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Post by tiamat on May 7, 2008 16:18:10 GMT -5
Disappointment at the Scarlet's Impression to another was brief. While Sharralik had liked the thought it might be his, he hadn't quite believed. He'd hoped, sure– who wouldn't?– but didn't dare expect it. He'd learned better than to expect things of others: to pull their weight, do the right thing, even simply help when it was needed... that girl's injury on the sands was proof enough that when it came right down to it, not everyone could be counted on. Besides, hatchlings were notorious for doing the unexpected.
Watching the new scarletrider, Sharralik wasn't sure how to describe the expression on the other's face, nor was he certain he quite liked it. It was a little... disturbing, almost gleeful rather than exultant. Well, he'd just been considering how unpredictable people were, here was another prime example. He could hardly do anything just because he didn't like the vibes he was getting off the weyrling– or at all, really. K'rel was in a whole different class at the moment, with Fryuth he became one of the esteemed elite of Pern. That would change once Sharralik Impressed, of course– for he would Impress. It was only a matter of when.
His gaze landed next on the two wildly rocking eggs, a smile curling his lips as one swung into the dark Jade just standing there on the sands. Well, that was what the hatchling got for just sitting around like that, he mused. The other egg... the candidate's breath abruptly exhaled in a sharp whoosh. The other cracked open to reveal an Onyx. Inky black and nearly as large as the silver queen, his hide seemed to absorb the light rather than to reflect it, even on surfaces that normally did so– talons, teeth. One almost felt compelled to look at its eyes to see the swirling life there. It was as beautiful as the Scarlet, more so even, in its own right.
Sharralik felt his smile lessen as the regal hatchling ignored the candidates for the moment, its head swiveling side to side as it inspected each of its unhatched clutchmates. He followed the Onyx's gaze to the unmoving eggs. Surely so many weren't dead? Nearly half the clutch... they just had to hatch! Or were they waiting? He supposed the risk of getting dragged away from whatever he might be doing at the moment to race to the sands multiple times would be better than to stand here and watch as hatchling after hatchling flung itself between. Oh yes, much better. Unless... had the dragons themselves found a solution to the potential candidate problem? The unusual breed seemed to be able to do something as unheard of as their colors: Impress two to one human. He didn't think he wanted that, though; his one would be quite enough for him to handle, thank you very much.
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Post by Chellie on May 7, 2008 22:51:41 GMT -5
‘Silence is a source of great strength and wisdom. But Patience is what gets one through those moments of silence.’ Sorcha replayed the words that had parted from her father’s lips when she’d been a young girl romanticizing over grand deeds, extravagant celebrations, and even the occasional dream of flying on the backs of dragons that one heard from harpers. The Candidate nodded her head knowingly; that patience was being required of her at the moment. If it were meant to be, she would Impress. But to rush such things, would result in disaster. Disaster having been something she experienced far too many times in her young life. Sorcha lingered over the vesper of a memory of what ‘home’ had really been before the tables had turned against her favor on her thirteenth birthday, the thought bringing her delicately shaped lips to tilt at the corners and form a frown.
Without thought, Sorcha brushed away a few locks of hair that found it necessary to terrorize her cheek with its constant tickling, ‘I am one of the last, eh? There is no surprise there; the hated are always chosen last; or left to stand alone with other’s disapproval of them.’ Sorcha toyed with the thought, the corners of her lips lifting into a pleasant smile. To assume that the candidate had never experienced malice or hate upon her, well…. She would possibly laugh in your face and call you a dimglow of lowest value. Long had she adopted the title of being an outcast, recluse, loner, hermit, outsider and whatever more bloody words one could imagine. In the general synopsis of it all; she was the person on the outside that most feared, some ridiculed, but never bothered with. And when chance permitted, she did give a try at showing some amount of kindness- they often turned out to be taken harshly, and dubbed heartless by her ‘peers’. It was never, never lack for trying, however one might twist this view of her to be. Alas, Sorcha was no person of great glory or nobility- but the female gave what she had. The tough, almost frigid persona that the minx held was often what prevented such acts of kindness to be viewed for what they truly were. The attempts futile as her rough speech gave them jagged edges, they be taken as mockery rather than brutally honest encouragement. Her intentions were pure, when she would give this aid, but however the help was received was beyond any of her control.
Her eyes trailed to where her gaze had rested the previous night; to the skies. She could envision how the nights candles fought valiantly to shine through the large clouds that wished to snuff the sources of light out before they had a chance to truly show their brilliance. The lullaby of the dripping rain begged the land to stay lost in the dark abyss of slumber. Water lapped up against the rocky edge of the bank as they passed over a water bridge, enchanting the mind that belonged to the loner Sorcha. Large, grey eyes stared out into the clear water with such wonder that one might believe this female to have never viewed this liquid before in her young life. Suddenly the tranquility of the scene was broken when the cacophony of cheering, creeling, and demands collided in the crisp air, so causing the afore mentioned young woman to break free from her trance-like state; however valiant she fought to return to that moment of viewing the night skies under stormy clouds in such serenity, she failed. The memory was blotted out when her jewels of eyes focused on the covering of the Hatching Grounds. Blinking, she soothed her longing of seeing the vast empyrean with her own impish one -an expression that the eighteen year old had become quite famous for at Benden Hold- while she mused , ‘There will be another time when I can look up into the skies in solitude, and cherish each star for their play...’ Firm skin was stretched across high-set cheek bones that were flushed, the pink tint apparent even with the even tan, from the daunting heat that continued to plague everyone who was left in the great cavern. A mix of emotions flooded over her exquisite features. First disappointment at being unable to be enchanted by those blue skies at the very moment, soon followed up by a satiated look- drawing herself back into the tableau that was laid before her and watching as scenes were being painted before her very eyes. It was amusing to see how similar the expressions on her face were to a match race between two great steeds. One would take a quick lead; exerting its power early in the race before the other began to make its move and overtake the faltering leader.
Aristocratically she gazed across the heated sands that were still new to her, with the discarded pieces of shell and foot prints of dragons littering the previously undisturbed ‘incubator’; its secrets lying in wait for her to discover. Wistfully the eighteen turn old sighed, the sound barely being heard when the pent up breath was released, consumed by the immense adventure that lay in her wake- or rather, the possibility of adventure. In a silent manner she narrowed her gaze to the remaining eggs and the few hatchlings that stalked the grounds; the great mystery of it all still looming ahead.. A flash of white was produced as she grinned, revealing her teeth as the hubbub of whispered conversation was drummed out of her brain and ignored without any further trouble. Her line of sight was kept settled on the blood Scarlet while he prowled, watching the others of the clutch.
His neck had been arched magnificently, eyes swirling in rapid speed and the reddest hue as he logged where everything that pricked at his senses were and if they were worthy of his attention or not. The smile that had managed to find itself onto the usually emotionless visage of Sorcha fled, it turning into a deep frown. The color of this dragonet made her cringe inwardly, it staining her mind and bringing back the memory of her sister lying in the sticky liquid. It almost proved unbearable to watch the dragonet. His hide was the color that had created so much torment, creating these shadows that followed her every waking, and non waking moment; black demons, bringing forth files of memory that were better left untouched. As if to cleanse herself from the memories of the dead Rocio; Sorcha shook her head, stopping to catch the Scarlet, Fryuth, Impress to Karrel- pardon, K’rel now. Even with the happy moment of Impression for the male, and as the small crowd erupted in cheer, this did not draw a pleasant response from her, eyes of hard grey focusing on the duo once more. Something was not fully correct about the new Scarletrider... He was sinister, a foreboding vibe coming from him. The aura of malice and hate hanging around him and poisoning the air, choking people of any innocence that might have been inside of them. Dark eyebrows knitted together in careful calculation of the new Weyrlings, making a mental note to watch the two (if she Impressed) carefully. ‘Twould not do to let them go by unnoticed and unaccounted for.
Angels and demons circle above me… Through the thorns to the stars Only those unable to perceive its call… …do not know happiness Watch in awe, watch in awe Aeria gloris, aeria glories
Angels and Demons. It was black and white, you were either one or the other (to break it down into terms that we, as mere humans of the Earth can comprehend as the epic battle between Angels and Demons). In this world, there was no such thing as grey. Grey was a luxury that a person never got to indulge in. You were forced to take up a vow of protection, to serve and to obey at all costs even if it leads one to their death as a dragonrider. You and your dragon gave an oath to uphold the traditions as rider and dragon and to protect the helpless people of Pern. There was no negotiating the matter. You were to be a saving Angel to a people of weakness and frailty.
You were to send the Demons, or Threads, back to Hell, back to Lucifer and back to the dust of whence they were created.
To the Lake of Fire, where the gnashing of teeth constantly ravaged one’s mind, where levels of pain unheard of were brought upon the dwellers there. To the ashes of nothing, where they harmed no more.
An easy enough task.
As a dragonrider, you detached yourself from emotions of fear. The orders had been placed, and to uphold honor to your name, you followed it at all costs. A point already having been stated. Learn the emphasis of this.
It was almost as if she lingered in a sleep-like state. Dreams and Nightmares had encompassed her life for as long as the eighteen turn old could remember. The nightmares were covering up the joyful moments of her past more often than not; those ghosts still too terrifying to tackle fully. It was better to let them rest in peace for the moment, to let the memories die of her loved ones. The Demons of the past being one that she could not face, they could not be so simply discarded as the menace Thread. No amount of Flaming could result in vanquishing the monsters… They remained, ever present. But that was what made her, in the end, stronger. The ability to be resilient to circumstances and still thrive in the absence of blood family. A survivor she had become, enduring through the trials and tribulations that life had thrown at her. Sorcha defeating the physical dilemmas, rising over the mental ones, and ever-so-slowly healing from the emotional ones.
I am calling, calling now Spirits rise and falling To remain myself longer Calling, calling, in the depths of longing To remain myself longer Watch in awe, watch in awe Aeria gloris, aeria glories
The very definition of a puppet is this; One whose actions and ideas are controlled by another. Most who become a servant to a Lord, or a country, go willingly, but others fair not so well with having not the privilege to say who they serve. Those few who are born into this lifestyle know not of the euphony of liberty. Nay, most only dream of the joy of bursting free of their bonds and living for what they were destined for… Yet every once in a great while, a person rises, sometimes with the help of a greater being, above their controller to achieve great things. In this case, such a fairy tale would not come true. There would be no escaping the years of service she would be bestowed upon if she did Impress, but with hard work and perseverance changes could come. It did not require one to be of any ‘high rank’ to cause for a change in things, and it did not mean that you were the servant of some other. Shards, the power lied in each person- but of whom would use it, that would be the question. Perhaps she would have to answer every whim of a pompous lord holder, defend every defenseless person, and fight off Thread (possibly having to suffer from severe injury by miscalculation). But with these burdens of responsibility, so came respect. And with respect, many things could change- such as refusing to be a ‘puppet’ to some other. The candidate’s half-smile came down much like Jack and Jill in their infamous tumble into a frown, as this Sorcha person vowed to herself, ’I will not be brought down to my knees before someone… I am Sorcha, I am free. I serve no one; I help where it is needed, but I am not owned.’
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Post by Lamia on May 8, 2008 19:24:45 GMT -5
The regal Jade stood alone on the sands. He stood as proudly as his clutchbrother the Onyx, seeminly unaware of his smaller stature and lower ranking. Eyes whirled with the hue of the bright ocean as he made his way closer to the males before him. A moment's silence would possibly envelope the area as the dragonet carefully searched for his Mine. There. A loud creel escaped him as his search ended. All traces of pride gone, the young dragon barreled into the semicircle, plowing through the group in attempt to reach his Mine faster. ~ValonMine! Your Leith has been waiting impatiently for you to feed him. Oh yes Mine, Leith is very, very hungry. But I waited for you. At first I wasn't sure if you were here, but then I found you!~ The little Jade finally exclaimed, barriling headfirst into Valon in his excitement.
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Post by Dragon on May 8, 2008 20:47:24 GMT -5
Valon had been eagerly watching the hatching, eyes drifting from one dragon to another, wondering if His was here. He scuffed his foot in the sand again, not even wincing as the hot sands surged over his sandal and onto his foot. This kind of heat was a little more intense then even he was used to, out in the fields, but he paid no mind to the mild burn the sand created on his foot. Pain had been something he had known his whole life, something mild like a small burn did not affect him at all. The Onyx seemed to be concerned for its clutch siblings, and he watched it poke around amongst the unmoving eggs with curiosity. This Onyx certainly seemed to have a sense of duty to the lower ranking colours, checking carefully.
But soon Valon had turned his eyes from the Onyx, following the path of the egg that was rolling across the sands. Why was it rolling like that? Could the young dragon inside not break free of it's confining shell? Was there something wrong? The boy felt a tug at his heartstrings, and almost wanted to just run out onto the sands despite the danger it would put him in. That dragon might need help! But he pushed the urge away, keeping his place among the other boys carefully.
His attention had been so caught in watching the hatching, and his thoughts lost in curiosity about the rolling egg, he did not notice the Jade suddenly run up to him until he was flooded with emotions, thoughts, and a voice rang through his mind. -V'lonMine! Please food, your Leith hungers!- The Jade repeated, poking urgently at the boy. Valon...no, V'lon now, looked down in shock as Leith grabbed hold of the hem of his robes and tugged, sending the boy slightly off balance. "What... Leith??? Oh, Of course!" V'lon said aloud, trying to figure out how to reply through the mind-link as he spoke. Turning and leading the young dragon... His dragon, to the table of meat, he announced to the crowd, "His name is Leith!" Joy coursed through his veins as he looked proudly down at his life-mate, then took him to where the other Weyrlings were. Offering the young dragon some of the bloody and raw meat, he grinned as Leith snapped it up, eyes whirring happily.
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Now the hatching seemed to be slowing down a little, as only one dragon roamed the sands, and the strange little egg rolled frantically across the sands. The Onyx seemed to have finished his inspection of the eggs now, as he finally found a third that was barely trembling. Snorting in satisfaction, the Onyx began to make his way over to the boys with a confident stride, flaring his fledgling wings as if to show them all what he was. An Onyx, king of the Weyr, one to be obeyed and respected.
While he made his way across the sands, the little egg he had discovered that was trembling began to rock more noticeably, a small crack appearing in the shell. So there really were more eggs here that were to hatch, they were just biding their time! Waiting...
And now the odd egg that was rolling across the sands seemed to have a set course, as it wobbled quickly toward the boys side of the sands. It's strange rolling course took the wrong path though, as it ended up careening into the Onyx making his way in the same direction. The Onyx hissed angrily, clawing at the egg as it continued on its path, not even knowing it had run into it's clutch-brother. The Onyx shook and took a half a step after it, as if to chase the oblivious egg. But it glanced to the line of boys and almost seemed to shrug before continuing on as if nothing had happened.
The rolling egg, meanwhile, had crashed right into Rukah, and with a resounding crack, it split right in half, leaving a pale Aqua sprawled on his back on the boy's feet. It looked up at the boy, wings spread on the hot sands as if he had fallen from the sky and landed on his back. His tail flicked around the sands, and it's eyes whirred with shame. The Aqua was a pale shade that was almost the exact colour of the ocean shallows, a pretty little thing. He just lay there, at Rukah's feet, and let out a snort.
His mind-voice reached into the boy's head, a quiet sound like the soft lapping of the ocean on the sandy shore not that far from where they were right now. ~R'kahMine, Are they looking at us? Are all those scary others looking at your Gyranoth? Your Gyranoth fears them, yes he does. They stare so. I can feel their eyes. R'kahMine, will you hide me? Oh please, take me away from all the eyes!!! I hunger but the eyes, the stare so! Hide me, R'kahMine!!~ The little aqua cried in R'kah's head, eyes whirring with distress and fright.
The Onyx was now pacing along the line of the few boys that remained, undecided on where His was. He ignored the little Aqua altogether. That lower ranking hatchling was of now concern of his right now, when hunger gnawed at his insides and he had yet to find His. No, he simply avoided the Aqua. His eyes strayed almost longingly to the line of newly Impressed Weyrlings and their Life-mates, wishing he was there with them, his Bonded feeding him. But no, where was His?!
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Kisana
Candidate
Vyrzen's Panda
Posts: 63
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Post by Kisana on May 8, 2008 21:14:24 GMT -5
Rukah watched the strange little egg rolling across the sands. His bronze hair fell in front of his eyes, but he wiped it away for the first time...The little egg kept rolling. And rolling. And rolling - towards him! Rukah took a step back as the egg bumped into its Onyx clutchbrother. The Onyx scratched at the egg angrily, and Rukah let out an involuntary gasp. The egg kept rolling on, though, forging across the Sands. The egg tumbled towards him, ramming into his legs and cracking open dramatically. A pale, oceanic Aqua all but fell out of the egg, landing sprawled on its back with its wings spread wide.
~R'kahMine, Are they looking at us? Are all those scary others looking at your Gyranoth? Your Gyranoth fears them, yes he does. They stare so. I can feel their eyes. R'kahMine, will you hide me? Oh please, take me away from all the eyes!!! I hunger but the eyes, they stare so! Hide me, R'kahMine!!~ [/i] A voice full of crashing waves, setting suns, starlight on oceans, echoed through his head. Rukah's - no, he was R'kah now - R'kahs heart filled with unbridled joy at the connection with his Gyranoth. He wrapped his arms around his dragon's head, tears running freely down his face. He no longer had to hide... R'kah led Gyranoth to the table of meat, grabbing a bowl and leading him into an unoccupied corner. ~You can eat here, my Gyranoth, my heart, my savior.~ R'kah told his dragonet, as Gyranoth's eyes began to whirl more happily. ~I did not want to leave my egg, but Gyranoth knew you were here and that you wanted YourGyranoth to be here. But there were so many people! I was afraid...~~Do not be afraid, Gyranoth. I will keep you safe.~ R'kah reassured his dragon, stroking the eye ridge gently. Gyranoth, out of the public eye, rumbled happily.[/center]
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Post by tiamat on May 9, 2008 19:20:27 GMT -5
The boys scattered as the Jade plowed through, oblivious to the havoc it was causing in its rush to reach its Bonded. Slowly the candidates straightened out again, a few that had been knocked over nursing scorched arms or hands where they'd suffered prolonged contact with the hot sand. Sharralik stepped back into place, finding that during the disorder the errant egg had hatched and the dragon within Impressed; the pretty little Aqua's back and wing-tops were dusted with sand, telling the tale of his less than awe-inspiring entry into the world.
Sharralik's smile for the pair faded as his attention inevitably returned to the Onyx now wandering among them. The black hatchling still had that royal air about it– he doubted it was possible to remove, at that– but now it seemed a bit... sad. Not as wailing-despairing as that Purple, thankfully; hearing sounds like that coming from this dragonet would be infinitely stranger in his opinion. Still... he took a step forward, closer to the creature. Most of the others were standing ramrod straight, gazes locked on the Onyx hatchling– not simply because of his rank, though that was part of it; the hatchling's proximity was pretty hard to ignore at this point.
One boot shuffled several inches more through the sand before Sharralik reigned himself in, almost surprised himself at his actions. What was he thinking? That was practically asking for the not-so-little hatchling to lacerate him, and he had the feeling this dragon would do a lot more than a little scratching like the Silver had. Rilaveth, that was the queen's name. He watched the Onyx carefully, not so much cautious as curious. The regal creature almost looked like it was having trouble finding its Mine.
Here? He wondered, wanting so much for the little one to turn to him, to... but it wouldn't. He couldn't... The boy tried to squash the ridiculous thought, or at least suppress it– wasn't this at least a little like how he'd considered that Scarlet at first? Look how that turned out! He'd already moved, though, offering himself up for the hatchling's scrutiny, and he was not about to back away now. A mauling he might get for it, but it might as well have been physically impossible for him to back down. Besides, wasn't there a chance...?
There was always a chance, always an opportunity. Sharralik may never expect such moments– he tried not to, anyway– but he usually ended up leaping into them regardless of the consequences. You never know until you try, wasn't that how the saying went? If worse came to worse, well, the WeyrHealer was here, and he was probably finished with Kisana by now too.
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Post by Pheonix on May 10, 2008 1:35:13 GMT -5
C'masle was still sitting with his two dragonets, trying to ignore the stares from a few of the people in the Stands. They could all just... go away! He almost snickered at the thought, and S'macle was snickering, and it was strange to hear Malivath talk with his other half. Well, they needed to bond, like he did with Narith. It was still weird, like hearing a far away conversation. However, S'macle finally merged the two conversations together, and there were all four "voices" talking at once. C'masle was not confused, though, as all four were extremely different tones. Still... he did have to wonder what would happen if Narith were to rise, and then what if Malivath were to fly...? He smiled softly and shook his head. He'd have to go to the Weyrwoman for help, maybe. Hopefully she would know what to do, or even the Weyrling Master. He would have to sort out how exactly he was going to fly these two....
Mine, I'm bored! My clutchsiblings are getting boring to watch, [/color] Narith complained, though it wasn't like she was whining, or at least, that's not what it sounded like to C'masle. Oh quit whining, we'll get to go to sleep soon,[/color] Malivath snapped, ruffling his wings and "accidently" hitting Narith, but all four of them could feel his satisfaction. Malivath...! she protested, ruffling her own wings right back. ' They fight like brother and sister,' S'macle mused to C'masle, who giggled. The two of them didn't fight very much, and it was actually rather interesting to hear a brother-sister dragon fight go on in their mind. Certainly the Weyr hadn't had anything like them before... even if it was only 10 Turns old. Maybe they'd go down in history? Looking over at the Hatching, he noticed a Jade plowing through the boys, from the flashes of green and the boys jumping out of the way of something. It seemed like an Aqua had Impressed to some boy that C'masle didn't know, and he wondered how many of these boys he actually did know. S'macle wasn't the sociable one, so he didn't know or care who the other boy were, but C'masle sort of did. He liked to make friends and get along with the other boys, so he was sort of looking forward to the Weyrling Lessons, as they would be a great way to get to know his fellow Weyrlings. As usual, S'macle felt the opposite, and he wasn't looking forward to having to work. Besides, it's not like he was going to do anything anyway. Everyone else would just assume that C'masle had Impressed to Malivath as well. That sent a wave of disgust through their mind that almost insulted C'masle, but he thought better, and reached out to scratch behind Malivath's eyeridges. Knowing that this arm belonged to His as well, Malivath didn't try to snap of C'masle's hand, which he was very grateful for. Still, in the back of his mind S'macle was a little sad that he wouldn't be acknowledged. Of course, the two of them were never really "shy" about their situation, but the chance to explain it never really came up. Most people probably just assumed that C'masle was bipolar or something, due to the rapid "mood swings". S'macle convinced himself that he was okay with that, as he was only "borrowing" C'masle's body, it wasn't really his. Only Malivath picked up on these thoughts, and the Jade's eyes were whirling with confusion, as the two dragons didn't really get their situation as much as the two of them didn't understand the dragonets. However, S'macle was a bit amused that he could block out C'masle from sensing these doubtful thoughts, but not his dragon. There were sure to be quite a few more surprises soon, S'macle was sure of that. Back with the Hatching, the Onyx still hadn't Impressed, but he hadn't gone between either, and in fact, he was looking over at the ones who had already Impressed with a bit of longing. This gave Malivath a smug satisfaction, and he ruffled his wings again, as if showing the Onyx up. S'macle was snickering. Malivath, that isn't nice! Narith scolded him, nudging him with her head. ' Well he should be worrying about finding his own, not looking over here at us,' S'macle commented, coming out of his thoughtful stupor. "Come on S'macle, what if he were to between?" C'masle mumbled the last word, as if saying it outloud would make the Onyx disappear, and the Weyr did need their Onyxs. Not as much as the Silver, because C'masle was pretty sure there were at least two other Onyxs in this Weyr, though only one was here. Well, he should envy me. I got the best Mine there is in the entire Weyr,[/color] Malivath crooned, his eyes whirling. S'macle was snickering inside their mind, he hadn't really expected something that cheesy to come from Malivath. Narith crooned happily, nudging her brother with her nose, I knew you cared about him! she exclaimed, and Malivath glared at her, moving as far away as their tail would let him.[/center]
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Post by Femisis on May 10, 2008 8:13:23 GMT -5
Though the matter at hand was rather serious indeed, C’ero was rather amused by Kisana’s lack of modesty. That was probably just the blood loss getting to her, but it was still rather entertaining. “Sephiroth, come over here.” He called to the Onyx as he threaded the needle expertly, squinting slightly as the big dragon blocked out much of the light. It would save the girl’s modesty, though, and that was more of a curtsey than a need. She needed to have this wound stitched up and soon. “I can’t use numbweed or I won’t be able to see what I’m stitching, so feel free to scream as much as you want. Just try not to move, alright?” He told her, trying to comfort her a bit. “Try not to let your dragon onto your thoughts too much as it might scare her more than just your screaming would.” With that, he grasped the needle tightly and, after checking in with Sephiroth once more, plunged the needle into Kisana’s skin. After doing this so many times, he was quite quick, but these gashes needed to be stitched up as tightly as possible. As he worked, he tried not to keep glancing over his shoulder at the girl’s Diamond. Any second now she might panic and jump, even with Sephiroth thereto comfort her.
/Keep working, Mine. I will keep her here./ The Onyx said firmly, eyes fixed on His. /It would be silly for her to leave now. Work./ With that, Sephiroth lowered his head to nuzzle the hatchling gently an act that had never been seen before. Was the dragon getting… soft? C’ero chuckled before resuming his work with a renewed fervor, working as quickly as he could without getting sloppy. Blood oozed from between the stitching he had just finished, but it was slowing greatly, which was definitely a good sign. It took a good twenty minuets, but finally he was finished, tearing off the thread with his teeth before sitting back on his heels to survey his work. She’d live, but there would definitely be scarring.
*~*~*~*~*
Grinning, Y’kito slipped another chunk of meat in Zutrith’s mouth, watching as she chewed, swallowed, then mewed like a kitten again for more. She was doing this more for her Mine’s amusement, but she was getting fed and loved Hers, so the Purple had no problem with this. “I love you so much, Zutrith.” Y’kito said for about the hundredth time since leaving the Sands, but the Purple didn’t seem to mind hearing it over and over again. /I know, Mine. I love you, too./ She crooned, snatching another piece of meat from the boy’s hands. The meat was yummy, but her belly could only hold so much. /No more, Mine./ She said, yawning and curling up against Y’kito’s side, thrumming gently as he scratched at her eyeridge. She was most likely going to sleep now, so he could resume his observation of the hatching uninterrupted until she woke up.
It seemed as though the Jade had mauled someone, while the little Aqua had hatched right at his Bonded’s feet. He couldn’t help but laugh, startling Zutrith slightly, at the sight. Such an adorable little thing he was, that Aqua, and hoped that he and his bonded would be happy. He couldn’t help but feel sorry for the Onyx, though, as he couldn’t seem to find His, but it looked as though maybe His was here. ‘Poor thing’, He Yuki though sadly, hoping he wouldn’t go between.
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Kisana
Candidate
Vyrzen's Panda
Posts: 63
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Post by Kisana on May 10, 2008 17:01:06 GMT -5
Kisana, the gashes on her chest exposed to the Healer, watched the Onyx dragon approach them - his name was Sephiroth. Sephiroth began calming Lilleth, who was creeling piteously. ~Mine, what are they doing? Why can't I be there? Lilleth wants her Mine to be with her! Lilleth has hurt her Mine...~ Lilleth called to Kisa, her eyes whirling with pure fear. Kisa shook her head at Lilleth, telling her to stay still. ~I will be fine, Lilleth. Stay where you are, with Sephiroth.~
“I can’t use numbweed or I won’t be able to see what I’m stitching, so feel free to scream as much as you want. Just try not to move, alright?” C'ero told her. Kisa stared at him - no numbweed to stitch up such large wounds? He must be insane! Sephiroth lowered his head and nuzzled Lilleth's back, causing Kisa to start. She had heard rumors of his callousness, but he had nuzzled Lilleth! Before Kisa noticed what C'ero was doing, the needle slid into her skin. He stitched the wounds shut tightly and expertly - and Kisa screamed. Her entire chest felt like fire, and she screeched like a banshee as the needle slid in and out. In and out. In and out. For twenty minutes this went on. Kisa's voice went sore from screaming.
Lilleth had tried in vain to reach past the great Onyx to comfort Lilleth, but Kisa held her back mentally, telling her that she was okay, trying to hide the strain in her mind. Blood was oozing from the stitched wounds, but much slower than before. Her head felt woozy with the intense pain from the stitches, but at least the bleeding was slowing. She just wanted to go and lie in a pool of warm water. C'ero tore the thread off with his teeth and examined his handiwork. Kisa hoped the outlook was good, though his face didn't show any hint that she might be at risk of death. If she were to die and her Lilleth was left alone, she didn't know what she would do.
"W-what's the v-verd-dict, C-c-c'ero? Will I l-live?" She slurred, her tongue heavy with exhaustion and blood loss.
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Post by Chellie on May 10, 2008 23:26:55 GMT -5
And there she was; the only female candidate left standing on the stands. It was in this state that she felt strongest; alone, without others to distract or annoy her with irrelevant babbling or irritating wailing (which most of the time was just for the dramatics, the girls being attention seekers and what not). For a long while, she had been this solo fighter –rightfully dubbed so by the people closest associated with the eighteen turn old-; a person more inclined to avoid the merry-going-ons of other people.
Anti-social, perhaps. But a lesson had been hard-learned as a child, and has been instilled in her all through her adolescent turns; no one is to be trusted. No one. For in the end, a person comes to prove themselves inadequate and will hurt you, despite however much love they proclaim to have for you (whether it be of a friendship love, or of a romantic sort)- the end is always the same. There is pain, there is sorrow, there is hate, there is rage, and most of all; there is isolation.
It has been in the mind of this minx to defeat this opposition, by simply skipping a number of steps and emotions and delve deep into the final outcome of it all; isolation. When one is in solitude, there are no petty arguments to deter you away from goals that you have created. Nor is there the chance of being far too lost in your own emotions to lose sight of the destination, or to be taken advantage of by a less than noble person. Noble- ‘tis a trait that is found lacking in the human race. Certainly there are many who strive to attain this title, and come very close to doing so, but ultimately everyone falls short of it. It is beyond the human limit to strive and succeed in being blessed with this title, for it would require one to be perfect in every aspect. To be perfect in speech, action, and thought- with never having a selfish tendency in the span of their life time. It is very much like trying to rein in the power of the ocean, to control its every movement and determine when the tide will come and go. The thought is amusing, and the action impossible.
Like the ocean, this ‘noble’ character trait is a tide that comes and goes. But never within reach, or in one form for long enough, to bridle and keep forever. She realized this, and even with those odds stacked against this ‘being noble’ business; the eighteen turn old did strive to at least be a decent human being. Cold, callused- ah yes, you would be correct to label her so. But for the lapse of sympathy gushing forth like a never ending fountain, or the absence of embracing every Pernese with a hug and smile- well, she, in her own right, did what she thought appropriate enough to be described as a ‘decent’ human. Loving, never- but decent could be attainable. Just like she would never be able to be master of wind or water, but she could dive into the warm waters and be wrapped in arms of unconditional acceptance. With each deep breath while present at the ocean’s shores, the salty air served as a soothing salve to invisible wounds and a burden lifter for loads far too great. The air laced with the aroma of salt and water filling one’s lungs. There was no perfume, in her mind, that could compare to this earthy smell. The scent itself caused for an invigorating sensation; just by merely inhaling the scent, a cleansing affect would sweep over one. Life would be rejuvenated and the mind would be awoken with the pleasing vapors, making for a delicious experience altogether. And as one is welcomed with the beautiful scent, the water will gently refresh the face with its salty droplets while the waves crash against rocky ledges; spraying the shore with its welcoming fingers. Of wind and water; they have been free of harness, and would remain so. In another light, they have been manipulated by human hands and the sheer freedom of the two elements twisted and tainted, they being made to accomplish jobs that benefit the human race. Nothing is ever truly free; just as is nothing is truly valued for what it is, until that item (or person) is found to be useful. It is the cycle that has always been present, and will continue to do so for the rest of eternity. It is as predictable as the change of seasons.
Stifling a sigh, Sorcha tackled the concepts that had always been alien to her as she watched these emotions keep on appearing on each and every face that Impressed, and of those that stood in the stands and viewing as a spectator to the grand event. How did these… feelings of joy, love, and acceptance truly feel? Determination had always been a part of her life, a determination to survive amongst intolerable conditions. And she had succeeded in that mission… But that determination had derived from the innate desire to survive, of revenge, and even the slightest vesper of fear. Never had she experienced determination from these things of love, joy, and acceptance. Mayhap that was why she continued to stand where she was, defending her ground- Mayhap it was not just for pride’s sake, but of a true longing to live through some of the bliss that life did offer. With this curiosity being carefully reined in, just enough to keep from allowing herself to do anything terribly rash, Sorcha found herself relaxing the fists she had formed. The lean fingers straightening out and resting against her slender thighs. Her heart beat, that had began to flutter and flirt with a faster pace returned to its steady, regular beat. The dark-haired lass had side-stepped to alleviate the burning sensation in the soles of her feet, if even for the briefest moment.
If I must, I will stand here for a sevensday… So began the ponderings of Sorcha while she watched as another boy Impressed, this time to a jade and another to an Aqua. Only the king of Pern remained on the hatching grounds, he apparently reviewing each boy that still stood there. Decisively figuring out which one was His. I will stand here until the last has come, and if I still stand alone it will be fine. Without much contemplation, one could easily come to the conclusion that this Sorcha person was not the type to set all her dreams, hopes, and aspirations on an event such as a Hatching. True, it would be absolutely marvelous to become a dragonlady of Pern. But her life would not end if this did not come to be: the planet of Pern would continue to turn in its rotation. The seasons would still come, people would still thrive, and she would still be able to carry on as prior to the Search.
Another realization life had given her through her less than desirable childhood; life will not bend to your will, it will not show mercy, and it cares not for hopes and dreams. You learn to deal with the hand it has dealt to you, and figure out how to achieve success with even the most hopeless of cards life gives you.
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Post by Dragon on May 10, 2008 23:36:56 GMT -5
The single egg that rocked upon the sands began to crack, spiderwebs of fractures running across its surface. Small shards began to disengage themselves from the whole of the egg, falling one by one to the sands until the whole of the egg was in bits and the dragon inside was revealed. A great copper, almost as large as the queen had been. Only, this copper was not a Copper. Rather, it could easily be mistaken for a Bronze if one did not know the nature of this Weyr. Her gleaming hide was, well... Bronze. But this was certainly a Copper. Although she really was rather big.
She shook off the last remnants of egg and fluids, and stood proudly upon the sands, surveying her unhatched clutch-siblings with something like... fear? Her body stiffened, and she let out a great keen of sorrow as she surveyed her unhatched siblings. The Onyx roaming the sands had frozen as well, keening along with his sister. For a moment it seemed as though the two were to go between. But no, the other dragons all around quickly took up the keen as well. It was clear in the minds of those Impressed that the dragons were in mourning for the rest of the eggs.
For these last seven eggs had no life in them. Still born, some might say. The last seven eggs were empty, the unborn dragons inside dead.
Cutting off their keening abruptly, the two left upon the sands... The last two, moved at rapid pace. The Onyx was first to reach His, flopping to the sands most ungracefully with eyes whirring his sorrow and mourning for his lost brothers. Not even able to live to go between. -Sh'ralikMine, your Creeth is oh so very sad. Seven of his brothers are gone, forever gone Mine! Why did they not live to find Theirs? Oh, Sh'ralikMine, it is so sad. They are no more!- The Onyx wailed through the boy's mind.
Meanwhile the great Copper/Bronze had dashed across the sands to the females, coming to Sorcha with the same sadness whirring through her eyes as her Onyx brother. ~SorchaMine, my brothers are gone. They have gone to rest, still in their eggs. Never to see the wonderful daylight, never to be with Theirs. Oh, SorchaMine, why must they go? Your Dellanth hurts for them. She knows they would have been good, they should have lived! Oh, why, Mine?!~ She creeled, heart aching. She was clearly very loving, and it broke her heart that her brothers had gone like that. Not even between. She nuzzled the girl affectionately, glad that she was alive and had Hers to comfort her.
(Short, but thats it. ^_^)
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