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I'M A BURD

M'onk waited.

He sat in his office each day when not on duty, his fingers interlaced and his face set into an expressoon much too cold for public consumption. The eggs hardened some time ago, that disasterous time with Kaelyandra behind them. A least a few had been driven to tears, the little brats, but he'd heard some rumors that some in the Weyr thought he wanted the eggs dead... How silly. M'onk, his wrinkled face stern, could think of no worse PR than murdering eggs.

Still, he wanted them shelled, and quickly.

Mikhaith's humming ran through him as if on cue, the ageing bronze content where he sunned himself in the morning light. M'onk gripped his cane and stood, grimacing, to glance at his window. Morning - past dawn, not early enough for breakfast outside of the wretched wher handlers and their mutated beasts. M'onk rolled his shoulders and headed to the Sands with his head high and old bones creaking.



Candidate and Weyrlingmaster V'tyai sat on the edge of the prison wall that morning, thin rolled cigarette pursed between his lips. The sky lit brilliant colors, reds and blues and a sun not high enough in the sky to scorch. His back hurt from waking half-sprawled on his bed, his side hurt from the scars. When he sipped at the watered down wine he'd laced with fellis, V'tyai thought of a bed made of pillows and blankets instead of the hard cot of a mattress he had and he hoped for the fellis to kick in soon.

His legs kicked at the thin air, the blue rider himself close enough to fall off the edge. The humming nearly pushed him over. V'tyai yelped, his cigarette falling from his mouth and down to the wall. It's smoke tickled his nose seconds before hand. He swung himself back over with a grumble, taking another swig of his wine.

Time to gather the Candidates. Ogbanuth rumbled from where he sprawled out n the sun.

You gather the candidates. V'tyai snapped, brushing off his pants.

Ogbanuth rumbled in amusement and stretched out along his couch. His pebbled skin pooled out more than usual. The blue hummed then, reaching out to the Candidates. The blue spoke in slow measured words, his voice pleasant for such a snappish mans dragon. Good morning, young Candidates. This is Ogbanuth. Please proceed to the hatching sands, preferably without tears or snot. Don your white robes - prisoners, remember to put on the red sash assigned to you. No pushing, no fighting, no yelling. V'tyai will be displeased otherwise.

You're irritating. The Weyrlingmaster started off towards teh sands, a scowl written on his face. The sight that greeted him didn't help: guards were posted everywhere, whers pushed off to the side or under shade. The two babysitting greens remained where Brakiheth should have been. Kaelyandra, though... Kaelyandra was no where to be seen. At least one of the more sensible guards was posted near to the eggs, the brownrider. Somewhat irritating, but not bad.

"Don't be stupid, Candidates." V'tyai sighed his words when he reached the sands, turning to face the gathered Candidates. On the Sands, eggs rocked furiously, especially Noisy Socialite. Some hairline cracks showed. "And don't provoke the Warden. I don't need to be demoted further."

Off to the side near the Stands and the meat (and well outside of hearing range), M'onk smiled.




Golden Melody Egg Green Serinuth to Saain
Yellow. Bright, bright yellow. This egg is one that's easy to spot. The shell is decorated with a cheery pattern of music notes in paler yellow and darker gold, and while there is nothing particularly metallic about the sheen of the shell, some might hang their hopes on it. But it doesn't seem big enough... When touched, the egg gives off an unmistakable sense of anxiety. It's "chatty", inasmuch as eggs go, but there is a nervous energy to it rather than eager excitement.

Maritime Monochrome Egg Green Haliath to Hiemal
This mid-sized egg is a deep steel grey, its base lined with darker swirls like the curling waves of the ocean. It sits tilted at a relaxed and seemingly restful angle, considerably more patient than some of its siblings - it has the same martial attitude to it as the Little Hunter, but without any of the swagger and bravado. But the mind within is far from complacent. It is bright and alert, examining the situation with a watchful and faintly protective sense to it.

Little Hunter Egg Gray Sparveth to Between
This egg is so small! It's ridiculously small! It seems too little even to hold a green, somehow, but that doesn't stop it from being overstuffed with personality. White flecked with dark brown, with a crest of black at the top, it wriggles occasionally as if displeased by its current position. Anyone touching it will be instantly overwhelmed by belligerence. What? You think you're so much bigger than the Little Hunter? Yeah you just put your head down on its level and it will RUN ITS SHELL INTO YOUR FACE.

Marvelous Dancer Egg Blue Lophorinth to Luka
The Marvelous Dancer egg is a bit of a mixed bag. Notable because of its large size (it's quite big, especially compared to some of its shrimpier siblings), its taupe shell with orange-and-maroon streaks isn't as eye-catching as some of its siblings. Still, it's loud, as if the dragonet inside yelling for people to look at it. Those who touch it find themselves bombarded with friendly, borderline-desperate interest, and it seems fonder of females than of males. Pretty girls in particular seem to get the most attention.

Noisy Socialite Egg Yellow Sturnuth to Marue
Large, purple, and decorated with tiny white v-shapes, the Noisy Socialite egg sits next to the Marvelous Dancer egg and seems very nearly as loud as its sibling. Certainly, it doesn't like that its neighbor outdoes it. Candidates moving toward Marvelous Dancer can rest assured that they'll be hearing some shouting from Noisy Socialite quite soon. Its mental presence isn't quite as friendly, though - it's more interested in making itself known to Candidates than it is in being nice to them.

Winter Visitor Egg Green Poecileth to Malta
Patterned in high-contrast light and dark grey with a bright yellow spot dead in its center, the Winter Visitor egg sits toward the middle of the clutch and seems to like it that way. Not as loud as some of its siblings, the egg's large size seems to put it at something of a disadvantage. It doesn't want to be quite so big, but it will welcome the attention of the more quiet-minded Candidates. Loud ones (and criminals) tend to leave it a little skittish.

Cheerful Sneak-Thief Egg Blue Cyanath to Rokana
Take a seat by this bicolored blue egg for a while, because the curiously-round, alarmingly blue Cheerful Sneak-Thief egg wants to hang out with you! Medium-sized, more globe-shaped than egg-shaped, and sitting at the fringes of the clutch, Cheerful Sneak-Thief is much calmer than many of its siblings. It's curious, sure, but right now it's more interested in figuring out all these Candidates. Some more shrewd minds might find an appraising eye on them for a moment, but it's so quick that it was probably just imagination - right?

Preening Princess Egg Opal Lasoth to Leevi
Much quieter than some of its siblings, the Preening Princess never the less manages to catch the egg if what you're looking for is a pale blue and white egg. Oh, there's the unmistakable sheen of a queen on that pale hide but other than that, the only reason it sticks out is for it's lack of color. This little thing is warm and welcoming, brightening up more when someone thinks kind things. The very loud and the very mean receive the same welcome but little else.

Emperors Groove Egg
Sitting pretty in the middle of the clutch with it's royal blue shell and near neon green feather pattern, Emperors Groove is not the largest of it's clutch but it certainly comes up against Noisy Socialite in the loud category. Socialite simply has more interesting things to say; Emperors Groove wants to shake it's groove thang and bust out of the shell.

Strawberry Wine Egg Pink Haemath to Canoake
Why hello there! The Strawberry Wine egg is in the middle of it's size group, yes, but it knows it has flair. Just look at all of those dashing stripes on it's blood covered shell. This egg is friendly to a fault, cheerfully beaming itself into others heads. Even the nastier of the minds will get laughed at, mainly because the Strawberry Wine really doesn't care what you think.

Tiny Professor Egg Green Atheth to Jaykkial
A large brown egg sits front and center on the sands, wide at the bottom and tapered at the top. There are pale brown claw marks on the side and what appears to be... a very angry face in the center? Despite that, it is a slow moving presence in the egg. It pokes and prods at the minds touching it, perhaps getting a bit too personal with looking into their past actions and personalities. Any unintelligent persons are treated with condescention.

GROUP HUG Egg Gray Irath to Joscelin
OMG PEOPLE. NO. NO. FOR REAL.
PEOPLE.
GROUP HUG is totally happy to meet everyone, even you grumpy Dust dealer! Yes. Yes you! Sitting far back in it's grey and pink shell, the GROUP HUG egg is one of the smallest of it's group and certainly round. It's too small to even squish a green in there, unless you roll it into a tight ball... which GROUP HUG supposes is possible. This egg is very enthusiastic and no matter the person, it will greet with glee, and perhaps a bit of snark.

Fly Away Home EggBrown Brantath to Lin
As small as GROUP HUG and Little Hunter, Fly Away Home is round and soft tan with darker specks of near brown. There is no real feeling coming from it, but it's just chillin', waiting maybe. People are greeted with enough to not label it hostile but it's certainly not about to lick your face in enthusiasm.


HIDDEN EGG:
Yellow Zenaith to Ralvyn

RULES

• ICA = ICC
  
• Follow all of the other shop rules
  
• Feel free to bring in some NPCs! Why not, go crazy. Just don't forget your PC characters. TALKING TO YOU, LURKERS. come to meeee.
  
• FURTHER RULES TO BE ADDED. For now, just don't be dumb.

The humming made him look up from his book.

The voice in his mind made him snap it shut.

Hiemal decided very firmly that he did not like other people's dragons invading the privacy of his mind; he knew perfectly well that the blue could not read his mind but that did not mean he welcomed in the uninvited guest. He couldn't argue with the efficiency of it though, for in seconds with very little effort all the candidates knew exactly what was expected of them.

He dressed quickly in the white robes he had been given, ignoring the bored and faintly hostile gaze of his cellmate completely. Now the sash. Hiemal ran it through his hands once and then tied it neatly around his waist. He then took it off an re-tied it because one end had been longer than the other. After that little bit of rearrangement he just had time to run a comb through his hair before it was time to proceed to the Sands.

He reached the edge of the sands not long later, not the first to show his face but amongst the earlier arrivals. When the once Secondary now candidate and weyrlingmaster spoke Hiemal raised an eyebrow, thus expressing his skepticism that his fellows were capable of avoiding stupidity. So long as they didn't bring any trouble upon him through their foolishness it made little difference to him, but he suspected that V'tyai was going to be most disappointed.

****************

<...Nugh.>





<...Free beer is being given out in the hallways?>





C'tis flailed upright in bed.



"Shaff!"


A few minutes later a fully dressed Secondary hastened down the corridors, downing a mug of klah and shoving half a meatroll he'd had left in his room from last night into his face with remarkable efficiency. he scowled as he took his place in the stands,

****************

It was the start of the day for much of Warden's but the end of it for him. Sleep was very much in order, four or maybe even five solid hours because it was his day off tomorrow and he was utterly exhausted. Would six or seven be pushing it? Sitting half dressed on the edge of his bed Bereck blinked blearily at his timepiece, trying to decide when to set its tinny little alarm for. Six hours would be alright, it wasn’t like he had anything urgent to do tomorrow after all. With Berath on egg sitting duty he couldn’t go anywhere and for once there were no critical patients on the wards. He could definitely justify six hours.

Reaching a decision was something of a relief not to mention quite an achievement for his weary mind. Fingers that were deft despite exhaustion twiddled the little dials around into the correct position and Bereck set the watch on the little table by his bed. Yawning hugely he reached up to his neck in order to remove the golden ring he always wore on a golden chain.

It was at that precise moment that Berath’s excitement hit him like a brick.

A moment after that the humming started.

Bereck groaned and pushed himself stiffly to his feet. He could really have used that sleep.


After a large mug of extremely strong klah and a brief flurry of activity in the infirmary Bereck arrived on the edge of the Sands with a small contingent of Journymen/women and apprentices. The healer was dressed neatly but had neglected to brush his hair and the vivid strands were in some disarray. That along with the dark circles under his eyes spoke quite clearly of lack of sleep, but his eyes themselves at least were bright and alert. As ever he that he and the other healers wouldn't be needed but Hatchings were unpredictable things, and it seemed to him as often as not that somebody was at least mildly mauled. Whether he liked it or not and regardless of whether he was tired or not he needed to be here, or at least he believed he did. He might be needed. How could he be anywhere else?


Berath exclaimed, tearing her attention away from the eggs just enough to finally address her bondmate properly. She had never been so close to eggs before, let alone when they were about to hatch! The name of the clutch's mother escaped her just at that moment but she privately swore to the gold, whoever she was, that she would see all of her babies safe to their riders and watch over them as they grew. Warden's was a hard place to live, and a harder one to be born into. She might not be their real mother but she would do her very best for them regardless.

Blyte prided himself on being able to sleep through anything, but that humming was just... frustrating. He had even stuck his pillow over his head, but nothing was helping. And then he found out why.

Good morning, young Candidates. This is Ogbanuth. Please proceed to the hatching sands, preferably without tears or snot. Don your white robes - prisoners, remember to put on the red sash assigned to you. No pushing, no fighting, no yelling. V'tyai will be displeased otherwise.

It was the eggs! He jumped out of bed, stripping out of his red jumpsuit and into the white candidate robe. It was odd wearing white, after wearing bright red for so long, but it was traditional. He tied the sash on tightly, trying to keep it as close to the robe as he could. He didn't want it to hang loose, just in case, if a hatchling were to accidentally catch hold of it, that wouldn't be good.

He made his way down to the sands, joining the rest of the group. He suspected that things weren't going to go as well as anyone would like, but until things started to go wrong, he saw no reason not to be slightly excited. He might impress, might become a rider, might be stuck here the rest of his life.

He chuckled, and then glanced over at the eggs. They were all rocking, but it was the Noisy Socialite that looked like it would hatch first, if one of the other's didn't manage to first. Like the Marvelous Dancer egg, or the Emperors Groove one. That wouldn't surprise him in the least.



The hatching is starting, The brown said, interupting the girl from her bath. I am watching. Are you coming? It wasn't necessary, but there was something exciting about hatchings, and she didn't have guard duty until later in the afternoon. Hopefully it'd be over by then, but if now, she'd just have to get updates from someone who was still there.

She got dressed quickly enough, and made her way down to the sands. She didn't envy the guards who were guarding the sands, a job that she would have likely had if she hadn't impressed at the last hatching.

She sat down near some of the other riders, glancing over the eggs. None had hatched yet, so she hadn't missed anything, and she leaned back, glancing back and forth at all of the going ons.

Squadsecond C’ross had his orders.

It would be Squadleader C’ross soon, if the rumors were right about the direction that M’onk’s favor was blowing. There was an empty Secondary Warden position in need of filling, and L’iv wanted it badly. When she moved up, so would her Second. Way of the world.

Privately, C’ross wondered whether his current assignment was some kind of test. He’d shown where his loyalties lay when the wherhandlers had nearly staged outright rebellion on the sands. Did M’onk want to see how far he was willing to take his principles?

You know I can’t help you, if he gives the order.

I know, Merceth. I understand.

I can stop the greens and the whers from interfering, at least. So it doesn’t turn into a ******** like last time. Merceth was a great brooding shape, perched towards the back of the makeshift stands, head low and wings mantled over him like a cloak. C’ross could feel an unfamiliar sensation through the bond – Merceth was sick with worry, same as he was.

C’ross didn’t respond. He watched the red-sashed Candidates file onto the sands, and he loaded a bolt into his crossbow.

___


Descanth had barely left the sands since Brakiheth’s death. The green had lost some weight – even M’ska’s desperate urging wasn’t enough to get her down to the feeding grounds on her usual schedule. But the look in her eyes was bright and warm as it had ever been as she nudged her rider into wakefulness and croon-hummed in his ear.

They hatch!

“Faranth. Did I fall asleep here?” He totally had. M’ska was all over sand, but mercifully it was dry sand, and could be hastily brushed off. His back cricked unpleasantly from having dozed off curled up in his dragon’s forelegs, but that was a minor concern. The eggs were hatching!

The croon with which Descanth greeted Berath was practically a warble, rising above the general hum before she settled back into the draconic chorus. Even Merceth’s presence was tolerated good-naturedly; everyone was allowed to watch a Hatching! They were meant to be joyous, wonderful, happy events. And shardit, Descanth would help make it one.

___


Ralvyn was nervous. Ralvyn was, in fact, extremely nervous. But he was also eager, and excited, and practically vibrating out of his skin with the combination of all those things. He fidgeted his way into the (sadly oversized) Candidate robe, then bolted down to the sands as fast as he could make it.

He listened attentively to V’tyai’s instructions – in one sense it made him sad to see the kind bluerider demoted, but in another sense he was almost relieved that V’tyai would be their full-time instructor now. Far better to have him than to have M’onk. He waved to a few of the apprentices and journeymen he recognized standing by the Masterhealer, and then scanned the crowd for the other face he wanted to see...

Ah! There she was! Ralvyn sidled his way over to where Malta stood, then gave her a little smile. “Good luck!”

While the Noisy Socialite egg continued to rock with greater and greater enthusiasm, one of the other eggs seemed poised to steal the coveted 'first hatched' title. As the Candidates began to gather, Maritime Monochrome twitched. Then it rocked. Then a little green foot punched right through the grey shell.

The best adjective for the hatchling that extricated herself from the egg was solid. Not particularly huge for a green, but certainly quite strong even as a newborn, she shrugged her way out of the shell without any difficulty. If anyone had been concerned that Brakiheth's clutch would be as frail as their lost mother, then it seemed at least this one would break the mold. She shook the last of the shell shards and egg-goop off her lightly dappled hindquarters, stretched her wings as if to inspect them, and then turned bright curious eyes onto the assembled Candidates.



The Osprey green wasted no time. Once she was satisfied that no fragments of shell still clung to her egg-damp hide, she trotted briskly towards the group with a confident gait. She inspected them in turn - Meera got a curious sniff, Emmitod a snort. For a moment she seemed distracted by the presence of the whers, stopping short to stare curiously in their direction. But her eyes never shifted from their calm steady green: neither the yellow or grey of distress, nor the rainbow of Impression.

Canoake was once again woken at the crack of dawn against her will. Honestly, how was a girl supposed to get her beauty sleep if no one even allowed it?? Thankfully, she woke up fairly pretty to begin with and with a fair amount of cursing and huffing, pulled on her candidate robes. So the eggs were hatching. that was already a plus. And if they hatched and Impressed... Well, she could only hope it would be her ticket away from Wardens.

All she had to do was lie a little. Maybe a little bribery. Whatever it took, Pern would be hers.

Moving quickly, she spotted V'tyai. The man seemed even grumpier than usual if that was possible and she purposely tuned out his common sense speech. Moving towards the front of the girls but not in the front in case someone went on a war path, she got a good look as the Maritime Monochrome egg hatched. What lovely dark markings she had against such pale green hide. Inside, just a little, Canoake melted a bit.

Prisoner Candidate Blyte

Well, he had been right about the Socialite egg not hatching first, but the Maritime egg hadn't been one of the ones that he had expected. He remembered that egg from the touching, and had expected one of the more flamboyant ones to come out first. Guess you never knew what was going to happen.

Some would claim that a green hatching first was bad luck, but she looked strong and sturdy, a good solid little hatchling. Cute too. He didn't necessarily want to impress her, as he'd prefer a male, but whoever ended up with the little darling was going to be a lucky person.

So far, so good. The boy remained still and quiet, glancing between the eggs and the hatching so that he would hopefully not miss anything.

Marue had rushed to the sands, far too excited to think of anything but the eggs! Oh gosh, did she look ok? Would the dragons even care how she looked? As soon as she arrived, the noisy sociolite egg was rocking, and mere moments later, out tumbled a solid little green from another egg. She remembered that egg, the noisy sociolite, it had thought she was something else, The girl strained to remain where she stood. She wanted to run up and look at the creature, inspect its patterns and colors further, but even she wasn't that daft. Dragon hatchlings could cause quite a bit of damage, even Marue knew that. She stood, nervous at the edge of the sands, fiddling with her red sash. The white robes were far from flattering, but at least it wasn't that god forsaken red jumpsuit.

Rokana watched the eggs with lit eyes, but refused to get his hopes up. Even his firelizard, the little gold Oddaye perched near by, watching everything she could with excitement reverberating through her thoughts. He'd half expected her to stay perched upon his shoulder for the hatching, but the little gold didn't seem to fancy the chance of being some hatchling's first snack. He watched as a green tumbled out of the Noisy Sociolite egg, and ever slightly stepped away. He hadn't liked the egg the first time he touched it, and was rather sure he didn't want to be near it now.