Chek
Weyrlingmaster
chekct[M:-15]
I'm so magical I vomit rainbows
Posts: 1,091
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Post by Chek on Mar 24, 2013 18:34:54 GMT -5
While Sebolaren faced his fate at the claws of Damask's firstborn, and while Damask and her secondborn flew to the defense of the herder, two more eggs made moves to let their contents into the world. The large crimson egg pulsed, and a nose broke through one side – it withdrew and the egg shivered...before the entire side split open and a spilled forth a second brown, marked with pale stripes and marked here and there with twisted, knobbly upthrusts of hide that almost made the newborn look fuzzy. He was akin to his brother in size, though more leg and less outright bulk, and as he lay sprawled in the sand, it seemed his temperament was not like that of his sibling – he chirped, almost dazedly, dragging his face through the sand as he looked around with wide blue swirling eyes. A nearby sound attracted his attention and his gaze turned towards the tiny human on the sands. He chirped worriedly and staggered to his feet, taking a few loose, floppy steps towards Shino – tiny human was weeping and that was terrible; this was his clutchmate, heard and loved through the shell, much like his mother and his mother's sister were to him. This was...not right! Why would anyone hurt his clutchmates? The screams of rage from his mother and green sister had him swinging his head around – there, in the Stands, more blood, his fighting sister and his enraged mother forcing her way through the seats in order to stop...his brother. What betrayal. His own brother! The little brown made a hoarse, short sound, eyes quickly switching from blue to red in an instant as she shot across the sands, long legs eating the up the ground between his egg and the entrance to the Stands, and bearing him literally under his mother's belly as he sprinted past her and into the fray. He avoided the flailing claws of his sister by a fraction of an inch as he sank his own teeth into the throat of his larger brother, twisting his head up and back. The firstborn brown squalled at this assault, now facing a battle on three sides – Galibra, biting his sensitive face, the green shredding his rump, and now his younger brother at his shoulder. Galibra, however, was the deciding factor in the battle – as Damask arrived, looming over the roiling battle, the tunnelsnake managed her goal, sinking fang into one of the brown's red-blazing eyes. The murderous brown reared back, his jaws and claws releasing Sebol long enough for the joint effort of his siblings to drag him down and away, and then Damask was lunging in, catching her feral child around the middle. The crunch of bone echoed, despite the noise and chaos, and the elder brown went limp and still; the green fell away, releasing her target, but the younger brown held on, growing and shaking his head back and forth as he was held aloft by his grip on his dead brother's throat. Damask shook her head violently, shaking the living brown loose – he flopped on the ground, but quickly gathered himself to lunge again, gaze still locked on the body locked in his mother's jaws. Damask, however, was having none of that – she thumped him one, two, three times with a paw, until he staggered back, dazed, his eyes fading back to blue. She left them, then, carrying her bad egg back to the sands, pausing as she passed Deliah and her handler's brother, on her way back down, Healers. HEAL.Behind her, near Sebol, the green was whining and pacing near the badly injured human as her younger brother tried to pop his nose in to see if the herder was alright – or even alive. The green did not react well – one of her wickedly clawed paws shot out and raked her brown brother across the face, leaving him reeling backwards with three perfect gouges dripping ichor into his eyes. He squealed, stumbling backwards away from her hissing, and blindly staggered away from his sister, plowing into people and eventually stumbling right over a tier of seating and landing atop Varkyr. He struggled to free himself from his unintended landing pad's clothing without injuring the Candidate, but there was only so much he could do without clawing lightly him, accidentally as it might be. Finally, he went limp and craned his head in the direction of the Sands, chirping meaningfully. He was stuck – someone needed to get him loose to send him on his way. The little green, after hissing her brother away, turned back to the fallen Sebolaren. Her little voice rising and falling in a despairing wail, she flattened her belly over his injured shoulder, attempted to hold flesh together and blood inside the only way she could, Sesk need Sebol! No no, blood no more, Sesk here, Sesk protect. Please!Impressed: Sebolaren Name: Sesk Hex: 416600 Personality: Small and fierce, Sesk is a tried and proven warrior and predator, able to take on opponents many time her size and emerge successful. She is fiercely protective of Sebol, both physically and mentally, and though she knows nothing can ever undo the damage the loss of his dragon did to Sebol, she is very intent on piecing the man back together in a way that means he can be happy again.
She loves with all her heart and soul, Sebolaren especially, but those who gain her trust and confidence are treated with all due care... though betrayal can only be repaid with death. She has very little idea of personal space, craving physical contact whenever possible to the point of full contact body checks being her favored means of greeting someone – and she usually narrates her “attacks” with great enthusiasm.
Though she may come off as naïve and excitable sometimes, don't let her fool you. There is a cunning mind in her little green head. On the Sand, the yellow egg finally opened, allowing a richly toned blue wheret to step forth as if he had choreographed the action.
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Cathaline
Lady Holder
cathct[M:50]
Posts: 3,279
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Post by Cathaline on Mar 24, 2013 18:45:36 GMT -5
Delilah didn't look at Q'sis, or speak to him, but she reacted to his words. Was she a Weyrlingmaster or not? She could control her sharding dragon without standing still - she rode a pink, for heaven's sake, not a ferocious red. But that brown out there was proving that color was not necessarily a predictor of personality. Browns were known as stable, calm creatures, but this...this was anything but.
The petite blonde was off like a shot. There was something blank and dead about her eyes, but it was only because half of her mind was torn away, smothering Agnith's screams to prevent them from reaching the brown wheret. If he could be saved, if he could, then Delilah would not have it said that she and her dragon were responsible for his death -
She need not have worried. By the time she reached the scene, passing Damask on the way, the monster was put down. The tiny green wheret curled around Sebolaren, and Delilah stepped past Atenna, pressing her pale hands against his wounds without hesitation. It was not the first time she'd healed him and it probably wouldn't be the last. Particularly considering his new status as a wherhandler, not that she realised that yet.
Kalesk gave a nod of approval to Damask for her action. That brown was worthless; he would have gone wild. The gold flared her tiny wings and strode into the stands, followed by her handler. Fortunately they weren't too high up, and she levered herself over the barricade, her jaws closing on the living brown. He looked like a doll in her teeth, and she spat him out onto the sands. For Varkyr she had nothing, not even a glance; for Sebolaren, a sniff.
Wherling,[/i] she noted. If he survived. If the panic didn't drive his little one to death.
Kalenna frowned, and snapped to Q'sis, "Don't touch him yet. He Impressed; we must be careful how we proceed." Too much jostling could terrify the poor green.
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maruset
Wingrider
marct[M:-420]
Posts: 590
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Post by maruset on Mar 24, 2013 19:03:14 GMT -5
Feeling a bit dizzy, Iola watched as another brown tore his way up into the stands as well, though she was relieved to see that he was joining in the fight against the first. Her leg throbbed in a slow, aching pattern that told her it was going to be like the scar on her neck. Something that was going to ache in cold weather. Right now, though, most of her attention was on the whers in the stands.
Though the issue seemed to be settled by a loud crunch that told Iola that Damask finished the problem of the brown once and for all.
Though she was having issues with seeing, it looked like the green had latched onto the person the brown had been shredding. Iola glanced at the other brown, then back at the eggs on the sands. She was ready for this hatching to be over so she could sit down and get her knee tended to. Though she was still hoping for a pairing, and she stood as tall as she could, back straight as she looked at the blue that had just hatched. He was a lovely color, too.
In the stands, now that the brown had been dealt with, Letorin let himself settle down some. It was sad that Damask had to deal with the first hatchling in such a way, but it was dealt with. Though the green had latched, and, and Letorin paused only a moment before he settled back into his seat and quickly drew out the scene. This was the sort of thing that he wanted to get down, unique things like this. In between quick lines of art, he was tossing down scribbles in shorthand, getting the reactions of people around him, doing anything and everything he could to get things down, and to keep his mind from focusing on how much blood that one wher had tore from someone.
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Rii
Wingleader
riict[M:420]
RP demon hungers...
Posts: 803
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Post by Rii on Mar 24, 2013 19:15:16 GMT -5
Crunch. Well, there was no question what had happened to the savage brown. He was done, and Damask was removing his body and shooing the second brown wheret away. With so many people around the fallen man and the remaining two wherets, it was hard to see, but he had turned and stood and continued to peer as best he could. Like any wreck, it was hard to look away.
Horrified fascination turned to shock and pain as the second brown squealed, knocking people out of the way in a hurried retreat that sent him toppling down a tier and right on top of the Istan-bred candidate. Varkyr cried out as the wheret bowled him over and managed to get snared in his clothing. Cloth was only cloth and it tore, and skin was only skin so it broke as well, leaving slices on his chest and the arm he raised to protect his face, just in case.
Finally, the wheret's struggles stilled. Lowering his arm, Varkyr looked at the brown, who appeared to have become well-entangled in the torn tunic but now seemed to be asking for help. Varkyr gulped. He was honestly kind of afraid to move in case it set the hatchling off again. "Um... c-can somebody help? Please?" His voice cracked with sheer nerves. Suddenly the wheret was torn away, and he had an impression of teeth and muscle and gold hide before it was gone. He could sit up, and did, taking a look at the bleeding clawmarks. Um... ow. -Ow-.
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Gray
Wingrider
grayct[M:-350]
Posts: 870
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Post by Gray on Mar 24, 2013 19:22:24 GMT -5
Aerie winced as the battle raged. Eggs broke on the sands, but she didn't look at them, keeping her dark eyes trained on the herder. Bile churned in her stomach as she finally looked away. Whers. There was a reason she wasn't overly fond of them. This was it. They could be so cruel, so thoughtless. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she turned to see the second brown. He was paler, much softer than the other. Instantly she scowled.
But she quickly softened. She was conflicted. On one hand, that first brown and the green that hurt her were bad. But Gennesk, and this green here, Disk, they were so... Nice. She truly questions wether her efforts to assisting cotholds with their wher problems was right. But this really was no time for introspection ,as this battle was coming to a head.
Reaching one large hand over, Dita patted Kidanyr on the head. “Don' worry girl. It's gonna be ok. You to.” He nodded to Aerie, speaking loudly so the smaller blonde could hear around Aerie's hands. Is be ok. Damask is good momma. Has good babies. Good eggies. No sads. The green chirped, though her eyes still whirled dangerously, even as the siblings and mother clashed. Her jaws parted a bit, one long tongue snaking out to lick her muzzle. One clawed paw settled on the bench, lifting her o she could watch the fight better.
Dita's eyes narrowed as both mother and daughter flanked the brown, the paler brown soon joining. This just didn't feel right. He hoped Sebolaren would be ok, from what he had heard, the herder had not had an easy life. Even Burlesk's hatching had not been so awful. If the healers were not quick, the man would lose his life.
Aerie turned in time to see Damask bite the brown. She winced, she could almost hear the crunch of bones. But the green didn't seem intent on moving. The mans? She guessed it must have been, with how she ran to protect him so quickly. It was over. It ended so quickly, so abruptly. She couldn't take her eyes from the brown body. It was for the best, Aerie figured. Looking over to Dita, she smiled a bit shakily. “Wherhanlders don't mess around in a hatching, huh?”
Kida, who's eyes were still firmly on the sand cheered for the blue. “Oh look he's pretty!” She knew something was up. She knew she had been spared something awful. It had to be, with everyone rushing and the muffled sounds she heard, but having not witnessed it, she couldn't feel too worried. Especially not as Disk lay her large green head in Kida's lap. Scratching the wher's eye ridges affectionately, she pointed to the blue. “Look at that baby, doesn't he look nicer?” Is hope nice. No bad egg. No more bad.
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Zephyr
Weyrling
zephct[M:150]
Posts: 300
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Post by Zephyr on Mar 24, 2013 19:33:54 GMT -5
This was far too much for him, Remy thought as he closed his hand around the hilt of his blade, but otherwise stayed where he was, eyes no longer locked on the rocking eggs, but fixated on the sands, watching the carnage unfurling before his eyes. Another brown had hatched, which had been a surprise in and of itself, but this brown apparently want to protect the torn up man. As stated before, Remy wasn’t a hero, and it’s a good thing he wasn’t a healer, either, because even after having apparently impressed to the green, he might have been too far gone to save…
And this was not what he’d signed up for, murderous baby whers whose sole purpose in life was to rip people apart. He can’t say he wasn’t a little pleased when the red thundered into the stands and broke the little wher’s back. That monster had been trouble, and even biased as hell, Remy could see that. He wasn’t like some of the candidates, so desperate for a mindmate that they’d even take something as monstrous as that hatchling.
Then watch it end up killing them in the middle of the night.
The second bronze seemed a shade nicer, and even with his own fear, Remy let himself relax. Now that the first brown had been dealt with – and watching the mother carry her dead child back to the sands caused a special kind of pain in a part of the candidate’s heart that he didn’t know was capable of feeling anything…his respect for the red grew considerably then. Snorting, he straightened himself, watching as the healers rushed over and worked frantically on the man who’d been mauled.
There was so much blood, but it seemed that there were no more monster wherlets. The green had impressed – whether she lived or not was yet to be seen – the brown seemed much calmer, and…as he pulled his gaze back to the eggs, a blue stood there, and Remy took a moment to admire its grace.
Only a moment though, because the girl the first brown had attacked was standing up, and Remy took a moment to walk over to Iola, tilting his head at her. “You okay, need a healer?” In the chaos of the mauling, some things seemed to be overlooked, and if the girl said she was fine, Remy wouldn’t say another word and slip back to his place…and if she did say she needed one, Remy wouldn’t be opposed to carrying her off the sands.
Still…he isn’t a hero.
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kireon
Candidatemaster
kirct[M:-191]
Posts: 739
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Post by kireon on Mar 24, 2013 19:45:29 GMT -5
A second brown entered the sands, marked also with pale stripes... and looked rather fuzzy, unless pain had made Raxeris' vision wavery or the heat of the sands was causing some sort of wavery illusion. He was massive, like the one that was still savaging in the Stands, but lankier in build. The temperment was also rather different, as he wasn't a savage little bastard like the other right off the bat- unless the eye color was a lie. Rax tensed when, yet again, the brown turned its eyes to Shino- and the chirp was an indicator that maybe a repeat of the encounter wasn't going to happen.
And then the eyes went red.
And never mind, first impressions mean nothing. The blue eyed Candidate thought with an exasperated growl. He managed to go directly under his mother's belly, between her legs and launched himself up to... sink his fangs into the other brown's throat.
What?
"By the shell of the first egg, what is going on?" Rax spluttered, breaking his own vow of silence at the sheer absurdity and chaos going on in the stands. Four pissed off wher, three of them wherets, were up there all in a tangle and what- how did hatchings like this happen? Who even- how did handlers even deal with these?
I can't tell if I'm impressed by the level of control and training it obviously takes to control something like that or if I'm shocked that we even train them in the first place. The boy from Igen Hold just stared, flabbergasted.
The crack that echoed, however, and crunch of bone was sickening, and some of the color faded from Rax's face as a result. The brown, the one trying his best to kill the herder up in the Stands, was no more. Limp from his mother's mouth and flapping bonelessly about when Damask had to shake the other brown off of him, in a blood rage so it looked to him, he almost laughed in a helpless manner as the red thumped the living brown multiple times with a paw. He'd seen female felines do that to a kitten, slap them down or swat them to the side playfully.
And then Damask made her way back down to the Sands with the body still locked tightly in her jaws. He just gaped, stunned. Was that how Sian had felt? Right before she was attacked during that insanity? Maybe I took a blow to the head. That would explain the stunned, dumb feeling.
A squeal from the sands caught him again, looking up to see the other browl reeling away, falling on to another person and getting himself stuck somehow in the stands. How- never mind. I don't want to know. I don't, I truly don't. This was absolutely madness. There needed to be rules for wherets and dragonets to follow, he decided. Some guideline about not practically killing other people unless their lives are endangered first.
Or their bonded, maybe if their bonded was in danger, then they could go berserk.
What the- that's not a wher. There is no way that's a wher. Go- That's a GOLD?! Damask had been huge even by his standards, Yuri's green was even bigger than he'd initially thought, looking at her as she stood by and watched over the events. But... but that Gold? Even the large, broad man there was insignificant compared to her.
This hatching was turning into more of an educational experience than he ever could have imagined. I'm definitely going to lie down after this, I have a load-of-dung quota and it was filled roughly right after I got bit, thank you very much.
He just hoped the damned hatching's chaos was done and over with, that way the rest of the little beasts could Impress upon their bonded and everyone sane could go back to bed and hope to Faranth that there would be no more of that nonsense until the next hatching.
Another egg broke, revealing the form of a rather impressive blue who seemed entirely satisfied with the way things had turned out- as if it had planned the entire thing.
He felt sorry for whoever bonded to that one.
**
Two! Two brown, bad! Bad! Yusk was more than a little alarmed, pacing frantically back and forth, rearing back occasionally on to her hind legs to get a better view of what was going on. Bad brown, and now other brown had gone and attacked the first bad one. Good brown and bad brown maybe? Maybe? Yusk didn't know, it looked like it- and then it was over.
She dropped to her legs, warbling fretfully at the echo of bones snapping. She slunk to Yuri, eyes wide and alarmed, though sad in their own ways. Damask take care.[/i] The pale green told him sadly. Bad egg no more.
I know, her handler replied quietly, rubbing her head and down her neck gently. I know. Damask had to, or he would have killed others if he had gotten away. He also felt the pang, if only there had been a candidate for the wheret. But there was a second brown, and a- well, not a green, as that little one seemed rather intent on never leaving the gravely injured man's side. And more eggs, he comforted himself in that. There were two more eggs on the sands, one of which emptied to be a rather pretty blue.
Like color![/i] Yusk tried to cheer Yuri up as Damask passed them by with the body of the dead wheret. Blue baby good baby?[/i]
He hoped so, he certainly hoped so- Kalesk didn't seem too concerned with the other brown, dropping him to the sands like a second mother to the previously stuck wheret. Please Impress, little one, please. That way, there wouldn't be another death.
**
Cilia and Cilisk both braced themselves for action, the bronze a mere hint of approval away from launching himself into action himself as a true king should in such dire times. Especially when that second brown showed up. Approve. Second Brown understand not acceptable attack Stands.[/i] Cilisk rumbled, pleased to see a brown of sense and action taking part. He wished for that brown to impress a fine partner worthy of his potential.
The first brown, the mad one, was put down by his mother. Cilisk's rumbling stopped, and though he was relieved there would be no more threat... there was a part of him conflicted about it. ...Cilisk not like young life lost,[/i] he confided to Vresk and Cilia alike. it necessary this time, still not like.[/i]
Cilia's mouth twisted in a bit of a wry smile, her hand reaching up to stroke his neck in her own silent show of support and comfort to the bronze. She suspected he liked little ones, given how he tended to regard Shino favorably and had been incredibly curious and almost uncharacteristically excited about attending the hatching.
But the sight of the newly hatched brown in Damask's mouth was rather sobering. That might be us one day. Having to carry the body of someone they had to put down, to carry them back for the weyr to properly deal with and make a report on. For a moment, Damask's form, in Cilia's eyes, turned into Cilisk, and the body of the brown into-
No. She thought vehemently to herself, leaning on the bronze to take the same sort of comfort as she'd given to him. They would find another way. Somehow. That wasn't always the answer.
Blue hatch. Be like Lyrsk, maybe.[/i] Cilisk announced, having torn his eyes from Damask and refocused on those still among the living. Thanks to Kalesk, the brown was back on the Sands and should Impress, if he was as full of potential as he believed the little one was.
The green had impressed to the injured man, Cilisk had checked where her whereabouts were and approved. Green bonded to injured.[/i] He informed the others sitting with him, sounding pleased. Green keep him living, make him strong again. Good wheret.[/i][/size]
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Ruin
Wingrider
ruinct[M:-786]
We build the worlds we wouldn't mind living in
Posts: 1,137
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Post by Ruin on Mar 24, 2013 20:50:28 GMT -5
Chaos did not come close to the feelings swirling around inside of his head. He held the panicked anger of over a dozen individual minds, even those that weren't there were making an impression on him. With eyes closed, attempting to keep the Brown from tearing out his throat, he could see flashes of his own broken body, the swathes of branded skin ripped away exposing muscle below, the gathering crowd, the approaching Red clutchmother. Then he saw more, lake fronds, cold frost covered stone, and the Bowl too low to be anything other than a pillie. From the depths his beasts were called to his aid, all save for Cojak. The mutt was probably doing his best to protect the beasts in the pens, unaware of what was happening to his owner.
That was just fine as far as Sebolaren was concerned, which was rather silly, considering he was currently bleeding out every last drop of his life onto the hewn stone. Yet here he was, assaulted by flashes of viewpoints that weren't his, when slowly he became certain that all he wanted was to sleep, and forget. Hadn't he endured enough? Hadn't he fought long enough? Nothing ever seemed to change, he would rise up only to be kicked back down again; he would work to better himself, only to have it rendered moot by undiscovered failings. Even now they were probably whispering about how quickly they could toss him from the Weyr, should he survive, for the disgusting marks on his arm that painted him as unfit. As if his actions hadn't proven so time and again. There were others now, he saw through firelizard's eyes, Atenna was safe, and Delilah was there, and...Q'sis.
Something in him told him that the tall Tanrider should have caused suspicion, but that was silly, wasn't it? Hadn't they painted together? Didn't they mend their white robes and debate the finer points of survival...or...maybe they had been debating women. Women's work? The dragonless man's mind spun away in confusion as Q'sis bid him to send his firelizards away, why would they? Should they? The Brown's breath was hot on his throat, and he felt his resolve slipping as his one good arm began to lose the strength to push against his assailant. G'dan was there, and Delilah, he could see them, facets of them, millions of shimmering pieces of them dancing through his mind. The only one missing was Day'ar, but he would not subject his close friend to such a terrible sight, even for the sake of seeing him one final time before darkness claimed him.
As Galibra bit into the glowing orb of the wher's eye, she buried herself face first into those shining facets and dug, chewing her way through the spilling ocular fluids until her teeth and claws were raking at bone. But her prize was lifted up, and she was jarred free, slipping loose of the creature's skull and falling back onto Sebol's broken body a mass of reflective flakes and slick oozy remnants. Hissing, she scrabbled across her human's ruined arm, nosing into the furrows sliced through his flesh, lapping freely at his blood as she went. He was hers, and this was unacceptable. Her slithering did not stop until his shoulder, where she swiftly wound herself beneath his arm and coiled tightly against his pale bloodless flesh, forming, for all intents and purposes, a tight tourniquet, though her reasoning was far less intelligent. He was hers, and she was holding tightly to what was hers, ready should another beast attempt an attack. Settled there, she began drinking from his damaged flesh, gathering strength for her next assault and cleaning up that which might attract other predators to a fresh kill.
Sebol hissed himself, at the pain the tunnelsnake caused in her effort to staunch the bleeding, or protect him, or, whatever was happening, and then he grunted. A third weight had joined the first and second, and it flattened the Brown to him, momentarily preventing his assault, stopping the tearing and rending of flesh. Then, as quickly as it had seemed to begin, it was over, over for the Brown at least. He was lifted clear by Damali's monstrously large Red, and his life was snuffed out. He saw it through the eyes of his firelizards, but heard it for himself. The wher was limp and lifeless, and all was done...over. The Journeyman sighed, his uninjured arm collapsing across his blood-soaked chest as the will to fight gave out at last, his head lolling back against the stone, his eyes closed to the world, uncaring. Above him, his fair stilled, their frenzied cries changing to keening wails as the threat was removed and they were left to worry over their beloved man, each landing in turn and jostling for space on what was left of his jacket.
Before anyone could come to his aid he was blanketed in a swath of leathery colours, some that shimmered, most that didn't, but all that vibrated with the effort of expressing their emotions. Their wedged heads dragged across his exposed flesh, staining their soft hides with his bright blood, and leaving trails of crimson wherever they roamed. Like tiny furnaces they fanned him with their warmth and cried for him, bombarding him with frenzied images that made no sense, and only caused him to wince from the pain of sorting through the tumult. All the noise, all the sounds, the chaos, it was too much. Couldn't they just let him sleep? Couldn't they leave him to die in peace? Hadn't he suffered enough at the hands of this Weyr? Would they not allow him one final service? Perhaps Damask could come and end him as well, how easy it would be...Sesk need Sebol The man winced away from the words, his fingertips twitching as if he wanted to push them away physically.
From where he stood and watched, Bif nodded grimly to that audible breakage of the Brown's body, his eyes following Damask's progress back to the stands. Taking note of Kalesk's removal of the second Brown from the stands, the young man felt more confident that, at least for now, the worst was over, and that Dizzy was safe, for the time being. Keeping well out of the way of the Healers and the work they would need to do, noting also the apparent Impression of the ruined man, Bif worked his way down to the stone wall that dropped off to the sands below. Peering over, his eyes met those of his wher, and a brave smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. Bifrosk snorted softly, lifting up on his hind legs until Bif could just press his fingertips to his Brown's soft muzzle. Bad gone, Bif safe, Damask cull though often fearful, Bifrosk's eyes were flashing crimson in the dim barely-lit shadows of the cavern, had Bif been in any danger at all, he was certain that his wher would have braved even the tallest part of the cavern to save him.
Lifting his eyes from his bonded, Bif quested for his uncle, and Shino. Both seemed to be fine, or as fine as they could be given the circumstances, though compard to the pooling blood down the way, anything was a step up from that absolute destruction. While Dizzy liked to clamber on his back for her own personal happiness, he wasn't sure if he would be letting her down anytime soon, at least not until the hatching was over. Then she could attend to her friend, and he could attend to his own brave, yet shaken, Bifrosk. Across the way, Yrsavild had not anticipated the death of the wheret, least of all at the hands of its own mother, but she was filled only with a supreme feeling of satisfaction at the outcome. Many would consider the lives of one man far below the life of a bonding creature of a Weyr, but the clutchmother considered her child incapable of a bond that would serve in any capacity. Yet in the end, the dying man was chosen by the Green wheret who had come to his aid straight from the shell, and before the Dragonhealer could stir to Sebolaren's aid, Delilah was there. It wouldn't do to crowd one dying man, nor could every Healer leave at once for one life, not when there were injuries to be tended.
Delilah outranked her in many ways, including years of study, so Yrsavild nodded, and seceded, moving with purpose to the stairs in the Red wher's wake, and returning to the Healer's camp on the sands. Though she had touched nothing, she was compelled to rewort her arms to the elbows, shaking them out from the mild stinging as the stain reapplied and rendered her skin impervious to the effects of numbweed. Wher hatchings. Some things never did change, but she had come to a place that did not promote mindless murder, she could find a measure of solace in that. Her eyes wandered to Shino who cowered with the Redhandler on the sands. Earlier she would not have agreed that Shino was safest on the sands, but now, with mutilation occurring in the seats, Yrsa was reconsidering her position. Damali had been correct, perhaps they all should be so lucky as to find protection behind a clutcher during her hatching.
Please, he entreated, but the voice persisted in his head. No, he winced away from it again, but it pushed on into his mind, wiggling into the dark corners that housed all of his pain, setting off a chain of agonizing memories and emotions that overwhelmed him. No, the voice pleaded, was it Sicriath? A tear pooled in the corner of his face and fell away, turning crimson as it mixed with flecks of blood splattered on his cheek. I am dying, Sicriath, I have lost...too much blood I- blood no more the voice interjected, and the supposed masculinity melted away to a pained and panicked femininity. Sesk here, it insisted, and that voice filled more of that hole inside him, painfully burning away hateful darkness and long-carried agony. Sesk, he asked, his eyes wavering, opening, but rendered sightless from uncontrollable tears spawned by hurt or...something else.
Sesk protect she said, and his fingertips strayed further, finding something warm and trembling pressed against him. It was not small, like the firelizards that coated him, nor was it cool and silky like the tunnelsnake that twined so tightly around his arm. Sesk he repeated, blinking away the water that clouded his vision, while trying to shake away the agony that clouded his mind. Finally, after ages, he could see, Delilah, her hands stained red and pressed to his torn flesh. Sebol's stormy grey eyes followed her hands, to his destroyed arm, and the reality of what he had lost...but gained. His brand was gone, not a scrap remained of it, his arm had been flayed so neatly it was as if that had been the intention but...please and his eyes wandered lower, bleary and confused, and found the roiling facets of a wheret, pressed so deeply to his body that they could have been one and the same, save for the stark different between green hide and pale flesh.
Sesk he said, his lips parting to croak the word out audibly as he spoke it. As he met those large luminescent eyes, they seemed to explode. A rainbow of colours seemed to spin from every corner, battling against worried greys, and swallowing the angry crimsons into the fold. My Sesk, he cooed at her, and she wiggled closer, her mouth parting as her tongue snaked out to lap at the ruin that was his arm, painting her blue tongue red with his blood and cementing their bond as only a wher could. As she drank from him, she flooded into that broken hole inside of him, cascading into the cracks and crevices that had been broken into his soul so many turns ago. It was agonizing, in its own way, but the pain brought with it a love so deep and endless that he could focus only on the creature that he cradled to his broken body.
Galibra considered this new creature who fed from what was hers, her eyes glinting dangerously, but she was not as oblivious to Sebolaren's emotions as she seemed. She sensed a change in him, in a way that only a snake could, a shifting of power: One predator to another, she could accept this wher. My Sesk he repeated, and the Green wiggled even closer, crawling beneath his uninjured arm until he could cradle her fully, the blanket of firelizards shifting to encompass her. Sebol stay, love Sesk! Sesk heal. Sebol safe! Safe he echoed, and the Green crooned, craning her head around to peer at Delilah and the Healers. Sebol want Sesk. Sebol stay. Fix. and her long tail lashed out against her human's legs, implying that if they did not comply, she would find other ways than asking to assure that what she commanded was done.
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Maggie
Pridesecond
magct[M:-95]
Posts: 555
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Post by Maggie on Mar 24, 2013 21:37:35 GMT -5
Genner watched dispassionately as Damask culled her wild baby. He had less sympathy for murderous babies and he appreciated when the whers dealt with their own instead of humans doing the culling. Somehow it seemed right. Or more right than humans killing them seemed, anyway. Gennesk had a small burst of sadness, in his mind. He as glad the wher had elected not to come. And he was glad that the little green had Impressed the man she had been defending. She would be a good, strong wher and a good addition to any pride, when she was older, provided her chosen handler pulled through. He sincerely hoped the man did pull through.
Tamarine helped hold Iola up, her arm slipping down to stay firmly wrapped around the girl's waist. "You're going to be fine, it's almost over," she murmured quietly, not wanting to call attention to them both. She winced as Damask culled her too-wild son, but let out a sigh as it seemed that the green Impressed. Hopefully her chosen would pull through. She had to trust the healers that he would. The fuzzy brown seemed... Cute in a dangerous kind of way. She wondered what the fuzzy-looking hide felt like to the touch. And then came a blue, like her aunt's Task. She smiled a bit, thinking about the cranky blue. Hopefully this one would être more even-tempered. Hopefully no one else would be hurt, though she doubted it.
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RavenSong
Jr. Weyrleader
songct[M:-364]
Posts: 710
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Post by RavenSong on Mar 24, 2013 22:24:33 GMT -5
K'var winced slightly as the wheret was killed. Well, there was another reason not to ever let weyrlings in his care into a wher hatching, ever. He'd been totally right. He hoped Sebolaren would live. He'd known the man as a Candidate, had been around when Sicriath died, had seen the man in passing as he became a herder. He knew those flits in passing, some of them had Chased his fat green Bip. To see him shredded like that was harsh.
When the other brown went towards Varkyr, he felt something in his stomach, or his chest, he wasn't sure where, just drop.
"No!" he whispered. He started for his son as the brown got tangled in Varkyr's clothing, but the gold wher beat him to it. K'var kept moving, though, wrapping his arms around Varkyr in what ended up being a heartfelt, grateful embrace.
"Are you hurt?" he asked, pulling back. He glanced fearfully down at Varkyr's body, worried that his son had been lacerated as badly as Sebol. Looking over the boy, he was quite pleased to see only a few scratches, some clearly needing sutures, but nothing nearly as bad as the wounds Sebolaren had received. "Let's get you to a Healer... wonder if there's one who isn't focused on Sebolaren right now." He looked around, signalling to the wherhandler he'd heard giving orders. She signalled back, and he nodded.
----
Pel was darkly gratified when the rampaging brown was killed. Nodding, she settled back in, trying to set an example for the others. She looked around to see if there was anyone who needed a Healer's immediate attention yet remained unnoticed. Seeing K'var's signal, she waved him over.
"There should be spare Healers just over there, but I'd suggest the Infirmary if you're willing to leave the Sands," she said.
---
Naras winced when the brown was culled. Were whers really so senseless? Maybe his daughter had been right. Maybe his love of these creatures was as unfounded as she claimed. Stunned, the Master Harper just sat there like a stone.
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Azhdarchid
Jr. Weyrwoman
azhct[M:-1490]
Totes.
Posts: 1,627
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Post by Azhdarchid on Mar 24, 2013 23:25:20 GMT -5
Q'sis saw the verminous flash of a tunnelsnake launch off Sebol's body, dark and treacherous. As it plunged into the wheret's wet eye, his own vision broke into a sluggish, dream-like rendition of the scene. He saw the end before it hit, saw the newborn writhing, vigorous, healthy but for its newly blotted eye. This scene recycled the same revue of sounds rather than lending itself to the full din of the cavern: the light breaths of the brown, curdling with pain, the burrowing squelch of teeth and claws and worming bodies into his flesh, and finally the compression of bone and organ in the jaws of the red monstrosity, Damask. The man they'd tore the brown from flew out of focus, and Delilah was only a cord of blonde flashing towards him. Q'sis saw the metamorphosis of the squalling baby to a dead lump, down to the final futile twitch of a paw in belated flight.
When he came back to himself, a static ring in his ears, a fuzz of blindness caught somewhere in the center of his eyes and peeling back to reality only along the edges...he was sitting. On the bench. No one had been sharing the space with Delilah and L'kie, or they had wisely made way when too many tall men started clouding up the row.
"She does not have the right, he is only dragonless scum-" he started, but felt something wet clogging his words, and only dragonless came out finite. He had his hands wrapped around his head, dropped one now and touched his lip. When he pulled it back, he saw something clear and shining on the glove leather. Of course. He had not eaten anything in a while. It must have only been a few seconds, because he registered that Kalenna had said something to him just a moment ago. L'kie was standing a few feet further ahead of him than he had been, and Kalenna too- Q'sis did not look up to check if she had glanced his way. He must have made a tactical withdrawal from his position at the vanguard to keep either of them from noticing. If it had worked. A shaking hand drew a cloth from his belt, and a still one pressed it over his mouth. He looked down at the space between his feet, but there wasn't more than a whisper of weakness in evidence.
He got up, swallowing down the nausea associated with the change in his blood's balance. Damask had gone with the corpse; it was safe to look. "How could you make that mistake again?" he wondered aloud, looking at the green patch over the monster's shredded arm. His lips coiled, eyes still matched green for green- but Kalenna. He had not replied to her yet. He did not really care to.
But all traders knew to keep up appearances.
"Sure. Let us wait till all the red is out. He will be a cleaner move that way." He finally bothered to look at Kalenna. "It surprises me how you women lecture about Hatchings, yet it turns out you know no more about hatchlings than anyone. Was your Kalesk so weak when she was new from the egg?" He shambled a step closer, resting a hand on L'kie's sharp spoke of a shoulder, almost putting his weight on it. His other hand crossed to the bags on the healer's belt, tearing the string seams to get at the contents. He knew just the right bag to pilfer. There was another pinkrider with Delilah, he noticed her just now, but she was not his concern: "Don't get sappy you stupid girl," he snarled at the more familiar of the healers. He threw a couple rolls of bandages at her back, both probably destined to lose their first few feet to the blood on the ground. "Stop using your hands. Tie him up. Then make way for me."
It kept threatening its way back: the blindness, the squealing ring. He thought he could look at Sebol's caved abdomen and it would go away, but his eyes kept flicking to the empty spot a couple rows down, the red prints of giant red paws stained on the benches. His hand left L'kie's shoulder and went to its more habitual rest on the hilt of his beltknife, and he retained his sentinel over the bloodbath. "And make sure those sharding firelizards are gone."
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Ondine
Jr. Weyrleader
ondct[M:-155]
Posts: 436
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Post by Ondine on Mar 25, 2013 0:07:36 GMT -5
Shino's eyes remained locked on the bloodshed, trembling lightly under Damali's hand, but as time passed and she watched Damask begin to approach the fight, and as the new brown hatched with much kinder eyes, she began to still herself. Her foster mother was still gripped with intensity, and tears still seeped from her eyes, but they began to slow. Damask would end this suffering, and normalcy would return...or so she hoped. She kept one fist on the destroyed plushie, wishing that it were whole, and her lip quivered as she watched as Sebol shed more blood.
At least the new brown, the one that had looked at her with kind eyes and looked kinda fuzzy, joined the fray and defended her herder friend, the one who lifted her up to reach the things that she couldn't get to on her own. And then...and then she watched, unblinking and with eyes red with crying, as Damask ended her offspring. Her hand trembled on Damali's skin, the only sign that it had affected her, and she looked down for a moment. But he had deserved to die, for that much pain, she didn't know that he would make up for all that pain by impressing to someone. He seemed more...more wild.
More vicious than any of her wher friends. “Thank you Damask.” The words were whispered, but would reach the red through her handler. Kalesk was there now, that great huge wher, and fetched the good brown back down. But the green wasn't leaving Sebol, maybe he had impressed? Maybe? Hope rose in her chest, and she smiled, bright and painful against her tears. He needed to live...the healers might be able to save him. There were plenty here, including Ondine, who had saved her during the plague and was so famous. Surely one of them would save him...
The yellow egg hatched, a blue trotting out of it as though he had planned the whole thing as his entrance. Her eyes burned as she watched him, and she wiped her eyes of her tears. Maybe the brown would be kinder than his brother. Maybe the blue would be stable, and even handed, and...and...and there wouldn't be any more blood than what was needed for bonding. She breathed in, out, and tried to relax. Where was Damask, she needed her wher momma back.
-------
Delilah was faster, but only barely, than Ondine, who sprinted for the stands. Shards, shards, shards, that was bad. At least he wasn't on the sands, where the wounds would cook, and sand would get into the bloody strips of torn flesh. But that was cold and distant comfort, and she was glad that she had the presence of mind to grab her pack before she took off, just in case. Hopefully that vicious little beast would be put down, or impress...
It turned out that his mother was having none of it, and broke him before either of them could arrive, hearing that violent roar in her mind from Damask as she hurried. Delilah was there first, and with Kalenna there to handle the people around, they would have a clear area to work and get him away from here. She blinked at the green wherlet that was clutching him and his wounds, at the vast fair around him, and the...tunnelsnake with bloodied fangs. Already an interesting scene, but at least they all seemed to be under his control, and the green was...quite protective.
She looked at Delilah. “I'll assist. Come on, let's keep him from bleeding out.” She took out surtures, stitches and a jar of clean water, keeping one eye on the green wherlet...and then jerked her head up as a man started speaking, and threw a roll of bandages as the other pinkrider. Her hand whipped up and caught the roll barely, fingers barely holding onto the wrappings, and she stared as Q'sis for a moment. Why was he trying to order healers around, and speaking like that? Her voice was flat, and somewhat distracted. “Q'sis, leave. We don't need you to move him, you're not a healer, and you're not helping. We need a stretcher, not a person, and we have one.”
That done, she shut out the distractions as best as she could, beginning to clean out his wounds in preparation for the sutures that would keep his flesh whole. “Sebol, Delilah and I are here. We're going to stop your bleeding and get you to the infirmary.” Time to staunch the bleeding, and not think about whether Sebol's arm would need to be removed. With luck...with a bit of skill...there would be no need for amputation. For everyone's sake. After that, they could find his shredded skin, and the masters and journeymen could try to graft them back.
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Kalet watched with a blank face as the man was savaged. That looked painful as shards, and he could only hope that the man did survive. This hatching seemed to be brutal and chaotic, with a violent brown, a much...fuzzier brown, but this one had blue eyes. At least, for a moment it did, and the Journeyman flinched as his eyes went bloody red. That didn't last long, why did he get angry? In another moment he was hurtling towards the stands, and into the fight...to deal with his brother.
Interesting that all of the violent brown's siblings, and mother, were fighting to deal with them. That spoke volumes about the rest of the clutch, and their temperments. Once the brown was dealt with...and the man winced as he heard that crunch. Dealt with indeed, one brown that would never feel the kiss of the night. Effective though, that kind of brown would never make a good wher, at least in his opinion. Not with that temperament...he sighed, and watched as the green stayed up in the stands. Impressing, or something else? The...
...he had been aware of how large whers could be, but seeing Kalesk was something else entirely. He took a step back instinctively from that great gold, glancing around to see if anyone else agreed with that feeling. That was not something he ever wanted to run into on a dark night, not even Damask made him feel that afraid. Shards, she was impressive. And, apparently, taking charge. Well, if she wanted to take charge, anyone who was sane would back down and let her do so. With the good brown coming back to the sands...and a blue hatching, perhaps this hatching would stop being quite so chaotic. He breathed in and out, trying to return to that calm state he had been in at the start, and eyed the last egg with some suspense. What might come out of that one, or was it a dud?
-------
Lyrsk growled at the bad brown, but approved mightily of Damask's decision. One could be lenient, but that wherlet would never improve. Prowling over to his daughter the downed man, he eyed the green. Newly impressed, and if they survived, they would be in the class under him. Lyrnn arrived a few moments later, nodding at Kalenna and eying Q'sis for a moment. What was this Dragonrider doing here? And what was he doing, speaking like that to Kalenna? Or to the healers there were there. The man was a Dragonrider, to be fair, but this wasn't his territory at all.
And then one of the two healers spoke up, and that settled it. He nodded to the two healers currently working on the man, “Let me know if you need anything. Everyone who isn't a healer or someone they request, clear out, let them work.” That included him as well, so he backed up. Kalenna could countermand that, of course, because she was Betahandler, but this was his new Wherling as well. His eyes met with Kalenna's, and he gave her a slight nod. If she needed help with anything, he'd give it.
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Cathaline
Lady Holder
cathct[M:50]
Posts: 3,279
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Post by Cathaline on Mar 25, 2013 0:28:01 GMT -5
Delilah barely even registered Q'sis's insults; those were water off a duck's back, always, just a part of who he was, nothing to get upset about. What did upset her was him trying to order her about. No doubt he thought he knew all there was to know about healing, but he did not. She might be only an apprentice still, but she was trained for a situation such as this. She would have been grateful to have a journeyman or Master hovering over her shoulder, but Q'sis? No.
Anger flashed across her face, and Agnith would have been on him in seconds, had it been necessary. It was not. Kalenna said evenly, "Leave my sands, or Kalesk will drag you." If he wanted an explanation, he could have it later, but it was an easy choice to make. That was her wherling up there. Whatever Sebolaren had been in a past life, he belonged to the program now. The healers were under enough strain as it was; the last thing anyone needed was Q'sis trying to backseat-drive them. He could not be trusted to shut his mouth, particularly when there were women around to disparage, so. Out he went.
Kalesk would be all too happy to comply, and her talons flexed against the sand as she stepped closer to him. She had never liked or trusted Q'sis, and nothing would please her more than to grab him. He was a large man, but not much of a match for the gold; no human was, and he couldn't even fight back. Fighting the Weyr's gold would be all but a death sentence, even for a dragonrider.
Kalenna would get rid of him, so Delilah could concentrate now. She stripped off her outer tunic, one-handed, and used it to staunch the bloodflow on the portions of Sebol's anatomy that Ondine was not working on. Her knife flashed, and she divested Sebol of his bloodstained shirt with its blade, leaving them more room to work. The lacerations were ugly, but none should be fatal, barring the threat of infection. His arm might be lost, however. They needed to get him to the infirmary as quickly as possible once the bleeding stopped.
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Chek
Weyrlingmaster
chekct[M:-15]
I'm so magical I vomit rainbows
Posts: 1,091
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Post by Chek on Mar 25, 2013 1:14:24 GMT -5
L'kie ducked out from under Q'sis's hand and joined his fellow healers around the possibly dying and new-fledged wherling, his face sickly white under his scowl. This was all too familiar to him, a new green-impressed wherling bleeding out after a vicious mauling. Still, the girls were doing good, very good, so he kept his hands away to let them work, instead angling to look at the damage to Sebolaren's arm, “Good, keep going. Stabilize him so we can move him – it's bad, but if you're quick we can salvage the arm,” As he spoke, he was already uncoiling a sterilized length of hide and beginning to gather up shreds of flesh that littered the stone, turning up his nose at those marked with ink, preferring instead to gather every last scrap of intact clear skin that he could. Below, Damask stepped past her blue child as he made his way towards the Candidates – the red glanced meaningfully at her youngest, and the blue dipped his head in acknowledgment of his mother's silent warning – as if with the corpse in her mouth he needed any more warning. Mauling wasn't his intent, though. He sidled up to Kalet and sniffed at the Candidate thoughtfully, before moving on, nosing at Tius's fake hand with interest – the large Smith offering it politely when the wher showed nothing more than the desire to look – and then moving on to nose Iola's bloody knee thoughtfully. Along the way, he passed his brown brother, now gathering himself up from his unexpected trip in Kalesk's mouth. His face hurt! He drug his face through the sand, but it really didn't help – in fact it made him hurt more. He whined, and stumbled in the direction of the red blur that was his mother. Damask dropped the body of the brown next to her last remaining egg – she glanced over at Shino and rumbled soothingly, but there was more she had to do before she could cuddle her last hatchling. Damali squeezed Shino's shoulders, “The worst is over, precious, Damask will be back to us in just a moment, and Sebol with be fine. He will be fine. He has... a new wher to take care of and he hasn't reported his progress with his tunnelsnake yet.” Damali was breathing deeply, quickly, dancing on the thin edge of control of her emotions. The worst – almost the worst – had happened, and her red had kept her vow. There would be time to break down later, but for now – control. Sebolaren was not Delgar. His green was not Dsk. They were both alive. Damask tipped her head down to her last egg, listening intently. She withdrew her head, and smashed forward, knocking a hole into the shell – egg goo oozed out of the hole as the red investigated the innards. Damali sighed at the same time Damask shook her head and moved to curl up around Shino, “It's a dud.” Across the Sands, still steadily heading towards his mother, the brown misjudged a step and face planted into the sand, yelping when the sand once again stung his gouges. He whined unhappily and twisted his face... and came up against something soft. He regained his feet, distracted from his pain for the moment, and opened up his jaws to take the second half of Shino's murdered plushie into his mouth. A goal in sight, he bounded across the Sand, skidding to an abrupt half st Damask's warning snarl. He dropped low and crept forward; humble enough that wary Damask allowed his approach, and he very carefully deposited the second half of the plush wher next to the one in Shino's hands. And then he stared at it hopefully. It didn't magically reassemble, and he let out a mournful sound which could only be described as a honk. Shinsk thought would work. Sorry sister, no miracle. The brown oozed forward, depositing his head in his sis's lap, Not soft, but still cuddle? Shino be Shinsk's favorite miracle, not want sad.Impressed: Shino Name: Shinsk Hex: 503c31 Personality: Shinsk is a laid back, easy-going and affectionate wher... until you upset his sis, that is. He views Shino as his true sister rather than just as his handler, and he obeys her out of a deep and abiding love. He tends to not really seek understanding of the world, preferring to take things as they come, and greeting things he does not understand with a cheerful cry of “Miracle!”
Just because he is not very understanding of the way the world works does not make him stupid; no, Shinsk has a very solid grasp on the abstract and is prone to moments of deep wisdom – before, of course, he gets distracted trying to touch specks of light or something similar. Despite his size, Shinsk is always going to be capable of fitting into surprisingly small spaces, and tending towards being alarmingly stealthy for such a large creature.
As mentioned, Shinsk... does not deal well with anything upsetting his sister, tending to go berserk until his target is mauled into bloody death or he is physically and psychically restrained – luckily, at least with Shino, he won't need much restraint – her touch is enough to sooth him. Damask bugled her approval and Damali slapped a hand to her face, laughing helplessly.
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Ondine
Jr. Weyrleader
ondct[M:-155]
Posts: 436
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Post by Ondine on Mar 25, 2013 2:50:38 GMT -5
Shino wiped away the last of her tears, nodding as Damali spoke. Yes, soon, Damask would be back. Even if she were dragging a corpse with her right now. Now that she wasn't freaking out herself, she could focus on other things...like how much Damali was breathing. Once her hand stopped trembling, she tried to make it a comfort herself. Maybe her momma was having troubles because of the hatching? Shino might not know how to comfort other that well, but she could at least try to hold them, and try her hardest!
The last egg was a dud, both to her sadness and relief, and the little girl sighed, before sniffing. There was drama unfolding up in the stands, but she ignored it in favor of what was on the sands. Sebol...had to be taken care of, that was all. “Uh huh, he'll be fine,” she said with all of the childish optimism that she had, which was quite a lot. After all, she'd nearly died to the plague! He should live, especially with that green with him.
Now that Damask was back, the last egg proven to be a dud, she was back with her protectors and family about her. The blue was much calmer than the dangerous brown had been, and the other brown was...well, his blue eyes were a good sight, and he seemed to be pretty happy. Shino ran a hand along the clutch mother's hide, happy to have her there again. But she watched as the brown stumbled along the sand, tripping into the ruined half of her doll.
And then...to her amazement, picked it up. And then came towards them, although Damask swiftly checked his rush. Was he...returning the plushie for her? That was sweet of him, and she felt a prick of a tear again at the thought. See, not all of them were terrible, right? Damask threw good babies! Even if one of them was bad and had to be put down. The brown crept closer, now subservient or at least humble, and dropped his half into her hands, right next to the half that she held. He looked so sad, for a moment, and let out a mournful...honk. And then...
Shinsk thought would work. Sorry sister, no miracle. [/i] Shino's eyes widened and her jaw dropped open in complete shock as the voice entered her mind, sad and somewhat distant, as though he were vaguely separated from the world, although not distracted. Not soft, but still cuddle? Shino be Shinsk's favorite miracle, not want sad. [/i]
She...what...she stared into his eyes as they danced across the rainbow, swirling with the impact of impression, and found herself unable to summon words forth. His head was in her lap, Damask seemed totally pleased, and Damali was laughing. She had...she kept staring, eyes pricking with emotion, and her heart swelled in her chest until it felt like she was going to burst with feeling. Pride, that she had found her wher, that it had been Damask's clutch. Horror, that she was still so young, too young really to enter the program, and yet with a wherlet that would demand it.
And total adoration and love for the brown that lay in her lap. Another tear slid down her cheek from happiness, and she raised a hand to touch, as though he might vanish if she acknowledged him, like the fading moments of a dream. But he didn't, and his eyes swirled blue again as she did so, Sister no sad, Shinsk be happy. Perhaps Shino find miracle of food for Shinsk? After cuddle. “I...I...” Shino still didn't know what to say, and she looked up helplessly at the older handler to find that she was being proffered a knife.
Oh, right, of course. She knew enough about them to know that there was a blood bond needed, and she didn't think that Shinsk would bite her, ever. As she took the knife, and cut herself on a finger, though, she felt and saw his eyes flash to red for just a moment, before she spoke. “I need you to suck on it and make it feel better.” Kiss and make it feel better was a thing, right? Well, that wouldn't work for a wher, but the brown set at the task with a will, To make sister feel better. Always make feel better.
In moments, he had suckled the blood, and she felt the bond cement in her mind. She marveled, another tear slipping from her eyes, and she felt the urge to laugh hysterically. She didn't know what to do! She wasn't even a candidate. Oh Faranth, how on Pern could she do this? Sha- she nearly thought more bad language, and stopped. Shinsk looked up at her, rubbing his hide into her lap. Audren, she realized, was going to have a fit, and she looked up at Damali again. “What...I don't...um, mom? What should I do?”
To the brown, this was easy. It was the pinnacle of miracles that he was here, with his Shino, and his clutchmate and sister was his. His brother, the first to hurt his beloved, was gone. From now on, the world was to be explored, and enjoyed...and anything that hurt Shino would die. He prodded at her again, happy as can be, minus the hunger in his belly. Always love Shino, can move when ready. Perhaps mom hungry too? Can eat, then cuddle. He was warm, and happy, a soothing bundle of easy-going joy that eased his head farther into her lap, mindful of the great red nearby.
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kireon
Candidatemaster
kirct[M:-191]
Posts: 739
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Post by kireon on Mar 25, 2013 3:15:41 GMT -5
"Holy-" Cilia, for once, was absolutely speechless.
From the dead silence on her bondmate's end, she was guessing the king was in rather the same amount of shock as he confirmed, slowly, that Shino had indeed been chosen by the crying- honking- brown who had gone berserk in a heartbeat at the sight of the torn stuffed wher the little girl had carried with her. Shino Wherling.[/i] He finally managed, sounding about as confused and dumbstruck as the look on his handler's face.
Damali's laughter mingled in with the rather smug sounding bugle from her red, and Cilia felt more than a touch of pity for the poor woman. Audren and Ausk were going to have the mother of all fits about this and she really hoped the woman didn't blame Shino for any of it- or Damali for that matter. It was just a thing that was meant to be; the wher was hatched and Shino was the intended partner.
She looked Vrell, half-torn between joining Damali in the helpless laughter and worrying herself sick about the fate of the little girl down on the sands. "Audren's gonna birth a litter of kittens over this."
Shino smart, will be good handler like Damali and Vresk's.[/i] Cilisk reassured Cilia confidently, though Vresk was let in on it too, knowing how she would enjoy the compliment..
The gray eyed woman narrowed her eyes at the bronze. "What about me?"
The king appared to be thinking rather hard on that, a little too hard to be particularly normal, and the former trace runner glared at the telling glint of blue-green in the bronze's eyes. Cilia getting better, not quite there yet.[/i] He informed her solemnly.
Cilia reached out and bopped the top of his snout in retaliation.
**
Yuri, baby Impressed.[/i] She looked up at Yuri, noticing the shock plain on his face and blinked once, twice and a third time. She nudged his hand, firmly. Shino Impressed, Yuri. Baby is Wherling. She cocked her head, as if listening to some distant sound and tugged at the hem of his shirt in her teeth. Yuri sleep? Yuri sleep stand?[/i]
Yuri was too stunned to be of much use at the moment, or so he believed. The youngest wher candidate of them all. And he couldn't... he hadn't... when had... no, Audren would have told him something if her mind had changed on the subject. Which meant this... this was...
Meant to be.
The three words popped into his head instantly, the Candidatemaster almost sighing as he listened to the echoes of the victorious bugle from Damask. Trust that red to go and surprise everyone. She had been extremely well behaved during Jarith's hatching, and they'd all been particularly nervous about the red sharing the sands with a particularly energetic and happy-people-friendly dragon. Even during this, she'd done nothing to threaten the candidates- scare them when she'd roared and charged, certainly- but no one had been injured by her.
But... Shino? Well, the child was certainly very fond of wher in general, preferring them strongly over dragons as far as he could tell...
A rather strong nip against his leg caused the Candidatemaster to jump, rubbing the affected spot and glanced down to the highly affronted face of his wher. Not nice, Yusk. We don't nip.
She snorted, looking cross still. Baby wants out. Go get?[/i] She pointed in the direction of the stands, much like a hunting canine his brother had.
Green eyes flicked to the sands- and sure enough, one of the Candidates was rather apparently trying to burn holes in his skull, or set him afire, and, upon seeing he had caught the man's attention, gave a quick gesture that signaled he was done and wished to be escorted out.
Oh dear.
**
That was it.
That was one hundred percent it.
He'd had it.
He'd had all the foolishness and rule breaking he could possibly take at that moment. There were no other plans to be made, no other directives to follow- it was time for him to exit this little stage and get to bed right then and there so he could pretend it was all some craptacular dream that was brought about by something he ate, nothing would be real when he woke up and everything would be back to normal.
Except it wouldn't.
Because he'd have a bite on his calf from the dead little beast who'd been so lovingly dropped right next to the large egg that apparently held nothing inside that would need tending to. And that would mean he'd have to see the gorier details of what happened to that newly Impressed man's arm and he really didn't do well with things like that. Blood was not his thing, thank you very much and he wanted none of this nonsense.
That Candidatemaster finally stopped looking like someone had just nailed him in the head with a particularly hefty stone and was looking in his direction. I want off the sands, get me off the sands, get me off the sands right now! How it could possibly take someone that long to get over there was beyond him. Damask was likely preoccupied with the little girl who impressed the second berserker brown so some haste could well be used.
"Are you certa-"
"Yes." Raxeris hissed at Yuri, eyes flashing. "I have never been more certain of anything more in my life. After this night is finished, it will be dragons only- and perhaps not even that." He marched- marched- off the sands with the full intent of heading straight to the few healers available, most preoccupied with the man he swore was probably dying up there, getting his leg tended to and then marching up stairs to sit next to his sister and gripe.
She had her time to rant, it was his turn, damn it.
It went fairly according to plan, Raxeris bowed in thanks to Damask and Damali, as did Yuri, and was escorted to do just as he had wished. Leg disinfected and wrapped with instructions to come see them on the morrow so they could check for signs of infection- and that would be his luck- he headed for the stairs, up and away from the senseless nonsense going on around him. He plopped next to some spot that wasn't occupied by a massive bulky dragon claiming most of the near Sian space and loosed a massive sigh.
Before pointing right at the very opinionated sister of his and beat her to the verbal punch. "Don't you even tell me to march my butt back down there or so help me I am gonna lose it and make the kind of scene my mother was notorious for. I am her son, and by Faranth she has invested that power in me and I will use it." There was finger wagging, no foot stomping yet, but he was rather empathetic in speech and body language at that moment. Said finger jabbed in the direction of the place the herder had fallen and moved back to Sian with another jerky movement. "Did you see the madness happening out there? There were torn toys, children crying on the sands, there was biting and gnashing and roaring and squealing and screaming and charging of nasty little bastards who bite and shred everything in their paths," once Rax was worked up, he was worked up. "I don't even get the courtesy of being able to punch a wher in the snout to assert my authority the way you tried to- which, by the way is more tempting than I thought it was and I don't even like getting into fights like you seem to."
One tiny breath, and he was back to ranting again and back on his feet once more with his hands alternating between fussing with his hair, untying and retying it into its runnertail and expressing some sort of emphasis with the fast paced motion of his hands. "Not to mention people being used as launch stones, did you see that jump? Did you not see that fight? That man is probably dead or dying and that's why that little green keeps crying, there's blood everywhere and did you see the size of that Gold? That's a no way on this side of Pern. Knowing my luck, I'd impress one of those and then where would I be?"
He flopped back into a sitting position, clearly either exhausted or just done ranting for the moment. "Dragons, at least, are supposed to be big. I always thought wher were, you know, large canine sized at biggest. And dragons aren't as likely to bloody well kill and savage you unless someone else has driven them crazy first and you're just in the way. Did you see that little bastard? Just waltzed right up like one of those bullies we knew back at the hold and tried to take that child's fingers along with her toy. Terrible."
The dark haired youth groaned, leaning back to knock his head into the ledge of stone by Sian. "I am not meant for riderhood, or handlerhood, or whatever the term is, Si. I am meant to do... things, the kinds of things I was taught to do." I'm not the trailblazing hero you and your new friends are. He thought privately to himself, not for the first time.[/size]
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Ruin
Wingrider
ruinct[M:-786]
We build the worlds we wouldn't mind living in
Posts: 1,137
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Post by Ruin on Mar 25, 2013 3:37:15 GMT -5
More people, always more, bustling, asking, poking prodding. Even the dim glowlight seemed bright as day to his traumatized eyes. Every flashing image from his fair, every mental word from the wheret latched on to his body, even the cool feel of a snake inside his mind, was agony. It wasn't all bad, though. There was love. So much love, it was almost suffocating in a way. Typically his firelizards didn't have the occasion to love him, only Lila would spend much time showering him with kisses and affection, but now they were all so certain that he was on deaths door, which honestly he probably was, that they felt the greatest urge to let him know how much he was adored, and needed. It made him want to die though. There was too much noise, his heart felt like it was beating from his chest, and no one seemed likely to slow down, least of all the world itself.
But there was something else holding him here now. Keeping the darkness at bay. She was determined, predatory, and loyal, at least he thought she was. There was so much to figure out, and understand. It was so different from what he had known before, how could he have thought she was Sicriath? Still, in his confusion, there were moments where he wondered. While the Healers explored his wound, he explored his wher, his uninjured hand caressing the jagged curves of her square head, the feline-like knobs that graced her head like ears, and the soft spines along her back that almost formed a ruff-like illusion. She was beautiful, leggy, reptilian, and powerful. He saw with his eyes, and those of his firelizards, piecing her together from all angles and vantages. They covered her now, as well as him, she had been shifted further beneath their blanket as Delilah and...the other...began working on him. She didn't seem to mind the mess of creatures on her, but, how much mind were they really paying to things outside of one another?
Not dragon. Better. Stronger. Make Sebol better, stronger. Protect, self no harm, others no harm, Sesk watch always. Sesk watch others, Q'sis' distant voice awoke something in her, a memory of a memory that her new-found Handler had shared with her unwittingly. She was not sure how to process what she was learning without the guidance of Sebolaren's full mind, especially to sort out the dark taint that had strangled his previous turns into a grey apathetic blur. Mottled head turning on its axis, Sesk sought out the tall speaker, nictitating membranes sweeping slowly to cloud the facets below until both colourful eyes seemed to radiate as much light as the fungus balls that were housed in the baskets littering the cavern. Perched there on his man's chest, her jaw gaped open as if she was just waiting for some hapless beast to wander into her mouth, she was picturesque, and it only confused the man beneath her more.
I don't know, I don't remember, he said to her non-question, and was rewarded with a swish of her long tail across his legs. At least it seemed long, was it long? Was it normal. His stomach hurt, his head hurt, but his arm, it was such a fire that he almost didn't even notice anymore, although, there wasn't much there by way of nerves was there. Mostly just the ring of flesh along his collarbone, and down the inside of his arm. That was where the fire burned him, but his stomach. Suddenly he lurched upright, scattering his firelizards in all directions and pulling an angry hiss from Galibra's startled maw. Q'sis had said something, thrown something, in fact he was quite interrupting the proceedings, whatever they were, but that wasn't what it was, that wasn't what drove him. "She's hungry, she needs," he gasped the words out, and though there were hands quickly pressing him down, and Sesk's weight had shifted to his shoulder to help the urging, his face paled and his body went limp back down to the stone. He had nothing left to give, not even for his new charge.
"She's hungry," he repeated from where he lay, arm on fire, stomach cramping, and head spinning. Above him the firelizards winged in tight circles, forcing him to close his eyes lest their dancing colours made him sick or worse. "She's hungry, she's hungry," he repeated, pleaded, hoping someone near enough would care. Sesk rumbled quietly at him, an odd feline-like purr meshed with the guttural cough of a large land predator, and coiled up on his shoulder, pressing her face to his cheek. Sebol's Sesk not die, Sebol die if not let fix. Sesk eat soon. Sebol have plenty time feed Sesk later, not be stupid, not die, then feed. Plan good. Tentatively, the firelizards returned, though this time they settled beside the Wherling, their claws scrabbling on blood-stained stone, leaving pawprints and clawmarks of their own as they stretched toward the man and his new charge.
They weren't the only ones. From the back came noises of disruption, confusion, and perhaps even a few soft chuckles of amusement. It was only a moment later when Vow bustled past the growing throng of two-leggers, skittering his large bulk around most of them, though unquestionably nudging a few in the process. The Brass was large enough on his own, but Green Quest and Brown Pride stuck out like growths from his shiny carapace, increasing his height and width. When he got within range of Sebolaren, his long antenna extended, lightly slapping the man about his face, and poking gently at the green tumor that had sprouted on his shoulder. Once he had ascertained that his human was yet again attempting to die, and that the green thing was actually a new member of their family, he chattered an exasperated sigh and began scrubbing up the blood that coated the stone floor and benches, mindful to keep away from the Healers, which he identified by their nasty smell.
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maruset
Wingrider
marct[M:-420]
Posts: 590
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Post by maruset on Mar 25, 2013 9:01:00 GMT -5
There was a quick bite on her lip to not start laughing as the brown picked the girl who had been standing next to his mother. That should have been something to expect, she supposed. The girl had been quite attached, and the brown was rather cute. Okay, maybe not something to expect, but it seemed to make sense.
The fact the last egg was a dud was a bit sad, but it was not unexpected. Four live eggs out of five from a red was pretty good, if she recalled the lessons properly. But her attention was distracted by the blue that had hatched approaching the candidates.
He was a striking creature, and the way he had hatched had been dramatic in it's own way. So she smiled as he got close, though her nervousness shot up when he paused to sniff her knee. Still, she did not move, waiting for him to decide what he wished to do, though she really, really wanted him to pick her. She knew it would be the blue's choice, but he was a lovely boy, and she really would like him to want her.
So she stayed still, waiting for him to make his decision.
Letorin finished the last sketch, then glanced around. He frowned, noticing the damage to on his roommate. He didn't move, with all the milling around with new green handler, he was afraid of getting in the way, but the look on K'var said it wasn't bad. Or, at least not as bad as it could have been, given their very clear example nearby. He would check more on him later, when things calmed down. Glancing around the stands, he noticed that the brown had Impressed, and the blue was walking around the Candidates. He also noted the last egg seemed to be a dud. So his attention moved to the blue, curious on who he would pick.
And, hopefully, this one would be much less dramatic than the green's Impression.
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Azhdarchid
Jr. Weyrwoman
azhct[M:-1490]
Totes.
Posts: 1,627
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Post by Azhdarchid on Mar 25, 2013 9:59:48 GMT -5
Ondine's brief statement drew Q'sis' gaze upon her, and a modicum of recognition. The Savior of Pern. It was Kalenna's words that proved more interesting. Q'sis looked at her, not at the gold tensing down on the Sands, eyecatching as her threats might be.
"They are not your Sands, Betahandler," he spat back. "And I am not on them."
Yet the tanrider left all the same. The worst part was, he sensed he had offered some brand of assistance. Had Kalenna not been there, he probably could have achieved the rest.
The firelizards would have been removed. Delilah and L'kie could be ushered along to the infirmary to prepare. He stroked his golden knife-hilt spasmodically with his thumb as he reemerged in the cold slap of dawn. The cold whispered to him: even if everything else had gone right, there was still the wheret. Twice now he had been denied by newborns. As he paced in front of the steps, he recited the ideal scene in his mind. Could he have accomplished what he'd set out to do anyway? He prowled the length of the step and back again before he located his resolve, pulses of static still afflicting his eyes and ears.
No.
He knew better than to predict a moment's righteous fury from afar, but he did not think he could have stood a cry from the green. Even if he'd only maimed. Even if it was indistinguishable from the rest of Sebol's agonies. Scorch it. He was able to stop walking, even if the core of his nerves demanded running, battling muscle with senseless stone or bags of soulless objects. He looked on high, to Unath. She had rolled onto her side and fallen asleep. Unath. Lifemates were the ones you could trust. Only, in Q'sis' case...
Unath kept on sleeping.
Q'sis closed all his fingers on the jeweled hilt, then drew it just to give himself the satisfaction of the sound. He glanced down at the white-hot flash of winter sun off the blade, then sheathed it again, only letting out his breath then. He left the Bowl, heading to the stores where someone doubtlessly needed help moving something. Somewhere to find his rhythm again.
Shardit.
***
Tussbuul leaned forward as Damask investigated the final unhatched egg, but there wasn't much surprise in finding out it was dead. All whers had duds, even the queens. It was so routine as to no longer inspire grief, save perhaps in their mothers. Tusk awoke a little at that- or maybe she had been subconsciously spying ever since Billy posted his mental ruckus -and prodded around Tussbuul's head for more information. But she could not piece together what she found in any meaningful (read: threatening) way, and so she dropped back to sleep.
"The blue is awfully pretty," he observed to Billy, the only "person" in a position to respond at the moment. Billy wrinkled his nose. Despite the purported attractiveness of the blue, and the return of the kittenoid brown, Tuss saw one of the Candidates leaving the Sands. Rejecting them, as it were. He had never in his life contemplated the notion of rejecting something after he had set out to accomplish it. That wasn't how Bullies operated. They rammed headfirst into opportunities till they yielded.
So he could wrap his head around this retreat only as much as Tusk could tuck hers onto the notion of eggs. Tuss put his attention back to the Sands and the newborns, but he could still see the evacuee and the bleeding man at the corner of his eye.
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Reky
Alphahandler
rekyct[M:-999]
SO PRO
Posts: 1,554
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Post by Reky on Mar 25, 2013 14:10:21 GMT -5
As of late, Audren had been a very kind and gentle-handed leader. With no notable disturbances since the plague, and with Yalenia and Edison long since graduate, she had an excess of free time on her hands. The Hatching would put a little more paperwork on her plate, but she foresaw it going well and, therefore, foresaw the archival process as quick and easy. When she was not on patrol with Ausk, she often joined others on their rounds, just to keep them company and to stay close with her team. Kalenna, Damali, Lyrnn, and Physicero were often gifted her Auskless presence. Others earned it less frequently, but just as gladly. Audren took pride in her job and in her handlers. They were all fine people. Finally, the shroud of severity that had loomed over her reign while she fixed Ridan's mistakes was dissipating. Audren felt good.
With her calmness came a particular leniency. The Shino situation was one of them, though Audren would have never been so foolish as to deny a red her self-claimed property. Kire and Darryl were given more time to visit their child; Lachan was given more time to spend with his wife, and even given leave to go on vacation every now and then. The last two wherling classes had been strong, and the wher program at Dalibor was doing better than ever. Even Ausk was given some liberties, and the red invented new ways of rending herdbeasts' flesh from bone. While not unexpected, it did frustrate Audren - that the wher sought to bloody all in her path even when everything was going so well.
She obsessed about the wild wher attack that had felled Ridan and Risk. Some days, it kept her awake as she relived it, trying to find a way to change what had happened. A way to save her beloved handlers from being slaughtered; a way to keep a gold's blood out of Ausk's belly. She knew she could not alter the past, though, and so she took up embroidery to while away the sleepless hours. She wondered, sometimes, if her life would be better if she was not attached to the hulking red source of those horrors, but on the rare days that Ausk was receptive to her affections, she forgot all reservations. She had been a redhandler for so long now that she could not imagine a simpler life.
When Damask signalled the hatching of her eggs, Audren was excited. It came with its own brand of apprehension, of course, because hatchling whers were unpredictable, but she felt good about it. When she came to stand at her post, she was dressed in her finest boots, breeches and jacket, the red knots of her rank draped across her shoulder. Her hair was pulled back sleek and tight, though it was already threatening to revert to its flyaway norm. The early morning light had not yet found its way through the half-open ceiling of the cavern, and so the whers' corner was still dark. The Alphahandler's post was not as opulent as the Weyrleaders' and Weyrwomens' bannered ledges, but Audren had no need for fanfare in the darkness. The hulking form of Ausk beside her, she thought with a smile, was all the opulence she needed.
Despite her optimism, though, the hatching was preordained to resuscitate her stress. Her gloved hands tightened into fists as the violence surfaced and progressed. The clench of leather was buried under roars and screams and the panicked flurry of healers, and Ausk growled deep in her chest. Strings of spit roped from the red's maw, but Audren held her firmly back. She knew the nature of whers better than most, and she knew that there was no way to staunch the flow of blood than to let it come to its own natural clot. Furthermore, the hatchlings were Damask's children. The Sands were under the younger red's jurisdiction.
The warpath cumulated on a man in the stands. From where she was, she could not make out his face. The fair of firelizards that blinked in on the defensive made Ausk thrash her tail, giving a territorial snarl, but Audren caught and muzzled her maw under her arm before the red could move forward. Be still, she demanded fiercely, though she kept her arms around the crushing jaws for good measure. Ausk's eyes burned bright red in the dark.
The brown, though, was finally fought away, and Damask put him down with a sound snap. Ausk muscled loose of Audren's firm grip and let out a guttural bark, flinging spittled from her mouth. GOOD, she thundered to the cavern, satisfied to see the feral brown killed outright.
The green bonded to the bleeding man, and Audren was both grateful and upset by it. She intimately knew the violence of whers, and that man would now know that, but also whers' insurmountable love. He was not a candidate, though, and he would have a lot to catch up on. Ausk, snuffling, supplied his and his green's names, and Audren stifled a grimace. All she knew of Sebolaren came from the archives, and they did not paint him in a good light.
The second brown, then, Impressed to Shino, which had been precisely Audren's reservations about the girl's closeness to the clutch. She had turned the child away from her program, but now she had Impressed anyways. It was fuel to Audren's growing headache. The child would be held back in wherlinghood until she was old enough to learn the grittier lessons, and there would be no negotiations. Shino was so small, sensitive, and childish, crying against a woman and a wher that weren't her mothers at all. She was not ready to be a soldier in the night.
Pressing a gloved hand to her temple where the headache gnawed, Audren hoped that the last blue child would have the sensibility to choose someone who had at least been through candidacy. One prepared handler out of the three - that's all Audren wanted. [/blockquote]
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Rii
Wingleader
riict[M:420]
RP demon hungers...
Posts: 803
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Post by Rii on Mar 25, 2013 15:43:44 GMT -5
G'dan sat down in the nearest seat - not his, his was somewhere behind him and he didn't think he could back up if he tried - and stared. Healers were bustling, bandaging, taking care of his dear friend. The little green wheret persistently cuddled against Sebol's side. Sesk, that was the word that Sebol had fumbled out, along with she's hungry. So. So and so and so. They were bonded.
The shy tinkerer laced his fingers together, pressing the tips of both fore and middle fingers against his lips. He has to live. He has to be alright. For him and the little wher both. He wished there was something he could do, but for now, just staying out of the way and not adding to the chaos seemed to be all he could offer. Later. I'll visit him later, when all of this is done. When he's tended to and rested, and little Sesk is fed.
A tiny, fleeting smile flitted across his lips even in his worry for Sebol's dire condition. You always did strive to overcome, didn't you, brother? He'd survive.
He had to.
***
Varkyr clung to his dad, grateful that in all the chaos no one would think less of him for the action. Grateful that his dad was there, solid and warm and reassuring. He'd been so scared. To have seen the other man shredded so mercilessly, and then himself have been knocked down, there had been a moment that he'd thought he was next. Which he hadn't been, but still.
He looked down again when K'var did, observing the looks-messier-than-it-is damage done by the spooked wheret's claws. "Ow," he offered softly, feeling the adrenaline fleeing. It wasn't bad, not like Sebolaren's. Some of the claw marks were just scratches. A few were deeper, but that was no reason to panic, right? Right. Well then! Stiff upper lip, he wanted to be a warrior in the fight against Thread and he would be. He refused to be a child over scratches.
Varkyr looked up at his father, smiling even though his lips trembled slightly. "Um... I think I've had enough excitement for one day..." he joked shakily. "Infirmary sounds good to me. Let the people here focus on the candidates and wherlings, right?" He'd ask Letorin later what else had happened during the hatching. He was sure his roommate had caught everything.
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Maggie
Pridesecond
magct[M:-95]
Posts: 555
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Post by Maggie on Mar 25, 2013 20:12:05 GMT -5
Genner saw K'var grab his son and felt a pang of sympathy. He knew Varkyr had been a candidate with his own son and they would be about the same age. If it had been Gellin... He was suddenly glad K'var was Weyrlingmaster for his son's Weyrling class. There was something innately comforting about having a father that concerned in charge of his won's education.
Tamarine actually cheered a little as Shino Impressed. It seemed normal for the little girl the red had chosen to Impress, but it made her happy that the girl seemed to have Impressed one of the sweeter whers. Not one that mauled people or bit randomly. Even though she got along well-ish with Gennesk now. She hadn't thought she could be as happy as she was about the two who had Impressed, but she was, but she was elated. It seemed right, those Impressions, especially after the shock of the wild brown. She was glad that G'linhad been barred from coming. Anablimyth would have been terrified enough to go between, she was sure of it.
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Chek
Weyrlingmaster
chekct[M:-15]
I'm so magical I vomit rainbows
Posts: 1,091
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Post by Chek on Mar 26, 2013 12:55:36 GMT -5
His perusal of Iola complete, the blue continued on his way, bouncing through the sand with great enthusiasm as he finished making his rounds of the remaining Candidates. Remy was investigated thoroughly, the blue nudging him this way and that, and then the blue was off into the Stands. He visited Sebol and Sesk first, sneaking his head in between legs and busy healers to croon soothingly at his green sister – she’d see, all had happened as it should, and all would be well. He didn’t linger, though, bouncing up the steps after K’var and Varkyr to give them a sound sniffling as well, leaving them behind a moment later to go shove his nose – politely! – in G’dan’s face. Kalenna and Kalesk were next on his list; giving the pair a wide berth out of respect, he nevertheless chirped inquisitively at the gold before moving on in what seemed to be a personal attempt to check in with every spectator and Candidate currently watching and reassure them that all was well. Zipping back down to the lower levels, he prodded at Bif and Dizzy, the girl still draped over her cousin’s back, before he stuck his head through the guardrail to peep at Bifrosk. Dita and Disk were his next targets, Disk getting a face full of enthusiastic blue baby tongue, and the tiny human near them getting a wary goggle-eyed stare; Kida was a big too small for the blue to want to get too close to! Next, he came up alongside Sian and her dragon in time to politely watch the end of Raxeris’s rant, when the now ex-Wher Candidate was finally sitting, the blue squeezed past Sian’s knees and laid his head on Rax’s thigh, Raxeris need calm. Raxerisk explain, all happen as must, sad, scary, all need for right. You see. The blue let his head loll a little and gave his newly Impressed handler a toothy smile, Make bond, feed? Needed too.Impressed To: Raxeris Name: Raxerisk Hex Code: 1887ee Personality: Raxerisk is a cheerful enigma. Social, personable and definitely a remarkably helpful and intelligent wher, this blue is nevertheless prone to being excessively mysterious and obscure, loving every second of the frustration it causes others – and especially that it causes his handler. Raxerisk usually gives off the vibe that he knows what is going to happen and why – as a result he tends to come off as unintentionally morbid at best, overly-cheerfully fatalistic at worst.
This blue is a plotter and a forward thinker, as befits his image of prescience – he can set things up to go a certain way, planning ahead in a way rare in whers. Raxerisk also loves adventure and learning new things; crawling into crannies and doing things for no purpose other than to see what happens, for good or ill.
(Kireon I apologize for the crappy info because I’m siiick. Contact me privately and I can tell you EXACTLY about your wher in a way you’ll know JUST how to play him.) The final wheret Impressed, Damali nodded to herself and gently ushered Shino and Shinsk to their feet, “Go feed him, Shino; Lyrnn – you know Lyrnn and Lyrsk – will be waiting. Damask and I will come find you a little later, alright?” As she set the new, frighteningly young wherling on her way (but not before Damask had moment to smugly fawn over her offspring) Damali made some meaningful head and hand gestures in Yuri and Yusk’s direction, requesting an escort for her fosterling before the Candidatemaster attended to his unimpressed charges. Gathering up dud egg and hatchling corpse, and throwing one worried frown in the direction of Sebol, Damali and Damask set off to privately deal with the unviable results of the red’s clutch. Up in the Stands, Dizzy let out a low breath, “Wow, that was…something. Definitely something. Bif. We…should go see Pa. And Shino and her new wher. And then maybe you can come sit with me and Atenna for a little while?” Tius was already by the doors, his robe shed in favor of the clothing beneath, and he was motioning the pair over in his direction, his lips in a thin, worried line.
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maruset
Wingrider
marct[M:-420]
Posts: 590
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Post by maruset on Mar 26, 2013 13:18:22 GMT -5
Iola felt the urge to snort. Of course. The whole clutch would do that. Thought she wasn't surprised by the last one, since the others had done the exact same thing.
With a shake of her head, she turned and headed to where she could sit down and get her leg tended to. At least one had picked a wher candidate, even if the person had walked off.
A mental sign, and she just went to get her leg bandaged and go. One who wasn't a candidate to start with, one who was too young, and one who had left the sands. Well, it could have been worse, and she had to squash down her disgruntled reaction. Maybe she would have better luck next time. Now she just wanted to go back to her room and lay back down.
Letorin blinked a bit at the last one. Weren't Stand impressions supposed to be rare? And here was two in a row. Though he did have to laugh a bit. The blue had to chase down his person because that person left the sands. Poor blue.
He took the time to sketch all three wher, getting their interesting markings down. This had been an interesting hatching, and he wanted to get the wher down as well as the shorthand notes he had taken of it. Once everything looked like he had it down, he got up to go check on his roommate, then go to let G'lin and D'nari know what had happened with the hatching.
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Cathaline
Lady Holder
cathct[M:50]
Posts: 3,279
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Post by Cathaline on Mar 30, 2013 13:14:44 GMT -5
Sian's eyebrow quirked when she saw her brother wave the Candidatemaster over. Was he really going to...really? He'd watched her get ripped open by a bronze hatchling and still chosen to stand, but this was too much for him? Then again, she knew from that experience how different it was to be on the sands when it happened, and perhaps he was displeased that this time, it was the spectactors who were being mauled. That wasn't what anyone signed up for, after all.
Still, it was sad. She'd been...comforted, in a way, to think her brother would be joining her here. She kicked her heels and waited patiently for him to finish with the healers, and at long last he arrived and launched into a diatribe, to which Sian listened. Clearly, his problem was mostly with the whers, and that saddened her. Wher hierarchy seemed so much more open to women; she would've liked to see Raxeris as a part of it, instead of wasted on dragonhood.
Hey.[/i]
Don't mean you, mister. You're one of the good ones. Besides, it's the humans who are the problem...mostly.[/i] Reaching out, Sian squeezed Rax's shoulder. "I'll miss you terribly," she said. "Unless you want to stay here and become Dalibor's first Headman. That would be a noble pursuit, and you would be brilliant."
Oh, great, now the blue was in the stands, she realised. At least he didn't seem violent, though she drew her legs back when he pushed past; the last thing she needed right now was to irritate another baby and get swiped by those claws. If she managed to get mauled as a spectator they might really kick her out for being threatening to babies, she thought wryly...and then grinned wickled when Rax Impressed. Oh, yes. Perhaps it was awful to be excited for him when he'd just said he wasn't cut out for this life, but it was funny, after all. Poetic. And handlers were great. So much better than riders.
You will never make a wingsecond with an attitude like that.[/i]
Sian drew her beltknife and offered it to her brother, hilt-first. "Make the bond before he bites you," she instructed, fingers stroking under Shalith's chin. "You will be magnificent. I cannot in good conscience advocate Alphahandlership, but..."
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