[Hatching] Rude Awakenings

[Rust]

Keth gave the message to N'rak, who sent his thanks to Kadia and Rusith before standing and making his way to the food. Thankfully, he wasn't far, so he wouldn't have to cross the sands during the hatching. All he had to do now was get the attention of the two who had impressed.

Kogran, being without as much sense as a boy of twenty turns should have, was doing his best to let Marith know that he cared... in the middle of the eggs. N’rak was about to have Keth speak to Marith and Drinath to convey the message to Theirs (much easier than trying to yell over the eggs hatching) but, well. As we all know already, it didn’t go that way.

It was surprising. More to Kogran and Marith than to N’rak and Keth. Over the years, it felt like the older pair had seen a little bit of everything at a hatching, but that didn’t mean that it didn’t scare them. N’rak felt the panic rise, ready to run to the sands to… do… something.

Do your job. There’s no way I can get their attention. Call to the dragonets for me, please. With no further instruction, Keth, from his perch above the scene, spoke to the green and the brown. Get off the sands. There is food to the side, and Mine is standing beside buckets of food. Go!

Neither Kogran nor Marith liked what was going on between the bronze and blue on the sands. Between them, more at ease since Kogran reassured her, they were wondering what they could do. What could drive them to be so angry? Marith asked just before she heard Keth. We must get off the sands! This way!

With that, Marith led Kogran to N’rak, the young pair taking a quick look back at the fight as the older man waved them in his direction.

[Sher]

J'ain could tell by the sounds of alarm from the candidates lined up in front of her that they didn't believe in 'what happens, happens.' She shook her head grimly and hustled into the fray, snagging and attempting to drag Prinner away by the robes before he got too close to be saved. "Candidates! Stop! You'll only make things worse!" High above, Ansith was silent except for the Hatching hum, outwardly seeming unperturbed by this turn of events, though J'ain could faintly feel his dismay already turning to sorrow.

If the Emporer Bronze had wanted, he could have disemboweled the blue with his hind feet, but he only continued to hold the blue away with outstretched forefeet, buffeting him with baby wings and making queer little gasping noises. For trying to pull the blue away from his victim- thereby putting himself within danger's reach- Kolaris was struck a glancing blow by the Emporer Bronze's wing. Nearly simultaneously, the blue kicked backwards to dislodge Julim from the infuriating attack on his rump, gashing the human painfully across the hip. A moment after, the bronze managed to flip the blue off himself with a heave. The Slinking Blue flopped off, but now he was almost mindless with anger. He got swiftly to his feet and threw himself at the bronze, knocking him away from Kolaris, and setting them both rolling in the sand.

This scene was familiar to Kadia. It reminded her of Rusith's first brood. The woman was holding onto her gold's hind leg tightly, unaware of the tears streaming down her face. Knowing that things like this happened sometimes didn't make it any easier to watch. The dragon herself was waiting, too- waiting to see what Brinleth's daughter would do. At least the gold hatchling was unwilling to endanger herself by rushing in.

The Tidal Gold had been taking her cues from Rusith, but couldn't hold herself away any longer. Boys, boys. She trotted nearer to the scuffling pair, letting out a high, piercing call that cut through other sounds in the Hatching Sands. It would probably grate against the nerves of anyone that wasn’t deaf, but nonhumans would be most affected. She maintained that note as she stopped a ways in front of them. The blue had tumbled away from the Emperor Bronze and was shaking his head in pain. The bronze was crouched, ichor trickling from the gouges in his flesh, but similarly distressed by the irritating sound. Thankfully, the noise ceased as soon as the gold saw the fight had ended. She bared her teeth, curling her lips, and stared back and forth from the blue to the bronze, as though both were in the wrong.

Then the Tidal Gold nuzzled the blue. The bronze had taken the chance to scuttle away from the noisemaker, and now was pressing up against Kolaris’ legs, all but exhausted. One eye was shut to keep the ichor running across the multiple lids rather than congealing on the facets. He looked up at the human, head tilted in puzzlement.

The Slinking Blue made a low whine of protest, eyes whirling instantly into gray. The gold hatchling snorted at the bronze to get his attention as her head tossed. The Emperor Bronze seemed to see the blue’s original predicament now, and after a moment of consideration, stepped generously away from Kolaris, though he glanced back in continuing perplexity. That was all the invitation the other male needed. The Slinking Blue sprinted across the space keeping him from Kolaris, bowling him over completely and laying down warmly on his stomach, a wondering trill of relieved joy sounding from that blue throat. Words tumbled over themselves as he shoved his muzzle under the lad's chin, the rainbow spin across his faceted eyes moving so rapidly as to be a blur.

Please understand, Mine! I would have had to leave forever if he said you were his. But your Carmith is here. I will always be here! Are you all right?[/i]

Carmith, the Slinking

Color: Blue
Final Size: 36’ long
Optional Theme Songs: "Been Caught Stealing” (Jane’s Addiction) / “One” (Alanis Morissette)

Appearance: Carmith is definitely not a “regular” blue. For one, he is a little big, but wiry rather than bulky- and stronger than anyone would guess if they were judging by his looks. For two, his wings boast an impressive span, definitely disproportionate to the rest of his body. With that elongated, rather elegant snout, he looks much more like an overgrown firelizard than like other dragons his age. The colors are what truly set him apart, though. Ghostly highlights swirl across the midnight and blue-black base, the patterns almost but not quite symmetrically mirrored on each side of his body. The spinal ridge just between his head knobs never developed properly in the egg, and is barely a hard nub. Also, his hind feet are clearly over-large for a lad of his stature, the toes and claws as outsized as his wings. Aside from those oddities, he is an excellent specimen of health.

[/b]
[li]General -
Envy lurks beneath that often amused exterior. The good fortune of others grates on Carmith if he doesn’t immediately receive the same. The problem isn’t that the blue lacks the discretion not to go around openly resenting this wingsecond or that green’s weyrmate; it’s that if he isn’t sufficiently preoccupied, he builds up a mental idea of what it’s like to be someone else, someone with an ‘easy life’ (as he thinks anyone that isn’t him would have)- someone with all the luck. Of course he shouldn’t do anything about it, but shards, he wants to. It’s remarkable really, that he develops such self-restraint to not try and take things he desires, by force if necessary! (He could, after all. There’s only His and whatever resistance to those impulses he can dredge up that keep him from trying.) As a hatchling it was clearly an issue. When his temperance keeps him from immediately seeking things he wants, he will often natter on about it, and try to console himself with praise for his own self-control.

Fortunately he is easy to distract, so short term relief is easily obtainable from the cycle of jealousy and “I’m proud of myself for behaving; do you see how I’m not going over there and stealing that herdbeast?” Carmith is definitely appreciative of what he does have, once he’s reminded of them. Health, a great pair of wings, a fair mind for logic (if only where it concerns others). Probably his best quality is his honesty, but it is a double-edged blade, because he doesn’t mind to verbally roast others. He feels that doing so is probably the only revenge he’ll ever have for them having more, whether it’s accolades, authority, or good old-fashioned free time. He doesn’t mind working, exactly, but he most enjoys spending time with His; only then is the work meaningful enough to deserve his full effort.
[/li][li]Reproduction -
Most of the time the ladies are just other dragons, nothing to get worked up over without reason. Just one whiff of a Flight will get Carmith hopping, though! He likes seducing his females, speaking to them privately and trying his hardest to get them to Choose him. Sometimes, they even will, and he won’t give a wherry’s arse if his competition says he cheated. As long as he gets to have his fun. In a vague sort of way, he wants to make babies, but mostly so he can pat himself on the back for that, too. One interesting thing to note is that as long as Kolaris is young enough to be disinterested in winning a mating Flight, Carmith won’t take part. Instead, they will leave the Weyr, away from the temptation, no matter where they end up as a result.
[/li][li]Threadfall -
Watching Carmith eagerly fight Thread has the potential to be an awe-inspiring thing. Though the width of his wings should mean increased drag in the air- and therefore, reduced agility- the reality of it is that he will develop utter control of every aerial movement because of them. Threadscores are just reminders to be more careful. Sure, he isn’t the most graceful dragon in the air, but he gets where he needs to be fast and without showing off. He doesn’t need to make special effort to show off. Carmith is synonymous with precision, flying and flaming alike. Such aerial prowess makes him equal to the full fighting shift expected of a blue, and then some. Kolaris may want to reign in his enthusiasm, though.
[/li][li]The Bond -
In the egg, he wanted a piece of everyone; now he wants a whole slice. Carmith is quirky, with strange motivations and a sense of humor he feels only Kolaris could appreciate. The blue isn’t as sensitive to teasing as the weyrbrat he chooses, but he will be quick to spring to the lad’s defense. The match seems destined for making mischief, and why not? He will sometimes turn to obvious sarcasm solely for the sake of His, in an attempt to get the kid laughing. He has a realistic set of expectations for himself and his human, most of the time, but he would rather be basking in the glow of everyone’s admiration. Being admired by His would be enough though.[/li][/ul]

---

Rusith’s eyes were again fixed on the candidates, a baleful stare that might have meant anything. After watching the blue Impress, the Emporer Bronze limped toward Julim. The multi-hued dance of color was clear on his eye facets as he stopped gravely in front of him, chirping with deep remorse. He was still out of breath from the scuffle.

Mine... I almost made a terrible mistake. Carmith would have went between, and it would have been my fault. I’m so hungry I got confused! Please tell me everything will be okay...

Vizioth, the Emperor

Color: Bronze
Final Size: 45’ long
Optional Theme Songs: "Rose” (A Perfect Circle) / “Wake Me Up When September Ends” (Green Day)

Appearance: There isn’t much, physically, to set Vizioth apart from other bronze hatchlings at first glance. His size is strictly average, even his colors- a metallic tan overlaid and 'folded together' with bright, coppery bronze- are nothing new. Perhaps it is his proportionate perfection that separates him from the rest. He is more awkward than most upon hatching, but he takes great care to hide it- and what’s more, the phase is soon over. By the end of the first week he will be able to run like a bow-legged canine. Later, when he has reached full growth, his movements on the ground and in the sky will have an undeniable fluidity of motion that will make size, shape, and color completely irrelevant. His face and form are reminiscent of a large feline, from the wide forehead to the abbreviated muzzle to the lean flanks, and even the way he uses his tail for balance while walking rather than dragging it on the ground. A handsome lad, all told, and he knows how to use it to his advantage.

[/b]
[li]General -
Vizioth has a subconscious vanity. He will lie in the sun, the better to sparkle, especially when well-oiled, and is a very tidy eater, the better to keep from soiling himself. But he doesn’t talk about himself in a narcissistic way. Actually, he tends to keep himself aloof from others- even dragons- because he isn’t fond of socialization for its own sake. Oh, if he has something to say and it’s reasonably relevant or important, it will be said- and he wouldn’t keep it to himself if asked. His pride is another matter entirely. It is evident in the way he moves, the way he looks at His. And if at first it is the pride of youth and not of accomplishment, well, what else does one expect from a bronze?

It should be noted that one of the reasons he doesn’t speak much to others of his kind is that once he has an emotional investment in someone, he softens toward them, the carefully-contained magnanimity overflowing disturbingly. In such a circumstance, he’s no longer able to view them objectively, and he sees that as pure weakness. A leader must keep their priorities straight- need comes before want, even if it is the need of someone else. Then again, he may be prone to relieving others (especially those recovering from recent injuries) of their duties and assuming them for himself if he believes they aren’t up to the task. Then he makes up for it by acting cold. The seed of instincts for leadership are there, and may blossom with the right encouragement.
[/li][li]Reproduction -
Vizioth doesn’t hesitate to use his looks as a springboard for his campaign to Win the Ladies. Neither does he hesitate to jostle other males during Flights, sometimes just short of actual violence. When he does win, he will act like it was inevitable from the beginning. Fathering a clutch will become his most fervent desire for a period of time, like earning a new rank, or performing a new aerial trick. Before and after that first clutching he will positively dote on his mate, maybe even driving her to distraction bringing her special nourishment. After he manages to sire a clutch once, though, the novelty of it will fade; at that point it would take a very special (or determined) coquette to keep him around after the flight is done. It isn’t so much that he stops caring; he just wants to move on to the next conquest. There’s plenty of him to go around.
[/li][li]Threadfall -
Threadfighting is a very personal experience for Vizioth. It is his way of giving back to Pern and honoring the traditional relationship between Hold and Weyr. It’s also a great way to test himself, something he enjoys immensely. While he doesn’t like the idea of experiencing the pain of getting scored, there’s a certain morbid fascination with it. A proper scar would look dashing. Since he is well proportioned for a bronze, he will be everything a bronze of his size should be- fearless, effective against the larger clumps of Thread that the smaller dragons’ flames might not have much chance of searing, more than capable of lasting for a full extended ‘fall, and quick to warn others of the rare clump that he misses.
[/li][li]The Bond -
Most of all, Vizioth has chosen Julim because of their similarities. Both are innately skilled at hiding the softer depths of their personalities away from the world. The bronze trusts His with every fiber of his being, without expecting the same in return. The fact that Julim looks strong- and pretty for a human- also had something to do with it, though Vizioth wouldn't likely admit to being influenced by physical appearances.[/li][/ul]

---

Now that she found herself alone on the Sands- Rusith, distracted as she was, definitely didn’t count- the Tidal Gold edged back over to the Drum Solo and crouched beside it. Something was looking back at her, something that still didn’t want to come out of its shell. The chubby gold crooned encouragement. Slowly, ever so slowly, the egg parted again on one side as the hatchling within stood. A dark brown head shading into black caught the light, shining wetly as the creature climbed carefully out. The forefeet were brown also, a brighter color than the face. Then, incongruously, a blue chest – and metallic bronze wings… and finally, the tail, black shading into the same brown as the feet.

Dead silence reigned for at least half a minute. Then, the hisses of urgent whispers ran rings around the Stands, and even through the unImpressed candidates. What in the name of Faranth was that thing? Had Brinleth’s old age hidden an illness that twisted her offspring? There were Carmith’s feet to be considered, after all, and his vestigial spinal ridge… and now this thing...

[azure]

Prinner was stopped mid motion by J'ain and moved to the side. Once again being small had resulted in him being treated like a kid. Alright then. He'd do as he was told like a kid. He didn't have much choice, did he. Obey and stay or hit her for grabbing him and get thrown out.

At least the situation with the hatchlings was being handled though of course not until after there was blood, both dragon and human. Make things worse? Seemed to Prinner the candidates had stopped it, or slowed it down until the hatchling queen stopped it. What candidate could stand by while a hatchling was being killed? And for him, he was a beast crafter too. He was quite able to help with the injuries.

He was furious. That was nothing new. That he had walked away was. He needed to not get kicked out of here more then he needed to punch J'ain for grabbing him. He was going to keep repeating that until he believed it. It would probably take a while.

Wait. What was in the Drum Solo egg? Now that was on interesting looking dragon. Could the dragon have known it was going to be so different and that was why he was mad? If so, Prinner understood completely. If he wasn't so small things would be very different.

-He thought what he could see of this hatchling was pretty cool. The form was good. He saw nothing yet to say the dragon wouldn't fly and fight thread. He'd just get lots of looks and gossip all his life. Oh great. Now he was angry for the hatchling too.

[azure]

Ow. Ow a lot. Julim looked down and saw blood on his hip. His leg still worked fine though so he'd ignore it for now.

More importantly the little queen was getting involved and stopping the fight. It looked like they wouldn't loose either hatchling to between. That was worth a gash.

Kolaris wasn't bleeding, that was good. He was getting up so he'd just been knocked down.

The little bronze was hurt though, he wished he had gotten in a couple more good kicks! Sharding blue, what was he thinking? And why had the bronze been keening in front of Kolaris? Keening was for loss, like when a dragon died. No one had died -

Had the bronze been keening because he wanted Kolaris and couldn't have him? That didn't make sense though. Did it?

This was when the bronze walked over to Julim letting the blue have Kolaris. He, Julim was apparently the next best choice. How wonderful to know you were second best.

Then the feelings of impression washed over Julim. He had a dragon. A hurt, hungry dragon who had apparently chosen him so that his blue brother could live too. He couldn't fault the logic.

"You both are alive and you'll both grow to be fine strong dragons. You did fine. Lets get you food and help for the gashes."

Foregoing the traditional announcing of the dragons name to the Weyr, J'im led his dragon off to the food and waiting help. He could feel blood all down his leg and into his sandal so he'd best get that tended to as well.

This was all unreal. He had to have misunderstood something or maybe this was a dream? He was a bit dizzy.

[ambigious]

When Patala responded to her comment, Ophelia merely inclined her head in response. How ironic it was that those words of warning would later come back to haunt her. In another moment, the tidal gold seemingly berated the brown, who then swung his head over in their direction. Ophelia stiffened as those rainbow eyes glanced towards her. No, it couldn't be, she wanted...but then Amaroq trilled a congratulatory note, clearly unperturbed by the situation. Arching a brow in what was quickly becoming her trade mark look of speculation, Ophelia glanced from the corner of her eye at Patala, who had a look of wonder on her face. Ah. The muscles in her body slowly but surely relaxed, although Ophelia's hands remained clenched into fists at her side.

"Congratulations," she murmured to Patala before the girl ran over to greet her dragonet. It was definitely satisfying for her to see a woman impress a brown. Let the old men and women of the Weyr chew on that for a while. However, as Ophelia was reveling in this small triumph, a few things were set in motion that she did not expect. At that precise moment, two eggs hatched simultaneously, and Ophelia's eyes were instantly drawn to the Drum Solo egg. The breathe caught in her throat as she strained to see the dragon within, her heart beating wildly and erratically in her ribs. Despite her best intentions, a note of possessiveness crept into her thoughts as she watched. Her egg, her egg was hatching...but unfortunately, Ophelia was so focused on the Drum Solo, who still would not reveal itself, that she missed the blue bearing down on her until it was too late.

All of a sudden, Ophelia found herself thrown to the ground, a heavy weight forcing her to the scalding hot sands. With a creel of distress, Amaroq darted into the air and hovered, eyes whirling orange with alarm and agitation. Adrenaline kept Ophelia from feeling the cut along her thigh or the sand that instantly burned her forearm and hands, so instead she merely rolled to the side to get out of the way of the squabbling dragons. Once she was safe, she instantly darted to her feet and descended upon the pair, eyes flashing. "Listen here-" she snarled, but right before she could speak a small figure jumped into the mess. Was that Kolaris? Reacting instinctively, Ophelia began to move, but then thought better of it. At this point, getting involved would only hurt Kolaris more; it would be another body to sling around. Thus, she watched and waited for an opening to yank the boy away from his stupidity. Luckily for all of them, the tidal gold waltzed up at that moment and put an end to the squabble. Ah. It all became clear to her, and thus Ophelia's anger subsided into harsh undertones, as the blue claimed Kolaris and the bronze moved on.

So it was a mix-up.

As the rainbow of Impression seared through the blue's eyes, Ophelia was instantly reminded of her egg. With a gasp, she glanced around almost wildly, searching for it. As Amaroq settled back on her shoulder with a worried squawk, to which Ophelia unconsciously soothed him, her eyes connected with the egg right as a figure emerged. The tidal gold stood next to the shattered Drum Solo, and there, in the wreckage, was the most gorgeous dragon Ophelia had ever laid eyes on. For a moment she simply stared, dumb founded and paralyzed, as the dragon glanced around. The miasma of colors along its hide was dazzling to see, and once again Ophelia's heart thumped in her chest.

Then, she heard a sound that caused her temper to flare; the hisses and muttering of the crowd. Anger flared through her. "Who are you to judge a dragon? The ignorant will remain silent unless they want to have a word with me." Ophelia's voice rang out to be heard by all, even as she began striding briskly towards the dragonet pair. "You are the most magnificent, beautiful dragon here," she said to the mutation, "and if anyone says otherwise I'll gladly correct that mistake." Ophelia's voice dropped to a soft, lethal tone, as she came to a stop in front of the pair. The pain from the cut, as well as the burns from the sands, were a muted idea in Ophelia's mind at that moment, yet blood still trickled from the wound and her skin looked swollen and red.

[Snow]

Neiram didn’t know what was going on. The little blue was so angry and then it attacked the handsome bronze, but none of the adult dragons seemed to want to intervene. Her hands were up at her mouth and her eyes were watering from fear off anyone getting hurt, dragon or human. Ophelia had already been run over, but she seemed alright. Kolaris and Julim were trying to break it up and even Prinner and Eavan was doing what they could. Neiram was too scared to do more than stand and stare.

Finally, the fight was broken up with Kolaris getting the blue and Julim getting the bronze. Neiram was still too shocked to congratulate the pairs. Thank goodness for the level headed gold breaking things up. Then, the gold went over to the hiding dragon and encouraged it to come out. When it did Neiram was knocked right back into shock. The baby was a whole mix of beautiful colors. She assumed it was a boy since it was blue, brown, and bronze colored, but she could have been wrong. This hatching was certainly turning out to be interesting and she hoped fervently that no more fights would happen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Everything seemed fine and then all at once chaos let loose. The blue charged towards the bronze with a challenge. Then the two crashed into Ophelia as they fought each other. Eavan’s eyes widened with shock and fright at the fiasco. Instinctively, she moved towards the girl afraid that she would get badly mauled. Thank Faranth, it looked like Ophelia came away from the tackle fairly unscathed. The bronze was not fighting back at all. Kolaris said something to them and then tried to get the blue off the bronze and then Julim tried to stop the fight.

That was brave of them, but stupid. Why wasn’t the older golds doing something? ”Watch it you two! Even if they are babies they could easily kill you both without meaning too.” She said walking towards the fight. The bronze knocked Kolaris with a wing and the blue managed to kick Julim back and cut his hip good. Eavan tried to move to help Julim to his feet, but the little gold got in her way.

That gold was a life saver. In the next few minutes, as most people had to get their bearings back after having their heads assaulted with such a horrible noise, she had managed to settle the dispute between the two. Then it was obvious what had been the problem. The blue had wanted Kolaris and he was afraid the bronze was going to take him. It worked out in the end since Kolaris got his blue and Julim impressed the bronze. ”Congratulations Kolaris, Julim.” Eavan said, managing to get her heart back to a normal rhythm. She honestly was almost in tears thinking the two babies could have killed each other, but that didn’t happen thankfully.

The little gold then went to apparently encourage the dragonet that was still hiding in its shell. Eavan’s respect was steadily growing for the pint sized gold. She was going to be an excellent leader for the weyr. Finally, after some crooning, the baby stood up. Eavan and probably no one else was expecting what was to come from that egg, or perhaps they had. That egg had always been the odd ball of the clutch, why shouldn’t the baby be any different.

A wave of whispers and murmurs went through the crowd and all Eavan could do was stare. It was Ophelia’s voice that broke her out of her shock at seeing such a multi-colored dragon. She sighed, leave it to that girl to try and start something. She followed after the girl, afraid not only that she’d do something stupid but that she’d hurt herself more. That gash in her leg wasn’t small, thought it could be worse. ”Ophelia, stop it. I believe we’ve had enough violence at this hatching today. Any healthy dragon is welcome here and if any disagree with that notion then they’ll be proven wrong, but it won’t be by you alone.” Eavan had just about had it with Ophelia and her brash, unthinking reactions. She was standing in front of the pair, next to Ophelia.

[Sher]

As with the first, the second young woman’s words caused a momentary lull in the general buzz, but nobody answered directly. The hatchling from the Drum Solo egg had listened to Ophelia’s words, standing stock-still. The moment she was done speaking, the atypical hatchling looked her very deliberately in the face. When Eavan’s words ceased, it puffed out its little chest and turned to glare at the crowd.

It bristled briefly, turned its back on the three girls (human and hatchling) to stalk- as best as a baby anything can stalk- across the Sands, lashing its tail all the while. It sat down there on its rump, facing away from Ophelia in particular and radiating fury. While the hum of conversations matched the adult dragons’ hatching hum, the egg that many had forgotten about, the Fuddy Dud, simply split into quarters with a gentle pop. After the numbing shock of the angry hatchling’s appearance, this little wisp of a thing- about the same size green Marith was- that crouched there was almost unsurprising to the assembled witnesses. Its hide was gray like the color of wet stone, and beneath the gooey egg fluids’ shine, an almost indiscernible secondary gleam indicated a metallic hide. The Smoky Gray got up slowly, with exaggerated care, looking all around and trying to shrink in on itself. It moved slowly, with many wary stops and hesitant starts, toward where Rusith was sitting on her haunches. It went right between her legs and put its head behind a golden foot almost as long as it was. Meanwhile the gold blinked down at the shy little thing, rumbling a mixture of amusement and comfort. It seemed like the Smoky Gray wouldn’t be moving on at the moment.

All through the Cavern, people were murmuring about the weirdly atypical hatchlings on the Sands, and one brazen female candidate’s reaction to their wanton speculation. No one knew how to refer to the multi-colored one yet, but a certain master stonesmith was so disturbed that he couldn’t stop chattering at the top of his voice about how he thought he’d seen something with all those colors together before, a long time ago; he was trying to remember. Finally he called it a bismuth. Soon enough the name would spread- mostly because nobody else present had the slightest clue what in Faranth’s name to call it. The gray, on the other hand, was the source of quite a few arguments: was it gray, or was it properly silver? Most seemed inclined to call it a gray, disliking the idea of calling it a metallic name before its hide had been even washed clean. It sure as shards wasn’t a white. Several people were volubly upset, angered even, at the presence of these ‘mutations.’

You, wait. The Simmering Bismuth growled directly to Ophelia, but the dark, angry tone swelled in an open band of speech, so many could hear it. Stay there![/i] The terse mindvoice was a high tenor, just barely male enough to assign a gender to the strange baby, and arrogantly demanding. He still stared, red-eyed and unblinking, away from the young woman who had made so much of him, the gold that had coaxed him from his shell, and sweet Eavan.

[ambigious]

[ooc: I wanted to add a disclaimer in here that I have nothing against anyone haha and in fact I like Eavan's character =P this is just how Ophelia acts -- she takes everything wayyyy too personally. but if this offends anyone let me know ^-^ ]

A small sense of satisfaction rose within Ophelia as the crowd was momentarily silenced by her words. Let them think on their actions. It was one thing to have a sense of curiosity, but she wanted to quelch any suspicions or disrespect before it even happened. Call it prevention rather than intervention. Despite his chosen's confidence, Amaroq cowered against the candidate's shoulder, attempting to burrow into the back of her neck. Idly, she reached up to stroke the long brown tail that curled around her neck, reminding Amaroq to loosen his hold. Although the brown chirped his consent, his tail still remained firmly locked around her neck.

Then, words from a familiar voice reached her ears. "Ophelia, stop it." Ophelia immediately stiffened at the tone, already knowing it was Eavan and what was to come next. The presumption in her tone was scalding, and Ophelia's body tensed once more, her instincts kicking in. "Eavan," Ophelia responded to the girl, her voice once again dropping into that quiet, lethal tone. "Think before you speak to me again, or I won't be this kind. I don't want to deal with your ignorant self-righteousness." It was the calm before the storm, and anyone who had spent any time at all with Ophelia could tell that. Her limbs were practically shaking as she contained herself, words of venom practically dripping from her tongue. As much as she tried to contain herself, for it was a Hatching after all, her anger slowly mounted with each word that was said, until finally she exploded.

"Violence? You think I'd be violent, to a fledgling?" she spat, whirling on the girl. "Who do you think you are, talking to me like that? The perfect little weyr girl that everyone loves? Well guess what, you're just a pretty little doll that people pet and fawn over but don't take seriously. Especially when you flirt with boys," she emphasized the word angrily, "who are more than a few years younger than you. Don't make me the bad guy so you can play white knight. I wouldn't harm these fledglings." Unfortunately, she was so incensed by Eavan's words that she failed to notice the hatching of the Fuddy Dud egg. When an angry voice entered her mind, Ophelia's eyes snapped over to the dragon; she had of course noticed the fact that the dragon had completely ignored her. Despite her best intentions to be distanced, she was hurt.

"Fine," she snarled at the multi-hued fledgling, "you prefer sweet little Eavan? Well if that's your taste, you can have her." With that, the tall young woman turned and strode away from them all. The last thing she was going to at that moment was take orders from a dragonet who had bypassed her. She'd thought the dragonet would be different, due to its magnificent hide that set it apart from all the rest. But if anything, it was worse; a wolf in sheep's clothing. Another figure she had put her trust in had failed her. Another hope, dead. Well, if the dragonet didn't appreciate her merits, she had no worth for it. Still nursing her hurt, Ophelia walked away from the eggs, and if anyone looked closely they might've seen the wet mist that coated Ophelia's normally expressionless hazel eyes. She'd been a fool for thinking she could trust anyone but herself.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Although Coreanth tried to let Rusith handle the young gold fledgling, when the Tidal Gold glanced up at her for comfort, she couldn't help but rumble in encouragement. Even though she was small, she definitely had the queenly instinct for taking control of a situation and handling herself. She watched contently, and with a muted hint of pride, as the gold handled the quarrel between the blue and the bronze. She was poised to spring, of course, wings flared, but subsided at the last minute when the gold stepped in. But then, a very interesting thing happened...Coreanth's eyes whirled in alarm as the Bismuth dragonet appeared, glancing around with red fury in its eyes. Coreanth couldn't help but hiss, clearly displeased with the mutation.

From her place on the railing, Eyrlaina frowned and glanced over at the eggs, her hand still placed to her chest. Cori, what is that? I don't know, but I don't like it. I get a bad feeling. Then the words from that impudent Candidate rang out, and Eyrlaina's frown deeped in disapproval. Remember that girl. I'll have a word with her later. I don't know what good that would do, Coreanth replied in a mysterious tone. Rather than follow up on that, Eyrlaina watched closely as first the bismuth, then the grey dragonet, hatched. She would definitely need to speak with Kadia, immediately following the hatching.

[azure]

Wow! the last egg had hatched! It looked like the hatchling was healthy. Prinner was very interested, moving up to stand with the girls. It made sense to narrow the circle since there was only the three hatchlings left and they were close together.

It also gave him a better look at the 2 new ones. How interesting. The little gray also seemed well formed. It or she was about green sized. Clearly a sport, so who knew what size it would end up being? But was that a metallic sparkle in there? A sport queen? Oh wouldn't that upset the Weyr, no all of Pern?

What an interesting hatching. He had heard and read about other hatchings, this one was absolutely unique. And he was here!

Prinner understood why Ophelia had yelled at the crowd, she wasn't used to the attention and talk being unusual generated. It was very familiar to Prinner. He got it all the time. People would be surprised how old he was or would condescendingly tell him how fast he must be or how little he must have to eat and then they'd go whisper about the little runt they'd met.

Yelling didn't help, though it felt good at the time. Being smarter and better at doing things did. Learning how to use words well and being able to fight if you had to also helped. He really hoped the multicolored dragon would chose Eavan or him. He needed help controlling the anger, not someone who would encourage it.

But who would the little Queen pick?

[Snow]

(I also want to disclaim that I love Ophelia and have nothing personally against her. XD)

If Ophelia was angry, Eavan was fuming. The girl was impossible and Eavan was close to the breaking point. She noticed the hatching of the Fuddy Dud egg and noted the odd color, but at the moment her attention was on Ophelia. She had to take a few deep breaths, trying to get her temper under control. Just because Ophelia was spewing venom and hatred at just about everything at the moment, didn’t mean that she could as well.

”You really don’t get it, do you?” She said her voice low as she tried to keep herself under control. ”If I had thought for one second that you were going to hurt the dragonets I’d have done more than just yell at you.” Eavan meant it to; she would have punched the girl right in the face if she thought she was going to do something to the fledglings. That didn’t just go for Ophelia, she’d have laid flat anyone who tried to hurt the babies.

”You’re so sharding wrapped up in yourself that you’re too unwilling to see what’s really happening. Not everything is about you, Ophelia. No one is trying to make you the bad guy, but you’re doing an excellent job of doing it yourself.” She was shaking just about as much as Ophelia, but she refused to give into the anger and frustration she was feeling towards the girl. She was relieved that she had managed to keep her voice level and not raise it. The remark about flirting with boys younger than herself didn’t faze Eavan at all. It only proved to her how small and petty Ophelia could be.

She wished that she could just turn her back on Ophelia and forget the girl, but she couldn’t. Ever since she’d been old enough to think for herself she had felt a deep loyalty and responsibility to the weyr and people like Ophelia were a threat, in her eyes anyways. Ophelia then began walking away from the eggs, though Eavan thought she had heard the multi-colored dragon tell the girl to stay. Eavan gave small laugh of incredulousness that Ophelia was so selfish that she would walk away from a dragon that might actually want her. ”Running away will get you nothing Ophelia.” Eavan knew that comment might actually make Ophelia attack her, but she preferred that than for the dragon that wanted her to between simply because Ophelia was too selfish to stay.

[weetia]

Kolaris was vaguely aware of Julim trying to help too, before he got knocked away by the bronze's wing, and saw the blue hurt Julim. Frustrated, he backed up a little, trying not to cry at what he was watching. There was no reason for them to fight, surely. The blue got pushed off, then, with no damage to him, and the boy was relieved for a short moment. Then when the blue tackled the bronze again he wanted to scream with fury. "Stop," he whispered at the struggling dragonets, though he knew the blue wouldn't listen, and wasn't giving the bronze a choice.

The little gold finally stepped in again, just as she had with the brown, and Kolaris held his breath. Whatever she did worked, and he closed his eyes for a brief moment, opening them with a little moisture on his cheeks. The little queen was nuzzling the blue, and the bronze had come back to him, hurt but friendly and wanting comfort. Kolaris looked down, worried, at the injured dragonet. He was leaning against the candidate, but he had not Impressed, and the blue was whining. The bronze stepped away, kind of confused, which pretty well matched Kolaris' feeling. What was going on?

He didn't have any more time to wonder, before the blue had charged him this time, though with more bounce than anger, and knocked him straight onto his back. The largish blue was sitting on him now, and making happy noises, and Kolaris was mostly relieved. The blue seemed to be trying to snuggle right up into his candidate.

Please understand, Mine! I would have had to leave forever if he said you were his. But your Carmith is here. I will always be here! Are you all right?

I'm fine, Carmith, he answered. For a moment, he forgot about the injuries of the last moments, and stared up into the blue's eyes. Then he thought about what the blue was saying, and was even more puzzled. Carmith was his, he understood that. What he didn't understand was, the blue had thought the bronze would choose him. It's ok, he told his hatchling. I'm sure he didn't really want me though. He was looking at everyone before he decided, and he was friendly, that's all. The idea of Kolaris with a bronze was pretty silly, he wanted exactly what he had.

When I was touching your egg, I was thinking that I would put up with you being a bronze or brown if I had too, he thought pointedly at Carmith. but I am so glad you are a blue. You're exactly the dragonet I wanted, he told the hatchling firmly. Later, he would try to explain why Carmith had to get along with his clutchsibs, but if the blue had been afraid he would lose his person...
You will never go between without me, he added even more urgently, and he reached his arms up to hug around the blue's shoulders, though he couldn't completely reach.

It occurred to Kolaris that he needed to stand up and get them off the sands, just as he felt the blue's hunger start to be more significant than his retreating anger and fear. "Come on, Carmith," he said out loud, starting to be aware of the hot sand down his back and legs as well. "We need to get off the sands and get you some food, so you need to get up off me," he coaxed gently, aware the blue might still be upset over the perceived threat to his claim. Carmith moved reluctantly off the boy, who pulled himself up, sand sticking to the back of his head and robe. He quickly led the blue off the sands, noticing the bronze with Julim (Now that made sense, finally.) and leading the blue deliberately as far away as possible. He didn't have a problem with either dragonet or boy, but it seemed like a good idea to keep as much distance between the two dragonets as possible.

[azure]

There was a very quiet, very worried chirp from Prinner's neck. Opal had been doing his absolute best to be invisible there against the white robe but this was getting scary. Emotions were flying around and they weren't nice emotions. Why was his person so determined to stay here?

Curiously the little flitt looked over at the three hatchlings left. His favorite was the little gray. She almost looked like him. The many colored dragon was scary and the queen was a queen. Was his person going to have a Queen dragon next?

Prinner had understood most of that, he was getting used to the stream of pictures and feelings from his flitt. "No I don't think the Queen will pick me. Queen dragons have never ever picked a boy. I hope one of the other two chooses me though. I could fly on a dragons back. We could play up in the air when the dragon gets bigger."

Wanting to fly made perfect sense to the white flitt. He stood up on the shoulder, no longer looking like a lumpy white color. More then half of him had been under the collar of the robe before, the better to hide from the really big queens.

Prinner wished he could shut the girls up and make them behave. He now had a worst case scenario. The gray was a queen and one girl got one queen and the other got the other. No one would survive training if that happened.

Those two were fire and water mixing badly and never understanding the other. He checked again to make sure he was in no way between them and the hatchlings could still see him. Were all hatchings this emotional?

[Sher]

Pointedly ignoring the din, the Simmering Bismuth was about to come to a rolling boil. His tail lashed more furiously at Ophelia’s second outburst, and he bared his teeth in open affront. So she thought he’d come crawling to her now? No. But he had to have her. That goody-goody gold, nice as she was, would never fully understand the young woman. Ophelia’s anger fueled the bismuth’s, and had done so since he’d first become acquainted with her mind at the Touching. It was like six cups of klah too early in the morning- the energy was staggering, and he would crash without it.

The Tidal Gold waited as patiently as she had in the egg, standing near to Eavan as though reserving her own strength. Her stomach was growling, so she growled quietly back at it. She would wait until the others had chosen their humans before taking the next step for herself. At the moment, she could see what was going on better from this vantage point, keep tabs on the Simmering Bismuth. A soft trill of concern went unnoticed, except perhaps by Eavan (who was near enough to hear it) as the dark dragonet flared his nostrils vehemently.

One moment, the bismuth was sitting, facing away from the young dancer. The next, he had gone between… to reappear directly in front of her. You are Mine,[/color] he asserted furiously, taking her hand between his sharp little baby teeth but not biting down. His eyes were the same red as before, but other colors trickled through around the edges; not the full rainbow of Impression, as the young woman’s negative thoughts warded him from a more complete joining. I go where you go. Unless I go for good. The words seemed to exhaust his supply, for he fell silent, fiercely meeting her eyes. It was not a tender moment, but the need in the outspoken, freely-heard mindvoice was as real as his anger that she could so easily walk away.

Without her, he would perish.

Ronith, the Simmering

Color: Bismuth (atypical)
Final Size: 43’ long
Optional Theme Songs: "I’m So Sick” (Flyleaf) / “Hate Me” (Blue October)

Appearance: Ronith has a startling look that’s almost completely due to his hide; a colorblind person would have trouble seeing what all the fuss was about. The skin of his face is just barely reddish-brown, hardly distinguishable from the dark blackness it blends into. Where his neck meets his chest, a broad streak of blue washes across the black of his shoulders in a vertical line, passes over his flanks, and shoots halfway down his tail. (This blue streak will look like a ribbon in the wind when he finally takes to the air.) All four legs have a lighter variant of brown on them, matching his tail tips. His metallic bronze wings cause a bit of controversy; they shade from black wing-shoulders to a bright spot at the elbow, then back into darker hues across the bones and membranes. His hatchling size is tiny, all things considered, but steady growth will put him up into the ‘small bronze’ size range. His wings from leading edge to trailing edge are comparable to a blue’s, but they aren’t quite as narrow. Agility he will have; endurance, he will not, unless by persistent conditioning.

[/b]
[li]General -
There are fighting dragons, and then there’s Ronith. Whatever softness there could have been in him is underdeveloped; as a hatchling, he doesn’t even know how to respond to it in others. He was born with the knowledge that he would never meet his blood mother, and that started him on the path to his angry debut in the world. His eyes rarely leave the red spectrum. Quick to snap and snarl, he defends his rider almost obsessively from the nearness of other humans. He is the only creature allowed to tease His, with very few exceptions. A more stubborn dragon has rarely been seen on the face of Pern- or one more contrary. He always knew he was different, special. He has a mean streak that he may never outgrow- the side that snorts with laughter as Threadscore eats the head right off another dragon’s rider, or someone falls in the mud. Add the element of bronzes in close proximity and it’s a recipe for disaster- the bismuth sees the similarities between himself and the male metallic stereotype, and arrogantly assumes himself to be their superior. Strangely enough, that’s just how he feels about his rider.

If his demands are met and his ego placated, he can be quite productive. Just don’t expect him to hold long conversations. Ronith isn’t much for clever diatribe and witty repartee, feeling himself to be best served by succinctness. It isn’t his problem if it’s perceived as a rude attitude, and anyway, if he means ‘eat feces’ then that’s exactly what he’ll say. That doesn’t mean he can’t be clever, but it’s such a waste of time when you could condense the same amount of venom. Intimidation comes naturally- apologies and cuddling, not so much. Ronith wants to be doing things. When he’s in motion, he’s… well, not happy, exactly, but more relaxed. He’s more likely to work with his rider (and others) if he can be active. His performance is motivated largely by ambition. The Cloudburst Brown wants to be a Weyrleader? Ronith wants to rule all the Weyrs. By whatever means necessary. One can only hope maturity will bring some measure of peace to the temperamental bismuth, whatever its source.
[/li][li]Reproduction -
Mating Flights with Ronith could be the name of a horror novel, for some hidebound oldsters. He’ll chase for the sake of personal relief, but when he isn’t the lucky suitor, he may be tempted to chase the other males instead. Some of them may even be amenable to being chased. Stir that in your fellis juice and swallow, grandma! When female dragons have assured themselves once that yes, he is fully male in spite of his oddities, he may have a harder time convincing them to Choose him. Being suave isn’t a natural strong point. As to fathering eggs- the interest is there, but it isn’t an all-encompassing wish or anything. Gratification is what he wants; otherwise, it’ll probably have more in common with a business transaction than a romantic encounter.
[/li][li]Threadfall -
Some dragons rely solely on their flight speed, endurance, or wits to fight Thread. Ronith has his own secret weapon- deft use of between. His inborn ability is available on the ground; his sense of where is as strong as a white’s sense of when. He is just as quickly drained by teleporting as anyone else, but flicking here and there to flame is apparently the name of his game. An added advantage is that he doesn’t need the safety of altitude before going between- he slips into it from the ground just as easily. The energy of anger sustains him more than physical prowess during ‘falls. Unfortunately, his participation in Threadfighting depends entirely on his mood; the better he feels, the harder it is for him to focus on utter destruction.
[/li][li]The Bond -
Ronin likes the challenge that Ophelia represents. Grudgingly, he respects her strength, but he is fascinated by her possessiveness toward him from the egg. Her occasional cold rage mirrors his own, giving him the opportunity to study it from another perspective. The bismuth thinks he can liberate her from the societal norms she does abide by- whether she agrees with him is another matter. It may take some convincing to get him to treat her like an equal member of their relationship, however.[/li][/ul]

---

Rusith had curled her head around and was regarding the timid Smoky Gray still hiding behind her foot. The muddy gold lifted her foot away from the gray, and was amused at the squeak and dive for another hiding place. Sooner or later, a decision would have to be made, or the gray would die. Surely the little one knew that.

The Tidal Gold dragged herself upright and paced toward the Smoky Gray. The bright gold touched noses with the hesitant silvery hatchling, then proceeded to start grooming her briefly so Rusith could move away. Kadia could barely feel her bad hip aching as she critically examined the odd little dragonling. It seemed to be healthy enough. Why, then, was it so strangely colored? The rare queens who had hide like white gold always had some patch of their true color on their bodies, however faint; something to give them away. This Smoky Gray was too small to fit into that category, just as the Simmering Bismuth had been too exotic to fit into any category. It made the goldrider wonder what else was different about them.

[azure]

He couldn't help the sigh of disappointment as the wildly colored dragon picked Ophelia. Opal looked at him with a cocked head 'are you crazy?' feel and yes, wanting that hatchling was crazy.

He hadn't liked it in the shell and didn't like it out of the shell but if he had been able to train that fierceness into fighting thread and learning to fly, he would have had a heck of a dragon.

There were two left. Well, there was one who might chose him. The one from the echoing egg. Other then that it was hiding, he had no idea what it was like.It seemed to be shy, like Opal was.

[ambigious]

[ooc: Snow, I totally love you right now XD]

With each stiff, self assured step that she took, Ophelia's fury slowly began to face until it was a heat simmering beneath the surface. However, that meant that she was able to hear the words that Eavan spoke objectively, and they startled her. She'd expected some sort of retort from the girl, but certainly not that. What startled her worst of all, however, were the unspoken words that Eavan left out. If she hadn't moved forward on account of thinking Ophelia meant to harm the fledglings -- it was a misunderstanding, she realized, mostly fueled by her own mind numbing anger -- then why had she moved? That confusion nagged at the back of her mind, and her pace slowed, part of her wanting to turn back around, the other part too stubborn to give in.

As the last of Eavan's words reached Ophelia's ears, the young woman stopped in her tracks, her willowy figure rigid on the Sands. Running away. Running away was all she knew how to do, she realized at that moment. It had been the only way she knew how to cope with the circumstances of her life, she just hadn't realized it until that moment. Fresh irritation washed through her, though it was mostly directed at herself. Foolish, foolish girl, she berated herself, still fuming silently. Abruptly, a blast of cold air warmed her face, and her eyes widened in disbelief as she found the bismuth standing before her. You are Mine,[/i] the angry voice exploded in her mind, and she could feel the senseless rage running through him. Unable to react, Ophelia merely stared as the hulking creature reached forward and took her hand into his jaws, his baby teeth putting pressure on her skin without breaking it. As if the physical contact was a release, Ophelia could smell the stench of burning carcass, as an equally sinister presence attempted to wrap itself around her mind.

Instinctively, Ophelia struggled, even as she began to make sense of the bismuth's actions. I go where you go,[/i] Ronith added vehemently, unless I go for good.[/i] That caused Ophelia to stop her struggling and merely stare at the dragonet, gazing for the first time into those red, bloodlust eyes. She could see the faint traces of Impression at the corners, but could also feel the separation in their link. It was as if...Ronith was there, with her, undeniably, but he wasn't a part of her. Then, as she continued to stare into those infernoes, his words clicked. Ophelia had mistakenly assumed he meant in that moment, but he'd meant forever. In fact, she realized as she searched his eyes, his maw still closed tightly around her hand, he was hurt.

"I hurt you, didn't I?" she whispered, and Ronith's lips pulled back in a snarl. You walked away,[/i] he said flatly, the heat of his personality still rolling over her. Don't walk away from me. Ever.[/i] As his intentions became clear, Ophelia stopped struggling, and finally allowed the bond to come full circle, the full rainbow of Impression -- somehow mottled with the red of anger -- overtaking Ronith's eyes. A whole slew of emotions she wasn't expecting washed over her -- loyalty, devotion, anger, stubbornness. But most importantly, Ophelia felt that presence in her mind that meant she would never be alone again. "Forgive me, Ronith," she said, "I won't walk away again." Seemingly satisfied, Ronith released her arm and drew himself up. He was still agitated, as was his nature, but his rage had considerably cooled since Ophelia had accepted him.

That is the appropriate response. Feed me,[/i] Ronith said bluntly, which caused Ophelia to chortle. Instantly the bismuth drew himself up angrily, assuming that she was mocking him. "Oh hush," Ophelia snapped back, "I wasn't mocking you. I just wasn't expecting that." I do have needs.[/i] "Yes, and you know I'll take care of you, or else you wouldn't have chosen me." A tense moment of silence ensued before Ronith merely snorted and turned, his multi-hued body moving with a stealthy grace towards the side of the Hatching Sands. I don't have time to deal with your right now. Feed me, or there will be consequences.[/i][ As much as the comment rankled her pride, Ophelia could also feel the huner gnawing at his stomach, and couldn't bear to see Ronith one again reduced to such a vulnerable state as she'd just seen him. Thus, Ophelia followed obediently if a tad grudgingly, unable to take her eyes away from Ronith even as she relished the feeling of their bond.