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Post by puppetmaster on Jul 10, 2011 22:06:03 GMT -5
Well, she certainly had everyone's attention. Yet the Stuff and Nonsense Hatchling didn't seem particularly happy with her crowd of watchers. The screaming stopped as abruptly as it'd begun and the unsightly green stretched, her gaze never leaving the candidates. Then, all at once, she broke into a sprint. She was still a clumsy, goo covered creature. It wasn't a very fast run she managed. But she managed it, galloping awkwardly toward the line of candidates and shouldering through, to where the guards were keeping an eye on events. She squirmed through, until she reached Kaskirk. Who she ran into, head first, in one barreling motion. Not even stopping to see what that'd done to the poor hungover guard, she returned her attention to the candidates. Except, to watch her, they'd have to take their eyes off the sands. Which might not be such a good idea. Because the Crashing Waves Egg had just split open. A drowsy looking blue now sat among the shells. The Silent Philosopher Hatchling lay down right where he was, eyeing the candidates from afar. But the Stuff and Nonsense Hatchling wasn't done. She butted a few more candidates not wise enough to turn and watch her. Then, with an exuberant trumpet, she did her best to tackle a certain dragonrider's daughter. Oh, 'misi! Did you see them? They didn't know what to make of your Bakuth, did they? How interesting. What else do you think I can make them do? Bakuth was quiet a moment, perhaps considering some other mischief. But, perhaps not. Because, what she said was, I want to eat, first. We can think about them later.Name: Bakuth Art Type: Surrealism (Yes, from an Expressionist egg. It is her first surrealist act.) Hex Code: 667711Appearance:Bakuth, well, Bakuth is not a pretty girl. She doesn't seem quite proportionate. Her wings are huge, her body, relatively slight. Her eyes are a bit unusually large, or at least, give the appearance of being unusually large. Really, looking at her, she's not really much odder than any of her siblings. Yet she manages to somehow feel off, none-the-less. She's an excellent in flight for what it's worth. Not particularly strong but with stamina to spare. Her hide is mottled, mingling a few different shades of unsettling and poorly paired greens. Some patches are almost yellowish, while others are nearly brownish. They fade into each other, melting together in strange ways. It'd be good camouflage, except none of the colors really appear particularly natural. Personality:Do dragons dream of impressible sheep? Bakuth knows and she wants to tell you. Eccentric might be the most gentle term used to describe this particular dragon. Facsinated as she is by the workings of the mind, particularly her own dreams, Bakuth can often seem a little off to those unaccustomed to her. She likes to ask nonsensical questions and unanswerable riddles. She's equally prone to acting in deliberately strange ways, particularly those that'll make others uncomfortable. She might chat up the herdbeasts before she hunts them or befriend the less savory of the prisoners, just to get a rise out of people. Yet Bakuth's inane behavior isn't meaningless. She truly wishes to make people think. By bringing people out of their comfort zone, she hopes to bring them closer to their true natures, the dark whispering id that most tend to drown out with relentless drone of day-to-day life. Or, as she might put it, she wants to meet the 'real' person hidden beneath those civilized exterior. And perhaps this explains why Bakuth is so fascinated by the outlaws. It's not that she's on their side, exactly. But those who've acted against society in such a way seem to know something about themselves that normal people and dragons don't. She wants to know what they know, and she wants to meet the dragons that might choose such people. Bakuth can not help but conflict with authority figures. They, more than anyone else, represent the repressive weight of social conformity. She's quick as a whip and far from lazy but she'll still have a difficult time in classes and formation. Oh, she knows what she's supposed to do. And she won't refuse outright. But if the opportunity to make some bizarre scene presents itself, she'll take it. If her rider doesn't learn to rein her in, they may find themselves on punishment detail more often than anyone could possibly enjoy. Despite her quirks, or perhaps because of them, Bakuth is as devoted to her rider as any dragon can be. Beneath the odd quips and strange actions, Bakuth is a dreamer. She's full of ideas, buzzing with inspirations and possibilities that pour out of her as wildness. And that leaves her in desperate need of a place where she can find peace to recharge and simply think. Her rider and her weyr will always represent this for her. And while she may occasionally push her rider into uncomfortable situations, she'll never deliberately do them harm. She too desperately depends on the steadying influence of her bond to them. In the end, it could be said that Bakuth's rider is the only thing she knows is 100% real. Why Me?Amisi's age was a big deciding factor for Bakuth. In her mind, the older people get, the more set in their ways they become. Amisi is young, still learning, still experiencing things for the first time. She's not afraid to think, to expand her mind to new ideas. Bakuth needed a rider who was curious, and unafraid of ridicule, both traits strong in Amisi. In turn, Bakuth offers an entirely new perspective on the world, a way of understanding and thinking about things new to Amisi. She might get the girl in a bit of trouble, but they're sure to experience things others haven't even thought of.
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Cansi
Drudge
you know you're in love when you can't fall asleep 'cause reality is finally better than your dreams
Posts: 71
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Post by Cansi on Jul 10, 2011 22:36:53 GMT -5
Ralvyn's whispered inquiry had gone unnoticed, what with the roar of blood throbbing in Tekaine's ears as he sat there. It was not an intentional slight; he just honestly didn't hear it. If he had, he might have made an effort to stand sooner than was probably wise. The nearness of the Wildflower Hatchling in all its tiny prettiness made Tekaine perk up a bit, though. He watched the purple's antics with an almost bland expression- much improved from the former nauseous frown. Any other time, he would have been smiling- especially once the bemused fellow was deposited in front of an egg and left there.
Tekaine took a deep breath and heaved himself to his feet, since he had then been unable to see where the little purple had gone. By the time his eyes tracked her again, she was in the arms of a guard. Good! Good for her! It was just the sort of thing he had needed to see, something sufficiently distracting to take his mind off his insurmountable guilt.
There'd be plenty of time for that later.
He tried to split his attention between the candidate by the Howling Moon egg and the newly-Impressed atypical, but trying to glance back and forth set his head spinning again and he had to briefly press his palms hard into his eyes. The pressure was such a relief that he left them there for a long moment, until the yell sounded out. He hesitated, then regretfully, put his hands down to his sides. The frown returned as he squinted out toward the guy chipping away at the egg. The lack of negative reaction from the dragons around had to mean he was doing the right thing.
And so he was. A white came out of that egg. Rumors said those rare whites always needed to have help hatching, but Tekaine had always dismissed that as blown out of proportion. Clearly it was at least partly true. And then, the second Impression, right there as he watched. So that's what they meant by rainbows. They weren't really like rainbows, in the sense of a colorful arch, but rather the myriad hues a dragon's eye could be swirled together brilliantly, even to an observer not-so-close-by.
Shard it. Tekaine was in the middle of realizing he probably wouldn't get to congratulate any of the people to Impress. They'd be too busy, he wouldn't be allowed near, and there would probably be plenty of others quick to offer pleasantries. Better sit down again, he thought, almost crossly. No sooner did he think it than another egg released the Stuff and Nonsense green. Her hide, oh Faranth, her hide. Something must have gone wrong in the egg. He almost felt sorry for the unattractive little thing, but at least she seemed healthy.
She started wailing, and it struck something in Tekaine's eardrums just the wrong way. He took a few rapid steps back, not even registering the fact that his head was being freaking stabbed by the shrill noise, because there it was, a thin stream of vile vomit, all bile and saliva, spurting from his mouth to splutter onto the sand. At least he was back away from others and wouldn't get it on anyone. Small comfort as his stomach heaved and threw a fit like it was connected directly to his ears, rather than separated by several solid inches of flesh. It was over with soon; having not eaten anything for breakfast, there wasn't much to come up.
Too bad the noise couldn't have stopped when the dry-heaving did. No, it was long moments later. Abruptly the green was dashing toward someone, someone Tekaine couldn't see from where he was. Hopefully the green had found her person, someone who might just be able to keep her from making such an awful racket again soon. He wanted to see- But... the mess. He couldn't just leave it there for someone to step in.
He curled his lip grumpily down at the little wet spots, already drying, as he wiped his mouth with a sleeve. Then glared at the red-lined white robe. Great; he'd probably have to wash that. Maybe it wouldn't matter. Blargh. With a toe, and his balance wavering, he scooted dry sand on top of the puke sprinkles, heaping it up so he would know where it had happened. Now to go find a bucket or something to scoop it out with. Even covered, he really didn't want to walk away from it, but Tekaine did. He walked as quickly as he dared with his stomach fussing and his weight distributing awkwardly with each step, making for the nearest guard. When he was within speaking distance, he halted, hands half-held in front of him to show he wasn't trying to make trouble, and blurted in a rush, "I kind of threw up over there. Could I have a bucket and a shovel, or something, to clean it with?"
((Leaving open-ended, in case the nearest guard happens to be a PC. If not I'll work around it...))
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Post by giftwrapped on Jul 10, 2011 22:53:04 GMT -5
....When the white flopped out, La stopped thinking. There was just blank emptiness in the woman's head as she stared. And when her boy's newly-produced white started breathing again, La let up the loudest whoop of the bunch. Ralvyn! A white dragon! Faranth, her Ralvyn had gotten the best of the best! He had done better than she could ever have imagined! And if it wasn't a baby of Kith's, well, what did it matter? He was Impressed and to an atypical who was singularly wonderful, she had already decided.
You sound like a new-Impressed Candidate. Or maybe a new mother, Kith remarked with amusement, but anything La might have said in response got lost when a green hatched and began to shriek. La winced, and Kith tilted his head, regarding the dragonet - his daughter - with mild interest. Well. You don't see that every day, he said thoughtfully. But at least she has healthy lungs! He was quite glad of that, that much was certain, and La laughed in spite of herself.
"One fewer to worry about, then," she answered, and whatever else she might have said was lost as the green tackled hers to the ground. "And I'll leave you alone to go tell that boy of mine congratulations, I think."
Enjoy, broodmother Lanakirene.
"Shard off, Kith."
And La was off, mincing through eggs to pick up her bag and forgotten tools (she didn't blame Ral; arms full of dragonet was vastly superior to arms full of healer's bag. And La needed the bag back anyway, so she hoisted it over her shoulder, dodged out of the clutch, and headed to the outskirts, to best avoid any dragonets who broke shell and went after the Candidates. She had faith in this clutch being fairly nonbitey, but babies were babies, and La wasn't stupid.
She would have made a beeline for the table and L'vey and the few new Weyrlings, but she caught a voice that made her frown. Zeroing in on it, the Healer grasped Tekaine firmly by the shoulders. "If you're vomiting you're in no state to Stand, boy. Let's get you off where you can sit down. We'll get you seated right off the Sands and you can wait it out." While the mild cheer never left her voice, there was a Healer's edge of strong seriousness there, the voice of a woman who knew precisely what she was talking about. Dragonhealer or no, La was trained at Healer Hall. Sick folk on the Sands was just a recipe for heatstroke and mauling.
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Cansi
Drudge
you know you're in love when you can't fall asleep 'cause reality is finally better than your dreams
Posts: 71
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Post by Cansi on Jul 10, 2011 23:07:17 GMT -5
Tekaine started to nod gratefully, but stopped the motion immediately as his innards protested loudly. Dratted green. It was the noise that had aggravated his condition, he was sure of it! He settled for a weak "Yes, please." He let himself be escorted off without hesitation, though his steps were still a bit uncertain. "I was okay earlier," he mumbled. Then had to amend the statement, to correct it. "Sort of..."
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Post by lithle on Jul 10, 2011 23:08:17 GMT -5
Those are ours, Kith. Semith crooned at Kith, as first a green, then a blue hatched from their clutch. Our babies. Are they making people happy? Leshta promised they would.
She watched eagerly as the little green impressed, seeming unconcerned by both the baby's ugliness and her rather distressing behavior. All she cared was that the baby had impressed. And the blue, well, he was sleeping. But that was okay.
Oh, but look else had come! Look, Merceth. A blue like Kith! And Iiateth's baby was tiny and purple, did you see? I've never had a purple baby. Do you think I will have purple babies?
She was so eager, so desperate to be joyful, that her voice was even brighter, more fluting, than was her usual.
Leshta, meanwhile, felt as if she was waking from a deep sleep, heavily colored by nightmares. She was so very reliant on her lifemate's joy and here it was, even as the hatching sands revealed new distressing developments.
A purple? A white? Neither of Semith's clutch and that was almost comforting! Not her weird babies this time.
She offered Gwynell a brief, but not insincere smile, then watched La as she left the company of the clutchparents for a second time. Heh. No sense of decorum, that woman. How like her. She was grinning, but caught herself. A more severe, less pleased expression settled on her face. There was still much in the world to worry over.
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Post by giftwrapped on Jul 10, 2011 23:13:44 GMT -5
"...Sort of."
"I see."
La's expression was dark as she looked at the young man. "I want you off the Sands but I doubt you'd do that even if I ordered you." She knew Candidates. This type, in particular. Some idiot decided that he was perfectly healthy to stand because he needed a dragon desperately and couldn't sharding wait (and Faranth, it wasn't common but La had heard stories about sharding dragonets wandering into the Barracks or the Infirmary to find Theirs and there had been the thing with Passith - it wasn't like a sick Candidate would miss out if their dragon knew they were somewhere) and refused to acknowledge the fact that he felt like a wher's tailfork and should be lying down.
And this one was a prisoner. La was never angry and rarely harsh, but sometimes if she needed to, she'd be blunt. This, as far as she was concerned, was one of those times. "So you have two options. You're a prisoner. Get a guard to take you to the Infirmary, or sit your ass down on the edge of the Sands where one can keep an eye on you. There are other Healers and they can deal with you and get you water. I'm a dragonhealer, not a babysitter."
Faranth, there was always someone. Always.
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Post by tuathade on Jul 10, 2011 23:38:57 GMT -5
C’ross obligingly ignored the “sexy beast” comment, giving Siata only a playful punch on the arm in return. The hitting-on didn’t bother him as much now that both were clear that she didn’t mean it; it was just something she did. He watched the progress of the purple with interest as she dragged a boy around, then ran off to find her rider.
“I’m… pretty sure that’s the master dragonhealer’s boy.” C’ross couldn’t remember his name at the moment, but he’d gotten to know the healer rather well during the period when Merceth had been under her care. “And no, I don’t remember any purples last time around…”
The apprentice managed to Impress, to a white no less. C’ross clapped politely, but frowned nonetheless. He was going to have his hands full with the little sport, most likely. Lucky he already had some dragonhealer training; the new weyrling was going to need it. At least the green that followed was healthy, although C’ross winced and cursed at the sharding SCREAMING. “I’ve seen hatchlings throw tantrums before, but that’s a new one.” She Impressed quickly enough, and broke open her blue brother’s egg in the process. So that was a purple and a white from the opal clutch, and a blue and a green from the gold clutch. About as expected.
…wait, had Siata just blown a kiss to one of the Candidates?
There had been an ominous rumble to Merceth’s hum when the boy had taken mallet and chisel to the egg, but it quieted when the white stumbled to his feet. It turned into a joyous croon when the gold spoke to him. A blue, yes! I see him, Semith, and his green sister too. Maybe purples are what opals make, like golds make blues and greens?
---
Meanwhile, Ral (R’vyn? He was R’vyn now, oh Faranth, he was never going to remember that) was wishing he had the telekinetic abilities of dragons. He had both arms wrapped around Dexeth, who was quite small for a baby dragon, but still larger than the purple who’d pulled him around. R’vyn, not known for either his size or his prodigious quantity of upper body strength, could carry the dragon fairly easily with two hands, but one would be pushing it. Setting Dexeth down was not an option; the frail little hatchling was pressed trembling against his chest and R’vyn didn’t want to put any more strain on the white’s unsteady limbs. And then there was the addition of a bucket of meat that a drudge was attempting to hand him.
“…This is a puzzle.”
He juggled dragon and bucket awkwardly for a little while before settling on a solution: he sat down on the sand with Dexeth curled up in his lap, one arm around the dragon and the bucket sitting next to him. The new weyrling picked through the meat scraps for only the small, easy-to-swallow ones; he wouldn’t want to risk his new partner choking.
When he looked up, there was La with the bag (oh right, he’d forgotten that in his rush) leading the sick Candidate off to one side. Poor man, but it really would be better for him not to be in the way if one of the babies did turn aggressive. Unlikely with this clutch, but it was always a possibility at any Hatching, no matter how happy.
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Inkwell
Drudge
deal with it, europa
Posts: 95
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Post by Inkwell on Jul 10, 2011 23:56:24 GMT -5
Finally, the green quieted down. Orren relaxed with relief. He hadn't covered his ears, in order to listen should Senar have anything to say to him over the green's screaming, but there hadn't really been much else to listen to except for Tekaine's quiet retching, which wasn't exactly all that pleasant.
"So, she's stopped, obviously, and, um, looks like she's going for the -- oh jeez she just jumped on some guy but he looks okay, I think, alright, now she's... oh, okay, she's just impressed to a little girl. So that's good, I guess. Maybe that means she won't be doing any more yelling."
He looked back at the sands, taking stock of the other eggs. Had any hatched? There didn't seem to be much movement beyond the general exuberant rocking. So, no babies.
"I don't think any more babies have... wait a second, there's shards all over over there, but I don't... Oh. Haha. Um." He chuckled. "There's a blue over there but I think he's asleep. So things are going to be quiet for the next couple of minutes, at any rate. Also don't step to your left, there's puke in the sand. Looks like you're not the only one feeling kind of under the weather. Must be a thing today."
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Post by Spiffy on Jul 11, 2011 10:51:54 GMT -5
Kitath snorted when Lostris all but ignored her. She had a slightly strange expression on her face, Lostris's version of surprise, But did not say anything. Lostris was not her rider, so the woman's thoughts meant nothing to the green. But she knew the guard was stubborn enough to ignore her and stay where she was, and though even Kitath was not enough of a sourpuss to keep someone away from a hatching, the most joyous of occasions, she had no qualms of restraining the woman with a blue-sized paw if she got it in her head to try something stupid.
Sh'lon, on the other hand, responded excitedly to the enthusiastic response from his friend. "That's great! And yeah Kitath is fine too, though she's been a bit cut up about... you know, recent events," he finished with a frown.
But he was quickly distracted from his melancholy (good ol' Shea, never stats sad for long) by the hatching and subsequent antics of the purple. Purple! Amazing, more new colours! He was right in his thinking that stranger things would come from the clutch who's parents were atypical themselves. But she was so adorable, how she pulled the healer kid (yes that was Ralvyn)! If it were possible to melt from overload of cuteness, and then when she lept at her rider, he would have done so on the spot.
But that was impossible, so he just clung to T'di's arm as the bluerider clung to his.
"No, she didn't. I think she was more concerned with keeping me in one place than dragging me anywhere..."
He almost did melt when the white was revealed and impressed to Ral. Adorable overload.
This was totally ruined by the appearance and subsequent screaming of the green. Initially he was happy. A green! His Kitath was A green too! But at the aweful noise he yelled in surprise, taken completely off balance and flailed wildly for something to steady himself with before he fell over.
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Cansi
Drudge
you know you're in love when you can't fall asleep 'cause reality is finally better than your dreams
Posts: 71
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Post by Cansi on Jul 11, 2011 11:02:01 GMT -5
((Saving post. Conveniently forgot I already posted twice since the last admin post.))
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firebird
Crafter
Original design by Mikki
Posts: 126
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Post by firebird on Jul 11, 2011 12:12:02 GMT -5
During the entire time the green had been screaming, Senar had been letting out a long, high-pitched whine as his head seemingly exploded with pain. It wasn't loud enough to be heard over the dragon, though. Why, oh why was the dragon screeching like that?
Then it stopped, though the pain in his head remained with only a slight lessening. The green had Impressed? "She wasn't hurt, then? That's good," Senar said to Orren. He was tempted to take a peek, but the throbbing said that would be a bad idea. "And a sleeping blue? I guess he's tired from the effort of hatching. It sounds like an exhausting process." Keep talking. It will distract you from the pain.
Wait, puke? "Eurgh. Someone was on the sands while sick?" Why are you so surprised, Senar? You went down here without even being able to see properly.
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Inkwell
Drudge
deal with it, europa
Posts: 95
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Post by Inkwell on Jul 11, 2011 13:50:26 GMT -5
"Yeah, I imagine hatching is pretty tiring. I mean, dragon hatching especially, what with how hard their shells get. And you're in a little bitty space and can't really move or stretch your muscles and there's not much leverage, either, so imagine how frustrating it must be." He did, indeed, imagine it. It didn't seem all that appealing.
"And yeah, I guess he didn't want to miss it. I know if I was sick I'd still be here. It's not every day you stand for a hatching, you know? I mean, look at you, you can't even see and you're here still. Though you don't seem nauseous to me. Are you? Because if you feel like you're going to throw up do it not in my direction. I mean, if that's possible. I guess when you get the urge to throw up there's no stopping it." He paused for a moment and shivered. "Anyway, just... try not to. We don't want you escorted off the sands like that other guy, without even Impressing. Though I don't think he's going far, His could probably still... but anyway that's not the point. Your dragon is in those eggs somewhere and even if you don't see it hatch, you have to be here for it, right?"
He really was trying to cheer Senar up. Whether his babbling was actually having that effect or not... who knew. It was certainly helping prevent him from getting nervous, at any rate: talking was the best way to take his mind off of something when there wasn't dough readily available to knead or eggs to beat. He just hoped he wasn't disturbing anyone; he'd seen Serdek sidle a little closer not too long ago, and was almost worried she was going to tell him to stop. Was this sort of thing too solemn a ceremony to talk during? He wasn't sure. What with how crazy things had been lately, he didn't think the usual rules really applied all that strongly. But then, he was raised on country manners, so what would he know.
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Post by Evadne on Jul 11, 2011 16:20:44 GMT -5
When the screaming ended, it became easier to decipher what was occurring on the sands. The green appeared to have been messing with them.
Lostris did not approve.
The guard exhaled slowly through her nostrils. It was not a remarkably dissimilar reaction from Kitath's. Maybe that's why she and the green got along so well, beyond their mutual adoration of Sh'lon.
"It was a test," Lostris said to Kaskirk. She tilted a look at the other guard, sizing up his posture and the expression on his face. What she saw didn't look good but she mustered a faint smile that attempted to be reassuring. "You pass. At ease," she added. Get the humor? Lostris is so funny! Ha. Ha. No, really, that was a joke.
She performed a last scan of the sands and then, certain that the Powers That Be had things well in hand, she shuffled back around to resume eyeballing the distant treeline.
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Post by nozomi on Jul 11, 2011 18:31:08 GMT -5
"She thinks I'm charming." Siata grinned to her bronzerider companion when she saw the last parts of the glance when she'd thrown Serdek that kiss. Hey, the prisoner-Candidate almost-smiled, didn't she? If she hadn't gotten anything more then a tilted head with a Look, and then an almost smile, it meant she hadn't pissed off the stonecrafter overmuch. Probably. Whatever - if Serdek Impressed, the woman was going to get a hug, grumpiness be damned. "Probably. Serdek's weird like that-- Ooooh! The green Impressed. Badass."
Siata squinted back to the sands, to see if there were any more wriggling... Alas. Nothing yet. So, what'd she do? The obvious thing of course - punched C'ross back in the arm with a playful air, a grin on her lips, and asked, "How's the other half? Siatask misses him. She pines. Also, your Merceth is a great bodyguard."
------
Sh'lon clung and was adorable. T'di laughed and - yelped as well when the green started to shriek and cause a ruckus. The greenrider caused a good distraction, though, in his flailing, and it meant T'di snatched him up like a proper friend. He smiled at the other man, making sure he was stable before releasing him again.
"Good one! But she's stopped now, see? You okay? Don't want you all... puking like that kid over there..." T'di leaned over a bit, peering over to Tekaine. "Is someone sick allowed to Stand? Broken limbs I get, they just can't jump away as fast, but... he's barfing. Shouldn't we take him off the sands?"
A pause, a blink. And then he fluffed at Sh'lon's hair. Mainly because he could. "So two new colors, and two tried and true colors. It looks good so far, eh?"
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Post by puppetmaster on Jul 11, 2011 19:12:14 GMT -5
The Silent Philosopher Hatchling seemed in no great hurry to move. He remained where he was, stretched out among the egg shells that had so recently contained him, his eyes whirling mildly. He wasn't sleeping, though. He was clearly studying the gathered candidates.
At least, he was until the Images by Firelight egg managed to roll itself over right onto his tail. That had him up with a start, turning to glare at the offending egg. But the egg was gone. In its place was a slightly startled looking dragon of dark gray.
The Primitive Hatchling stared at the Silent Philosopher Hatchling who stared right back at them. It seemed to be a stalemate. A fight in the works?
The Primitive Hatchling lunged forward without any warning. The blue stood his ground, not cowering, and so it was that he was completely unprepared to flee when the gray rubbed his head against him in gentle affection. The two dragons cuddled like that for a moment, though most the cuddling was on the gray's part, the Silent Philosopher Hatchling just allowing it to happen.
Cuddle-fest over, the Primitive Hatchling nudged his clutchmate firmly, starting him on the path toward the candidates. That seemed to be all the encouragement the Silent Philosopher Hatchling needed. Or maybe he just wanted to escape more cuddles.
He made his way slowly along the line of potentials, stopping to stare at each. He gave Senar a little nudge, as if curious about the pale man with the closed eyes. From there, he churred at Orren cheerfully, and continued on his way.
He circled the entire line of candidates twice, began on a third examination, then finally stopped before one in particular. His eyes were bright with rainbow. Impression was made.
The gray, meanwhile, began to examine not the candidates, but the eggs. He nudged gently at each in turn, waiting for a answering shake.
(Silent Philosopher to NPC)
Name: Uyoth
Art Type:Ukiyo-e
Appearance: He's blue
Personality:
To an outside observer, Uyoth may appear lazy. After all, while his more gung-ho siblings are up in the air training, he's likely to be found stretched out, watching the ocean or staring fixedly at a flower petal. The outside observer would be wrong. Uyoth isn't lazy. He is, however, a dragon who never acts without considering the whole of what he's doing and why he's doing it. He's a philosopher and he's almost impossible to move until he's probed a question from every possible angle.
Why? That's a question his rider better be prepared to answer a lot. Uyoth doesn't ask it as a child might his questions are never frivolous or playful. At least, they aren't to him, though everyone else might think so. But the questions are genuine. Why are cookies better than potatoes? What elevates the cookie? What makes the potato so lowly? Is it an innate superiority, or a superiority that exists only in the eyes of those making the judgement? Why is there a prison? What makes one action illegal while another is allowable? Who are they to pass judgement on others? What's the nature of good? Yes, Uyoth's rider better be ready for a lot of long conversations.
It shouldn't be surprising that, with all the questions that sizzle in his mind, Uyoth is an extremely social dragon. Knowledge doesn't grow in a vacuum and the blue's approach to learning is often Socratic. Which is to say, he's prone to arguing to an obnoxious extent. He doesn't mean anything by it and he never gets offended or aggressive, but Uyoth is a natural devil's advocate who'll often take a side against himself just to better understand how he feels about something.
Because Uyoth is such a thinker, his decisions count for a lot. He makes few but those few are ironclad. After all, he's examined them from every angle, weighed every possibility. You can bet he knows what he's talking about when he says one course of action is better than another. His rider, in particular, means a lot to him. After all, he chose the best possible rider for him out of every person available. He even allows their words to carry more weight and, for that reason, his rider stands to bias his philosophies more than he likes to admit. Which isn't to say that Uyoth won't expect them to muster up a good argument in the process of convincing him.
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