Hatch Or Die [Outlaw Flower and Art Clutches]

[lithle]

Roni was starting to get heavy in Myr's arms. Even though the girl was small for her apparent age, she wasn't of a size comfortable to carry for long. Even so, with some strange outlaw climbing up near herself and Jadore, she certainly wasn't going to put the child down. Instead, she shifted the young girl to her opposite side away from the freak.

It was then that the purple hatched. Myr gasped, quietly. Mind, she'd never seen a pink before either, and only the yellow that was among their own people. But she'd heard about all the new colors and none of them had been tiny purples.

"Sweetling, look," she whispered, twisting Roni so that the child could see the little purple, still trapped in its egg.

"Oh!" The girls tears had begun to dry and she stared in rapt attention at the hatchling. "Auntie Myr, I want that one!"

Myr stroked the little girl's hair and smiled. "Maybe, when you're older. If you're good."

[Cansi]

Now wasn't that cute... a purple dragon. Oh, he'd seen blues with hides bordering on purple, but he was fairly sure dragon hatchlings were supposed to be bigger than that. Why, it didn't look to be much bigger than Squall. Alezri's eyes softened slightly, before he looked away from the adorable little thing, licking his lips to remove the last traces of blood. Mustn't let on to any more weaknesses than he'd already exhibited. Because, if anyone had been paying attention at any point since the breakout (or even before) they'd know how he felt toward the scrappy flitter, and most likely strike there first. Throw him off balance mentally before striking physically.

It's what he would do, if he were that sort of person.

He looked toward the egg he had deposited here what seemed like such a long time ago. The Call to Action egg was far enough across the way that he couldn't see if it was even moving. It had been so vibrant at first; he wasn't sure what he'd do if it turned out dead.

See if it tasted better than raw wherry, maybe. (Yuck.)

[Evadne]

This was a momentous occasion. A successful hatching of purloined eggs, to those who'd defied Pernese authority and gotten away with it. Two Impressions so far and now another hatchling on the sands (dirt); no matter that it's hide seemed to be the wrong color or that it was stunted in its growth. It was far more healthy in its mannerisms than its first-born sibling, though she might wonder about its ability to carry a rider when fully grown.

And yet all Jadore could think of was that Astor had developed some bizarre fixation upon her person and would. not. stop. talking to her.

What was a lady to do?

Fake a smile, that's what. It was a small effort, just a mild curling of her lips. But surely in the madman's state of distraction, small was enough.

Jadore murmured, indulgent as Myr towards Roni, "I see, darling. Two fish? And with no net? So very impressive. How could yours resist? Which is your egg again?

And at her side, her own string of small, bite-sized fish twitched as her fingers tensed on the line and her gaze shifted towards the egg she had "liberated". Still no sign of cracking, so far as she could tell. Oh dear.

[nozomi]

For a moment, Jessan thought that perhaps Semith sneaked in and filled one of the eggs with a very oddly colored kitten. She'd been known to do odd things, if rumors were to believe. As for Jessan, she never disbelieved such things, never felt the need to think that rumors were anything but truth.. She knew they were stretched and skewed, but, really, when a person heard about a kitten in the fucking basket at the last Hatching fifteen times, well, things began to take the place of 'fact' rather than 'rumor'. So when that chirping purple dragon looked up, out of it's shell, her eyebrows shot up to her hairline, head cocked to the side.

"For the love of little green dragons - is that one?" A dragon, rather. So small, she could pick it up. So purple. Jessan moved a little to the right, to get a better view of the thing then she did from entirely over Arkady's shoulder. She hadn't moved from the protective man (for not even Jessan felt that suicidal), but she shifted. All was well. "It's..."

Her lips pursed.

Well, well, well. Small dragons would be useful, at least. Less food to be eaten by them. Perhaps it'd be best.

"Least they won't eat much."

[puppetmaster]

Oh, sure, everyone. Look at the little purple. Isn't it precious. Isn't it so cute. Don't we all just want to cuddle-wuddle it!

Ugh. It made the poor Golden Starburst Egg sick. With envy? Maybe a little. But mostly with irritation. It couldn't stand the fawning sorts.

So obnoxious.

It's egg cracked hard against one of its clutchmates and finally the dragon inside was able to shake itself free. It did, literally, a wet dog motion that caused the glowlight to sparkle on its scales.

And oh, how it sparkled. A hide of deep blue, touched in places with green, in others with purple, and everywhere that sheen of brilliance. Any who'd seen Iiateth (and those in this group were unlikely to be counted in that number) would recognize her as a shadowed reflection, an opal in a whole new palate.

The Hatesong Hatchling stretched, first her wings and then her whole body, then yawned, hugely, casting only the briefest of glances at her still trapped sibling.

But, oh yes, there was something she had to do. Trotting lightly to one particular spot where three eggs leaned together, she nudged the rocking eggs aside and began digging into the dirt. It took a bit of work, but finally, she'd gotten down to the sacks. She nudged at one, pushing with her nose until, at last, a tiny, forgotten egg made its way out.

Yes. There it was. The shining surface of one of Iiateth's eggs, the Garden of Enchantment Egg (ADMIN). Surely though, such an unlooked after creature couldn't have survived!

Well, it didn't appear she thought that way. She chirped at it, and nuzzled it affectionately.

That done, the Hatesong Hatchling turned on the watchers and yawned again. Oh, my. So, this was them?

How tragic.

[Inkwell]

Astor puffed with pride at Jadore's praise, thin as it was. He took what people said at face value when it was positive; sarcasm had no place in his Astor-is-the-best mentality. "Without a net! I caught them like a real predator would." Which is why he was dripping on her the closer he leaned. "And my egg is that one." He pointed towards the Jazz Hands egg. "The one with the hearts on it. It likes me. I hope it hatches soon--"

He was cut off by the arrival of the Hatesong Hatchling, which made him stop short and suck in a breath. An opal? Well, considering Iateth, he shouldn't have been surprised. But really -- a pink, a yellow, a purple, and now an opal? Whatever came out of the Jazz Hands egg could only be more impressive, considering the slow upward climb. He shifted eagerly from foot to foot.

"She's gorgeous, isn't she, Jadore?" He prodded her lightly in the shoulder, grinned at the blur that was her face. "Hey. Hey. Maybe she'll Impress you. She's ladylike enough."

[Evadne]

Talking was bad. Dripping? Much, much worse.

Jadore committed the cardinal sin of closing her eyes. It was simply too much. No one could be expected to deal with challenges such as this one. Dripped on. In a sweltering cavern. That reeked. Were she not made of sterner stuff, she might well have swooned.

And she'd have done it beautifully. At least until she hit the water.

No, no, a graceful slide into the pool wasn't the thing. Suffering in silence was. And failing that, suffering with all of the elegance that hundreds of Turns of proper breeding could afford her. Because Jadore was hardly about to remain silent while being dripped on.

"Darling, if you could just...a step to the right, please? It's so stifling in here, and really, we're down by three, there's ample room," she said quietly. She couldn't very well step aside herself, there was Myr to think of, and Roni, and the pool. Astor's voice was just a buzz in her ear. He could have been imparting the most important of news and she'd simply...

Wait? Did he just prod her? Yes! That was a poke! She felt it! He had poked her! Why, of all of the...

Jadore's eyes flew open but before she could round on Astor and give him the tongue-lashing he so sorely deserved, it sunk in what he'd been saying. That and the flash of opalescent color against shadow saved the man from being verbally flayed.

It had yawned.

"You know, a proper lady never yawns in polite company, dearest," Jadore told Astor. Then she paused in delicate fashion. "Of course one mightn't consider this polite company."

[nozomi]

Ohdearsweetsomething.

Jessan blinked.

If they ever got caught, they were all going to die.

The outlaws stole a clutcher.

[nozomi]

The screaming died down enough for Machi to inwardly relax; his stance did not tighten, but the glare left his face, the iced snarl fading to another neutral expression. If the dragons stopped attacking, ceased their killing (or breathing), bodies were there to be disposed of. Even with his curiousity of whether or not they would eat humans, something felt odd about allowing the bodies to sit and rot in the middle of festivities.

Whatever they were.

Machi pushed off against the wall, started towards the hotsprings. He gave the Impressed wide berth, slid past Jiru with less sneering then before. With a dragon, Jiru couldn't touch him... Not for a turn at least. That was enough for Machi. Jadore, Astor, Myr, and the child were close enough for him to look to for askance. Machi had much more faith in women and their ability to lead, to take control of the situation. Jessan may have been his leader, but she was busying herself with Arkady, and dragon hunting.

"Where are the bodies?" He couldn't see, not with people so near. He smelled them, though. They'd be hard to miss.

[tuathade]

The significance of Hatesong and Single Early was... more or less lost on Arkady. Oh, he'd caught a brief glimpse of Iiateth from a distance, and he knew her color was called 'opal', but he was expecting something lighter, more like an overgrown white with the faint patches of other colors. As for the purple, well, this clutch had already had a pink and a yellow. They went into the mental category of 'more weird mutated colors'. Which made sense, because mutant + mutant + abnormal hatching = more mutant, right?

Still, weird mutant dragons were still dragons! "Shards, look at that little purple one," he murmured softly. "You could just scoop it up and carry it like a firelizard." Not that he would. But still! So little! It'd grow up, of course. But this was a good thing. Small dragons for reconaissance, large dragons to hit hard. They had the beginnings of a proper raiding force here. If they could survive weyrlinghood... Well. There were all manner of things that the outlaws could survive without short-term, but they would need in the long run. Things that would have to be acquired from Warden's.

Since Hatesong didn't seem inclined to rip anyone a structurally superfluous new orifice, Arkady sidled over and retrieved his meat while he had the chance. If Jiruyno could Impress, the harper held out hope that maybe he could too. Then he shifted back to his place, asking Jessan in an undertone, "How long does it take for dragons to reach their adult size?"

[puppetmaster]

If the Hatesong Hatchling was aware that she'd stolen many an outlaws attention, she didn't appear to care. She didn't preen or prance. Instead, with the air of someone doing a particularly dull but necessarily chore, she approached the circle of outlaws. She began to walk the circuit, being careful to remain out of reach.

She certainly wasn't going to let any of them touch her! Yet, if her disdain was obvious she didn't snarl or snap, just danced away from any outstretched hand with a toss of her head and a quickening of the the colors swirling in her eyes. If she remembered her clutchmate, still struggling with its egg, she didn't glance in that direction. She paid not a mite of attention even to the egg she'd so recently uncovered. Oh, finding ones lifemate was a dull job but someone had to do it.

Finally, she stopped before Astor, studying him with a slight tilt of her head. She lunged forward, forelegs extended to push the outlaw. If he dodged quickly enough, he'd simply splash into the springs. Otherwise, he'd have some decent sized scratches on his legs, and still splash into the springs.

Looking very pleased with herself, she turned to look at the woman she'd just liberated.

Oh, Jadoremine. I hate hatchings. They fail to impress me. Now, where's a girl to find a bite and some civilized company in this cave?

Name: Algonquith

Art Type Art Deco (Algonquith is particularly inspired by Dorothy Parker, however.)

Hex Code: 66CCCC (Or whatever you like)

Appearance:

Algonquith is best described as compact. Small she's got a thick, muscled form, with a short neck and a disproportional long and elegant tail. It's not a graceful or particularly feminine form, but it certainly looks dangerous. Her wingspan is narrow, excellent for trick flying but not intended for speed or stamina.

Her color might make her appear a blue, provided she's seen in a low light environment. Seen clearly, it's obvious she's no such thing. Deep blue, pale green and purple melt together on her hide, which has an undeniably opalescent sheen. She may look nothing like her older sister, but she's an opal alright, cast in an entirely new set of colors.

Personality:

Bitter, sharp, and devastatingly witty, Algonquith has an opinion, and an unfavorable one, about everything. She hates greens. Blues are boring. Browns are dull. Pinks are gaudy. And don't even get her started on grays. You want a pithy witicism about, well, anyone in the Weyr? Algonquith's your girl. And man does she love to share her opinions. If her rider expects that sort of devotion that leads some dragons to talk only to their rider, boy do they have another thought coming. Because she's got things to say about them as well.

Yet, for all her cutting little remarks about, well, everyone, Algonquith shows few signs of meaning any of it. She loves company, particularly clever company. Anyone who can give as good as they get will have her heart in minutes. Indeed, she's a bit of an organizer, the sort of dragon who thinks humans aren't the only ones who can have parties. She wants to be surrounded by sparkling company and is likely to set up regular meetings between herself and her favorites. And if someone else wants to stop by, welcome to them, as long as they can put up with being the butt of everyone's jokes.

In matters of the heart, Algonquith can be somewhat fragile. She doesn't crush, she falls deeply, madly in love. When this happens, the teasing stops. She seems to forget all her wit, her sparkling remarks, becoming fumbling and shy. She'll moon over a becoming male for sevendays, months, losing her appetite, forgetting her friends, and giving her heart and soul to the object of her affections. At least, until they finally return the favor. Algonquith's ardor quickly fades when someone loves her in return.

And maybe that's because, well, Algonquith can't imagine anyone loving her. Oh, she knows she's witty. She knows she can be the sparkling, clever life of the party. But it's show, it's a game she happens to be good at playing. No one could like her for her, could like the lonely, easily bruised little dragon beneath all the laughter. When those thoughts get too close to the surface, Algonquith can be prone to depression and at such times she clings to her rider, needing the reassurance of the one person who will never leave her, who can't leave her. She takes comfort in that, but sometimes seems to resent it. Maybe her rider would leave too, if only they could.

Why Me?

Come now, was there ever any doubt? Jadore is exactly what Algonquith needs. They're united in their view of the world, though Algonquith voices what Jadore only thinks. For her part, Jadore can help her new lifemate mingle a bit more charm with the razor edge of her tongue. Algonquith's greatest weakness is love, a problem that Jadore's never suffered. Maybe she'll teach her rider something of what it means to lose oneself to such an emotion. Regardless, Jadore can help ground and comfort her when she loses her heart.

[nozomi]

Jessan grinned with Ark's discussion of the firelizard sized hatchling. Both blonde eyebrows went up, grin settling back to a lower watt smile. "You want to keep it as a pet, don't you." The Mindhealer wrinkled her nose, still smiling with the thought. Arkady, with a little dragon on a leash, waddling behind him... She could dig it.

Still, when he moved away, her hands clenched. Jessan saw Machi at the corner of her eye, moving to a group of mostly women. Then Ark returned, and she relaxed, shrugged. "Golds take two turns, I think. All the rest just one. ... Iiateth was only a turn old when she Rose, though."

Orgy at the caves? Probab- annnnd the crazy guy splashed. Jessan couldn't see blood, but she saw rainbow eyes. The Highborn woman?

Well, well.

"The clutcher just Impressed a murderess." Cheerful as always. "Oh dear."

[Inkwell]

Astor didn't have time to answer Machi's question -- nor did he respond to Jadore's manners preaching (because he was perfect and therefore his manners were impeccable and she could just deal with it because he was polite company so there). The dragonet approached him and he decided, in true Astor fashion, not to jump. If it was going to maul him like that monstrous pink had mauled the man still bleeding on the floor not too far away, then that was what happened. He was Astor, a master of fire, an equal to these dragons, and that meant that he didn't get the option of backing down.

So really, it came as a surprise to him when all he suffered were some scratches on his legs and a short fall into the pool below. His flint was now wet, which annoyed him, and his sack of fish almost got away too, but he managed to resurface and regroup quickly enough to rescue his belongings. He needed that flint and he definitely needed that fish! He looked up, intending to send a glance at the dragonet that conveyed his amusement at what he saw as obvious play-fighting (it hadn't really hurt him, which meant it was playing, because if it had wanted to hurt him, he'd be dead), and was just in time to see it Impress to Jadore -- he was even far enough away to clearly see the rainbow in its eyes.

"Hah!" half-shouted, half-sputtered up to the two Ladies on the ledge as he crawled from the water, wiped it from his eyes. "I was right! I was right I was right I was right! It's because I'm so smart, you know."

Checking the damage to his legs (nevermind the rips in the jumpsuit), he was pleased to see what while they were long and steadily oozing blood, the gashes weren't terribly deep. They'd start to really ache in a few minutes, once his body realized that even shallow cuts were still cuts, but he'd live. Which was good, because his egg still hadn't hatched. He was starting to get impatient. He'd have to give it a talking-to once it got off its draconic ass and Impressed to him.

[Evadne]

"There, darling." Jadore was not so crass as to point but she did gesture with one hand for Machi's benefit, indicating the first casualty of the day on the other side of a few sets of outlaw legs. So in addition to the generally dismal conditions of humidity and oh dear Faranth the smell, there was the matter of blood sticking up the stone floor as well. Or making it slippery, given the moisture in the air here...

She felt some small spark of gratitude that there were those attending to the dirty but practical necessities caused by the pink's rampage. Therefore, Machi earned a small smile. A brief one as well because when she glanced from him, the opal was on the move and appeared to be coming in their direction.

Once again she tightened her grip on the string of fish, until the makeshift cord began to bite into her fingers.

What happened next seemed to flow by in slow motion. Astor was beside her and then he was not but Jadore couldn't pin down the why of it. Rainbow was already filling the edges of her vision and it was not simply light reflected from the hatchling's hide. Then Algonquith's presence purred into her mind and the cramped, echoey cavern simply slipped away. Someone was shouting and spluttering in the distance, somewhere the word "murderess" drifted through the crowd noise to touch her ears. But most of all, there was a voice. A beautiful voice.

A fabulous voice.

Oh, Jadoremine. I hate hatchings. They fail to impress me. Now, where's a girl to find a bite and some civilized company in this cave?

And as she had on the night of the raid, Jadore laughed. It was parlor-perfect laughter, high and brilliant, as she sank to a knee and cupped her hand against the curve of the opal's jaw. "Oh my dearest, you've no idea. Here..."

Jadore had no idea her fingers were trembling so badly; they shook and made it difficult to rip free one of the fish on the string. Algonquith watched with mingled disdain and amusement, her whirling eyes touched by sparks of growing hunger. Really, you had all of that time to get ready for me and now you fumble? I despair.

For once, Jadore did not respond with a correction. Instead she laughed again and held out the fish for the opal to lift daintily from her fingers. "If you knew the conditions I've had to work in, darling...oh but let's not fuss, mm? Time enough for that later. Here, have another..."

[Spiffy]

Kailin looked up at the collective oohs and aahs, eyes flying to the eggy with the most movement - and a purple head sticking out of It.

And such a small head! She quickly identified it ad the first egg shed touched, the one who had been so pleased to see her because she was sane. SHed liked that egg would totally not mind if it chose her. Plus the fact it was so damn sweet.

And then the poor purple was completely overshadowed by the hatching of the Golden Starburst. Where the purple was cute, the opal was beautiful. And she pretty soon appeared out from behind the outlaws that had been obscuring her view, and rather roughly pushed another guy into the water. He came out spluttering and shouting, Kailin ducking out of the opals way, as it appeared to impress to Jadore.

Huh, well that made sense.



Bella didn't reply immediately, instead snorting derisively and peering back to the eggs. Oh hey, a purple. How novel. She turned back to Yekemi as he spoke.

She 'Mmm'd' in agreement. "She reminds me of one of mt girls," she said, nodding toward Bellatrisk.

The gold, for her part, continued to humm her stoic greeting to the new hatchlings. She was rather shocked when the opal dug another egg out of the dirt, snorting in surprise. HOw did that get there? Shed never felt it there before! She glared with red tinged eyes at the new egg, as if it was the eggs fault that its very presence was a mar to her reputation as a mother - even though this was 'her' first clutch, a dragon clutch in unfavourable conditions, and never mind that when she did get her own clutch shed likely end up killing many of them with a purpose anyway.