wrangling momentarily) to scrabble along a tabletop to and fro. Trying, and failing, to get a single good look at any one hatchling. "Come now, gal, don't fuss so muchwhat's the matter?" Roc never fails to be the last to catch on. He yanks his blanket of white and twirls, letting the fabric twist around one arm. "Hey folks."

"Ooof, hey, aim a bit higher, you might get all my ribs that way…" X'an murmurs as H'las returns to his seat, elbowing right back with a boffle against the igenite's elbow. Y'know X'an though, it's just the perfect angle to give him a numb arm. "AUGH! Funny bone!" and dead arm. Sigh. He takes a roll to his other hand, observing the tiddly pumpkin fella, and the various others, watching Iniroc's green zooming back and forth, Diz's concerns over her own little cripple, and nods vaguely at Keladry. "Only more so. Firelizards communicate with sensation and very simple images. Dragons communicate with speech. My bronzes are fairly intelligent.. the rest can just give vague.. blobby images in my mind." he replies.

The tiny blue, dubbed Bauble, burbles a complaint as he's rolled over to be inspected. Diz ignores the sleepy protest, poking and prodding at the little withered limb tucked to his chest. The depth of her frown increases, only aggrevated by the green's hyper arrival. "I will swat her if she jostles me," she warns, glancing up to spear Iniroc with a dark blue look. "He isn't well and the last thing he needs is some overactive twit of a green scrambling all over him." It was kind of Roc to provide further distraction from the riders, eh?

H'las splutters out a laugh as X'an manages to skillfully injure himself. It's a fond little noise, accompanied by a pat to the Bitran's back. "Do you need me to spoon-feed you this soup? Think you'll manage without..tripping and falling into a bush?" He teases, stuffing a stewsoaked gob of bread into his mouth soonafter. Chew, chew, slurp. The zooming green gains a wary glance upwards, whilst brown Sekhem rears onto his haunches and makes a grating noise at her. "Oh, shush," H'las hisses. The orange firelizard is woken by the commotion, and creels faintly as he curls his tubby body up, seeking to block out the sound of comings and goings by tossing a wing over his face. "Mmph. X'an, I think I'm going to go get this poor guy settled. I brought some spreadsheets I need to look at on the computer, anyways." Hal rises, and in a stooped position quickly shoves a dozen spoonfuls of soup in his mouth, grabbing a dribble down his chin with a fingertip, wiping that on the bottom of his shirt. The remnant of his one roll is held in his teeth, and the other earns a special place tucked into the inside pocket of his flight jacket. Hands thus free, he gathers up the sleeping firelizard carefully.

Oh yes, and we all know how well a scathing reproach works on the likes of Roc. The man's chest puffs out defensively, his nose turns up. "She's just excited, and she can't even make up her mind as to what she wants to look at first, let alone decide to crawl all over /you/… Trust me, she knows better than to get that close." Lita squeals and scurries back towards her friend before she scolds Diz (from very afar) with a series of chitters. "Poor gal thinks you're more likely to eat her, and them for that matter, than swat her." The cloth is deposited upon the table and Roc leans across it to get a good gander at the collection of hatchlings.

Beside the crippled blue, in Diz's arm, is a very lumpy spud-like brown who can't be bothered to stir from his meat coma. She's as growly and protective of him as his brother, and sends a look at the green that's as fierce as the chitters being directed back at her. "I just may, if she proves she can't behave," the woman says, almost primly. "Here, look." A bit more sympathetic to the human half of that pair, she turns to let Iniroc get a better look at the brown'n'blue pair. "You'll have to pardon Brute for being so ugly. As near as we can tell, the gas seep affected the entire clutch. I had to break Bauble out myself."

X'an tilts his head, watching H'las rise, he nods faintly to the blond. "See you back upstairs later then, love." Love? Love. "After I've eaten." which he sets to doing, eating somewhat demurely as he gets to listen to the bickering between candidates with something of a glower going on. "CHILDREN." he snaps. "Please, if you can't stick it where the sun don't shine, I'm going to explode again, and I really, really don't want to do that." between gritted teeth. "I don't want to have to apologize again. Behave yourselves and do it with a modicum of /decorum/."

Iniroc sniffs with as near as much prim as Diz herself musters. His green copies the nonchalance by settling herself on his shoulder and grooming her foretalons carelessly. We sure told /her/, yeah! X'an's warning does encourage a little more diplomacy from the man and he makes a show of sympathy for the hatchlings. After all, they're innocent bystanders in this. "That's a damn shame," Roc concedes, a faint moue forming on his face. "But the blue should be able to fly, don't y'all think? Wings look fine for a start, maybe the balance'll be difficult but they're adaptable creatures." Suddenly, he's Iniroc: Firelizard Expert.

Diz's glance for X'an is nothing less than disapproving. What? They weren't yelling at each other. Honestly, some people just don't understand personal dynamics. "Explode again? Really, I've missed so much lately. You're not allowed to yell at me, X'an, it's my turnday." With that, she carefully rises, balancing the babies still between arm and torso. "I think he's capable of flying, yes. I suppose we'll see once he's awake… I'm thinking of finding a beastcrafter who can maybe tell me more, so if you happen to know of any, Rock, do please send them my way. Now if you all will excuse me, I need to go find a supply of oil." She gives them all a breezy nod and swans off towards the bowl.