That DOES NOT go there. {Salamandyr Hatching}

[glamourie]

COMECOME! Come! Come!

Demanding was clearly Showoff's middle name. Animatedly, the little bronze salamandyr scurried into the direction of the Record's Room. For how small he was, he was certainly bookin' it, and for good reason. When he got to the archives, he darted behind one of the shelves, up the side and onto the third level before throwing himself onto one of the nearby walls. He managed to catch himself on the grooves in the wood, and then turned to scurry toward the very back. His frill was flared wide, displaying for all to see (and living up to his name; how gorgeous he thought his frill was!) so that his little reddish-bronze body was impossible to miss. Showoff beat his little wings, and then darted upward, making a shrill chattering noise for all in the Archives to hear. Notice him. IT WAS IMPORTANT!

Padding behind the little bronze was a decidedly tired-looking K'lir. His dark red hair cascaded over his face in loose waves, falling down to his throat and he made no effort to tie it back. He was dressed in way too loose clothing, which suggested that they weren't his, and the length the leggings trailed behind him made it clear that they belonged to his younger brother K'ran. His eyes were half-closed as he followed Showoff in a daze, but his chin was tilted downward because he was carrying in his arms a six-month-old baby. Kahrelir was leaning his head against K'lir's shoulder, drooling, his eyes closed, and his black hair was very prominent against his pale skin. He looked more like his father than should've been natural. The little boy was sound asleep, and even Showoff's animated chittering did not wake him up. Somehow, Kahrelir slept like a lump. K'lir was grateful, too -- he'd just gotten the baby to sleep.

"Where are we going, Showoff?" he asked quietly as he blew a strand of hair out of his face. However, the salamandyr had stopped on the top shelf of one of the rows of scrolls and hides. "What are you doing?"

Me babies! Me babies! Hatch! Me babies! Where Dael? Our babies! Dael? Daelmine? Dunghead-mine get babies?

"Oh, shard it." Wincing, K'lir glanced around the archives before backing up a few steps. His head tilted backward to get a better look at Showoff, who was indeed perching on what appeared to be the highest shelf the Weyr owned. K'lir couldn't even reach it. Piled into a corner behind a stack of records were small salamandyr eggs covered in stolen treasures and what was probably someone's clothing. The greenrider sighed. "Why can't you and Dael keep your eggs somewhere easily accessible? The kitchen last time, now this. Did it ever occur to you how annoying this is?"

Anyone who wants a worm, come to the Archives, bring meat and hurry it up before the little nuisance changes his mind, Calistoth interrupted. She was resting out on the beach, but her amusement was evident from her broadcast. Clearly she was shameless. I like that they keep clutching inconvenient places. Thoth's followed the example. She clutched in a bed. You might want to stand further away or your hatchling might Impress one. It doesn't have a worm to chase them off. S'rei had clearly started something with the term "worm" -- for better or worse. It was all she called Showoff anymore. Adith's might come if the little mother hears me. Have you told him about your egg yet?

"Errr..."

---

The Magnificent Seven
01. Pride Egg Impressed: Green Vanity to Sel'n
02. Lust Egg Impressed: Blue Passion to X'vier
03. Sloth Egg Impressed: Blue Pep to Lanthos
04. Gluttony Egg Impressed: White Star to G'tor
05. Greed Egg Impressed: Brown Troublemaker to O'don
06. Envy Egg Impressed: Green Freckle to Saeo
07. Wrath Egg Impressed: Green Boom to Rinnel

[glamourie]

The Magnificent Seven Clutch
Dam: Gold Dael ~ Sire: Bronze Showoff

Laid on the top shelf of a roll of scrolls, this small clutch is covered primarily in stolen trinkets like earrings, bracelets or shells - anything shiny - along with some scraps of cloth for added warmth. The hides and parchments that make up the top shelf have toppled over to hide some of the eggs from view, clearly a half-baked attempt at camouflaging the nest, though its location so high up would have prevented any human from moving it -- that and the over protective clutch parents, at least...

01. Pride Egg
Vivid violet is this egg, plain as day and brilliant to behold. Shades of blue lace amidst the purple, adding texture like lace to the shell. The different hues meld together like the color of the setting sun, as though twilight were encompassed in the shell, but looks can be deceiving. Closer examination adds hints of black and white as well as darker and lighter shades, and a few ribbon-like markings of a color describable only as oceanic blue-green. The appearance is very reminiscent of a Terran peacock's feathers, and the very bottom of the egg has a distinct golden hue, as if it were dipped in molten metal. When caught by light, the shell's luster is almost blinding.

02. Lust Egg
If red is the color of passion, this egg is the most passionate of the lot. Like the Wrath Egg, the majority of the shell is scarlet, but the hue is considerably different. Like a fine red wine, this shell has a red-violet shade that vintners can appreciate. Spots of pink swirl up along the top, resembling bubbles edged in a glittery rainbow. The bottom of the egg is adorned with darker crimson shadowed in black, bearing a remarkable resemblance to rose petals, as well as tiny splotches of chocolatey brown shaped bizarrely like hearts.

03. Sloth Egg
Quite possibly the most boring egg of the entire clutch, the shell of the Sloth Egg is a very pale gray with undertones of cool winter blue. The only markings that it possesses are blue-hued smears that look as though some invisible hand wiped extra color onto the egg in a moment of pity; certainly it is not the work of art that the rest of the clutch appears to be. Unless the light catches the shell just right, it also appears to be little more than that gray-blue hue; no highlights or extra colors add any level of accent to this egg. Individuals who like 'plain' may find themselves intrigued by this particular egg.

04. Gluttony Egg
Perhaps the quirkiest egg of the lot, this particular one looks... well, like a slice of cherry chip cake. From the front, the egg is pale yellow in color, the top and bottom of the shell looks as though someone slathered it with fruit frosting. A similar layer right at the center adds emphasis to that appeal. Minuscule spots of red adorn the yellow of the egg, resembling tiny pieces of fruit. The back, which faces the rest of the clutch, is a vivid pink just like the top and bottom of the egg, creating a three dimensional effect sure to influence the taste buds of all viewers.

05. Greed Egg
If salamandyr eggs were gold when containing a queen, then this egg would surely be one - never mind the size. Dazzlingly bright, this egg is a vivid yellow gold from top to bottom, with a brilliant sheen cast iridescent in light. The egg looks to be textured as well, as though someone took a thin sheet of silver lace and wound it over the shell. Tiny metallic tendrils seem to grace the entire span of the egg so that it looks as if it would be incredibly valuable. As if it was not memorable enough, this egg also possesses a pale rosy ring around the center that is adorned with white spots that shine in rainbow shades, not unlike diamonds.

06. Envy Egg
Washed out in a shade so bright as to make one's head hurt, there's no denying that this egg is green. The electrified background is highlighted by vine-like patterns twisting around the center of the egg, like some kind of jagged, uneven ribbon. The base of the egg has several leaf-like markings folding from the very bottom outward, as if the egg itself were a bud bursting to bloom. The leaves are a darker hunter green with lighter veining, adding a realism to the shell that is almost startling to behold. To complete this egg's tangled mess of green, there are several splotches of an olive drab near the top like brewing clouds promising the coming of a brutal storm.

07. Wrath Egg
The best word to describe this egg's appearance is memorable. The backdrop is a vivid crimson similar to the color of human blood, but a shade darker. Several swirls form intricate patterns of orange and yellow that add an almost flame-like quality to the shell of this egg. Emphasizing the already vibrant color scheme are miniature spots that seem to glow, like flecks bursting off embers. Each tiny spot is a blinding shade of orange prominent against the semi-dark red base. The final and more eccentric adornment to this egg, though, is the white jagged lines that swirl from top to base, circling the entire egg in what appears to be deep, jagged scratch marks - except that they are smooth to the touch.

[kysseh]

Thwack!

Savitri let out a quiet yelp and clapped both hands across the back of her bruised head, rubbing mournfully at the fresh injuries. Realization was slow in coming as her brain started itself back up, the pain in the back of her head and her neck making it hard to focus on getting her mind in order. She sat up slowly, mindful now to not bump her head again on the shelf that was overhanging the desk she had crashed at. What time it was was unclear from her immediate surroundings, and for a brief moment, she wondered if she had not slept for half a day. The last coherent memory she had was of reading over a scroll on the musculature of the human back...

Her hands migrated around to rub at her sleepy green eyes, and she groaned quietly as she straightened her back, making a face as her spine obediently popped and cracked its way back to a mimicry of straightness. Well... she had been asleep for awhile, apparently. It took her a moment to wonder why she was awake, and then she registered the voice of... a rather amused-sounding dragon. Not Hepaticath. No, not me. Calistoth. Apparently, there are 'mandyr-things hatching in the archives with you. You should go watch, Mine. the gold said quietly, amused at the fact that Savitri was silently grumbling at her. The White Thing will make sure that none of them attach to you.

Hepaticath's reference to Shadow was startling, and Savitri felt little prickles on her chest as the white 'mandyr squirmed around in between her breasts. Well... at least she was not unaccompanied, and the young woman carefully extricated herself from the chair, wincing as joints protested to the sudden change in position. She heard a voice somewhere off to her right, and after taking a minute to put all her things in order and return the--thankfully-- drool-free scroll to its original spot, she moved to investigate. She had no meat, of course, but she didn't want one of the little beasts. The clawed white critter that was squirming around in her shirt was quite enough for her. Curiosity and the fact that she was still too wobbly to walk out the door kept her present, and she peered blearily up at the bronze 'mandyr and the half-covered clutch that he guarded. All far above her eye level, of course.

She spied the greenrider and an adorable infant, and it was a chore to resist the instinctive urge to coddle the little child. He appeared to be sleeping, and Savitri was still asleep enough to not want screeches tearing at her eardrums. Her hand lifted to rub at her eyes again, hand shifting the strap of her bag on her shoulder. She had retreated to the archives in her free time to keep her mind from wandering into unhealthy areas. Her chosen scroll had not helped. As soon as she began reading on the musculature of the back, her mind immediately jumped to the memory of Aslath's Flight, of stroking her hands over the scarred portion of her lover's upper back. Her cheeks flushed now at the very memory of that realization that had distracted her from studying, and she coughed quietly and turned aside to cover her blush, edging away from the greenrider and the shelf containing the clutch. Yes, it would be safer over here...

[Rei]

Sel’n looked up from the weyrling lesson plan he was currently pouring over. Worms? Kaao who would bring a bunch of worms into the Archives and why would you need meat? Kaaoloth rumbled in amusement from his ledge, his eyes whirling in excited shades. I have no idea Selmine. Why don’t you grab that meat roll sitting next to you and go find out? Now why the heck would I care Kaao? Just go….Please? The brownriders’s eyebrow raised a fraction at the pleading tone Kaaoloth had used. The brown rarely asked for anything and when he happened to Sel’n just couldn’t refuse.

Giving a snort he vacated his chair and gave a stretch before grabbing up the meat roll as instructed and striding into the adjacent room. There he stopped to survey his surroundings. Savitri was there along with Calistoth’s rider K’lir who was holding an infant that was clearly his. A sudden movement from the bronze mander drew Sel’n’s attention to the top shelf, where the creature perched, and he couldn’t stop the groan that sprang to his lips. Kaaoloth! You overgrown wher. A mander hatching? You know I can’t stand the little things.

Kaaoloth snorted from his ledge, Since you dislike them so much they will probably avoid you like the plague but will you please stay so I can watch the hatching? Sel’n rolled his eyes but leaned against the wall. Fine but I am not taking one home. Kaaoloth send loving feelings to his bonded and rumbled. It wasn’t as if his rider had a choice if one choose him he would have to feed it right?

[Kisha-Ra]

Worms? O’dan repeated blankly to Emerith, looking up from the letter home he was attempting to write, he’d received news from his mother that his oldest sister was going to have another baby (apparently the things people did to make babies were as popular as ever despite the Weyr baby boom being nearly over). The letter lay on the desk as a maternal accusation that O’dan hadn’t written in nearly a turn.

I believe she is talking about salamandyrs.[/color] Emerith replied, lifting her head from her muzzle on crossed forelegs snoozing position to watch O’dan’s reaction.

Salamandyrs! O’dan sat bolt upright and looked around for something to feed hatchling salamandyrs. He’d been desperate to Impress one ever since he met J’on’s Wraith, but had never managed it despite attending both the hatchings that had gone on since he arrived at the Weyr, he didn’t seem to be able to Impress a flitter either, sometimes he thought it was an accident that he Impressed a dragon. Where are they? he asked Emerith, forgetting what he heard only a moment ago.

Archives, didn’t you take in anything Calistoth said? There’s a half eaten meatroll by your left elbow.[/color] Emerith supplied her forgetful rider with both bits of information he required. O’dan snatched up the meatroll and ran off as fast as his feet could take him. Don’t trip on the stairs.[/color] Emerith cautioned him, though she was forced to admit it probably wouldn’t slow O’dan’s headlong dash at all.

It turned out the Archives was a long way to run from O’dan’s new weyr. He arrived panting and leaned gratefully against a wall. The clutch was up on a shelf that people must have passed every day but never looked up at, Dael and Showoff certainly picked the weirdest places to make nests…

[Rowana]

"Worms?" G'tor blinked as Ruskeath relayed Calistoth message. He looked up from his task of making a fishing rod for Fanras's birthday and scratched his head. "I didn't think worms ate meat, and why do we have to feed them?" Ruskeath rumbled in amusement. <I believe she means salamandyrs> he translated thoughtfully.

"Oh." For a moment G'tor did not entirely interpret the message and went back to work, but then his head shot back up. "Oh!" He set the fishing pole down and began hurriedly searching his room. Ruskeat watched him with interest. <What are you doing?> "I'm looking for that...aha!" G'tor triumphantly pulled out a pair of meatrolls he had left over from that days packed lunch. <I thought you wanted a fire lizard?> Ruskeath pointed out. G'tor shrugged. "I did, but a 'mandyr is just as good really and maybe I'll have better luck with one of them." <Ah> the brown dragon replied in a dismissive manner. He liked the idea of having a small friend around and didn't really care what species it was in the end. <Good luck.>

"Thanks!> G'tor waved to his dragon as he ran down to the archive room. Several others were already there when he arrived. He recognized Kaaoloth's rider Sel'n and even one of the queenriders, Savitri, was here. He didn't immediately recognize the others, but he did know them to be riders. It made a change from the last fire lizard hatching, where most of the hopefuls had been candidates. Perhaps the youngsters weren't as interesting in these, or maybe they hadn't arrived yet.

Waving a cheery greeting to the others, he could just about see the clutch on a high shelf. Salamandyrs certainly had some odd habits, but he wasn't complaining. He couldn't tell how many eggs from here. He would just have to wait and see if today was his lucky day or not. At least several people were going to have a lucky day at least, he thought with a smile. Hatchings were always a joy to attend.

[hseru]

Lanthos was shuffling through the clothes in the chest at the foot of his bed when the broadcast surprised him so much that he released the lid, the chest slamming shut with a startlingly loud noise. Kit, the little patchy kitten sleeping on his pillow, snapped his head upright, ears alert, eyes wide. Blinking sleepily around, and finding nothing other than Lanthos to occupy his attention, he curled up again to go back to sleep with a little huff. Lanthos snorted at him, then opened the chest once more to make sure he hadn't damaged anything, namely his lute.

Assured that the instrument was unhurt, he wondered what these 'worms' were. The need for meat, however, assured him that it was likely some impressionable animal found running around the Weyr, and that ultimately decided him. Flitts? He'd never heard them called that, but there was no telling what the dragons thought of their smaller cousins. What if it was one of those... salamandyrs? He'd promised E'yan that he'd try and train one, and if it wasn't, Lanthos had yet to find a creature he'd been unwilling to work with. Nodding to himself, he quickly repacked his trunk, glad that he still had it to himself, however much longer that would last.

He quickly dashed down the hall, jogging the distance to the kitchens so he could slip in on the way to snag some of the prepared meat, begging and cajoling the cooks to allow and forgive him for taking it. They gave him a small bowl with enough meat to feed, in their estimation, a handful of flitt hatchlings, so if anyone happened to forget meat, he'd have some to spare. He left with promises to return and show off any newly acquired pets, if he was so lucky.

He arrived at the archives several moments later, bowl in hand, and slightly winded. Unable to immediately see where the happy event was taking place, Lanthos roamed further into the place, walking slowly to catch his breath. He finally came upon the small group of people, all of them riders. Feeling slightly intimidated, he strode forward, following upturned gazes to the hidden nest, barely visible from his vantage point, and silently began to wait behind the others, his fingertips lightly tapping the edges of his bowl in anticipation.

[archenstone]

X'vier was in the kitchen pilfering something to munch on when he heard the announcement. So....Mirazeth...what does she mean by that? He could feel Mirazeth stretch out under the warmth of the sun. It's a Mandyr hatching mine. Go look at it. I know you've never seen one before... X'vier glanced down at leftover roast he had found. You sure? I hear they can be a handful. Contemplating it he sliced another piece and ate it.

Sure Mine... it will be interesting to have one. Well, if Mirazeth thought it would be interesting...then X'vier was game. He made a few more slices, some for him and some for a salamander if it came to him. Then headed for the archives.

As he walked over to the group of people he saw where the clutch is and chuckled. How funny...Mirazeth... they clutched on top of a bunch of scrolls! He wondered why they found that a good spot. Certainly high.... not something one would notice... wat it instinctual for them to seek such places? Questions buzzed in his mind as he ate another piece of roast. He had a handful...surely the mandyr wouldn't mind...there was always more.

[glamourie]

Nono they want babies! Showoff said to K'lir as he slinked around the edge of the shelf, no doubt to prevent anyone from reaching up and touching the eggs. They will hurt babies!

"They won't," K'lir said softly as he cast a glance at Savitri. Without any hesitation, he stepped over to her and passed Kahrelir to the girl. "Hold him a moment." It wasn't a request. He fully expected her to take the baby without question. Despite that expectation, though, he did give an explanation of why, "I need to move Showoff and Dael's eggs down where the salamandyrs won't get hurt when they hatch and I don't have enough arms to hold him and the eggs. Since Uu'n and Dael aren't here, Showoff won't let anyone else close enough to do it. I'll take him back in a second." Savitri was a Junior Weyrwoman. Surely she could be trusted with the baby? He twitched in paranoia, but forcibly turned himself back to the shelves. Savitri wouldn't hurt the baby. She wouldn't. No one could hurt something as cute as Kahrelir. Surely? Surely. He hoped not, at least, though the tenseness in his stomach was rapidly increasing. Only he and Beka held Kahrelir. No one else ever did...

Blinking twice, Kahrelir opened his eyes, then leaned his head on Savitri's shoulder shamelessly. He either did not notice or - more likely - didn't much care who was holding him so long as he was being held. He remained quiet, though his eyes, which were the exact shade of amber that K'lir's were, remained snagged on his father. The little boy shoved his palm straight into his mouth and cooed quietly, as if the show were something very interesting to him. Perhaps it was.

K'lir grabbed a chair and pulled it over to the book case before climbing right on top of it. No doubt the archivist would have a royal tantrum for him standing on the furniture, but hey, he had drool down his front and a distressed salamandyr. What did he care about people? "Showoff, I'm going to move these -" Nono Daelnowant! "- so that your babies don't get hurt when they hatch. Dael can bite me herself when she gets here." His words earned a quiet hiss from Showoff, but the bronze leaped onto his shoulder, resigned to the fact that K'lir was going to do it whether he liked it or not. The greenrider grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it up and off. Then he pushed the eggs and the trinkets onto the shirt and turned around to set them on a much lower surface: the nearest table. The Wrath Egg toppled over against the side of the Pride Egg, causing both eggs to crack slightly in the process. K'lir eyed them, then hopped off his chair and put it back at the table where it went.

"All right. Most people here probably haven't been to a salamandyr hatching so I'm going to make it brief: you don't touch the eggs, you don't touch Showoff, you don't put anything near the eggs, and you don't - well, just stay away from the clutch because he will bite you if you don't, and I'm not taking responsibility for stitches," he said as he stepped back over toward Savitri, arms outstretched, in case she wanted to give Kahrelir back. "Once you Impress, get out of the way so others can. Salamandyrs generally don't like sharing so if you Impress one, you're probably not going to get another's attention in any positive manner..."

The Greed Egg wobbled slightly. Set right on top of it was a large golden charm bracelet that Showoff almost certainly stole from someone. It looked almost like a decoration and as the egg began to split down the sides, it was nearly impossible to ignore. However, it was not the first egg to completely break. That title went to the Pride Egg which shuddered and broke, spilling forth a small green salamandyr still slick with egg goop. She flapped her wings twice and then reached out to flick the Greed Egg with her tail in defiance, as if insulting it for daring to almost-hatch when she was trying to. Frilling her distaste, the little green salamandyr climbed up onto the larger egg, settling right on top of it before looking around at all of the people at the hatching, as if to determine if any of them were worthy of her.

---

The Magnificent Seven
01. Pride Egg Hatched: Green
02. Lust Egg
03. Sloth Egg
04. Gluttony Egg
05. Greed Egg cracked
06. Envy Egg
07. Wrath Egg

[binker]

Pepsi was feeling quite miserable. His bandaged shoulder burned, his wrapped back itched, he was lonely and he was /hungry/. Not only that, but he was tired of the infirmary; having to go back to have his wounds re-bandaged wasn’t a fun task when you were treated like a canine that might snap at any time. He was aware that he should have gone back a few days ago to have someone change them, but he was putting it off; he had survived such wounds without all the plants and cloth, he could live without shedding them so often!

After sneaking in to the kitchen for some food (which earned him a smack of a spoon on his hand,) he wandered around the Weyr, nursing his wounds and picking at the food he had taken. It didn’t look so appetizing when others got the same food easily, where he was usually given the lower-quality scraps leftover. The kitchen workers seemed to think him a bother, and he was getting tired of being yelled at and hit…

Loneliness gnawing at him, he decided to search for N’lai in the Archives. He had liked learning to read, and even his writing was getting better, but now N’lai was too busy for him. Maybe if he brought him food, he would teach him some more? If he was in the Archives that is, and not with that dragon…

He had been walking through the Archives searching for the Weyrling when he saw Showoff climb up the wall and on to the shelves. How curious; he had never seen creatures do that… It looked like a mutated firelizard, and the thought made him think of the Gold firelizard that had caused his capture within the Weyr. He turned away, ready to dismiss the whole thing, when the broadcast went out and made him jump. Worms? Food? Archives? Did dragons ever make sense…? Still, when he saw the others grouping together an gawking up at something, he was curious enough to wish to find out.

Padding lightly over to the group he recognized one other at least, the healer-woman. The others were strangers though, and he felt edgy. He didn't like new people; he never knew what to expect from them...

[Rowana]

G'tor thought to help K'lir, but stopped himself as the other explained more about salamandyrs. He nodded his understanding and listened carefully to all the instructions. He had never been to a 'mandyr hatching before and despite similarities, it seemed that it would be quite different from a fire lizard one. Glancing around at the others as the greenrider spoke, G'tor spotted a younger face lurking in the back. So one of the candidates had shown up after all. G'tor couldn't blame him for being intimidated, but that was no reason to stand so far from the clutch.

He stepped back so that the boy, Lanthos, would have a better view of the table where the eggs now rested. "You won't be able to see from back there," he said in an encouraging tone. He gave the boy a welcoming smile. He liked young people, particularly candidates and didn't see any reason why the boy should feel left out or out of place. At that moment, the first egg split and a little green emerged. She was different from a fire lizard, of course, but G'tor was delighted to see her. Color and rank meant nothing to him, he only hoped that one of the little wonders would find him to its liking.

[hseru]

They -were- salamandyrs! The small bronze creature, probably the sire of the clutch, could be nothing else, what with those tiny frills and bright colors. Not quite like he'd imagined, according to how he'd heard them described, but interesting and amazing nevertheless.

Lanthos blinked, then gave a small smile back to the brownrider, stepping forward a little to move into the space he'd stepped aside to make, all the better to see the nest now sitting on the table. He appreciated the move, and said as much.

"Thanks.. I've never been to a hatching before.. for anything." He said quietly. Lanthos motioned his bowl upwards in offering to the rider. "I got this from the kitchens, and from the size of that little guy, I'm most definitely gonna have more than I'd ever need, if I get so lucky. You need any?"

It was then that the little green hatched from her glittering egg, and thoughts of further conversation were swept away as he watched the hatching with a somewhat goofy smile, evidence of his happiness at being able to stand witness.

[antinanco]

Savitri was not the only one who had been dozing off.

Rinnel had fallen asleep at breakfast, or his dinner rather, and was snoozing quite soundly before a voice echoed in his head. He was jolted awake by the message, splashing cold klah on the counter. Still only half-awake, he attempted to slop the mess up with the napkin that had fallen onto his lap during his slumber. It was unusual for the handler to fall asleep during the day, especially in such a public place as the Dining Hall, but recently he had been avoiding the Barracks like the plaque after Risk’s most recent run. For about a fortnight after every run he was like this despite whatever the outcome was: a heaping pile of sulking grumpy. But soon he was snapped out of his surly state as an unnoticed person next to him made their presence known.

“ ‘Morning, sleepyhead!” he heard a shrill voice sound next to him, interrupting his decoding of the mental message he had received. With dread he turned to find a familiar face: the crèchewoman he had spent three turns with in the wild, happily munching on a meat roll as she awaited his awakening. Laef was nowhere in sight, possibly currently being tossed around in the crèche by the ‘brats. Good. She looked ridiculous with that thing draped on her like a piece of jewelry. Rinnel’s brows shot up in surprise, then scowled at Ieoha.

“Don’t look so surprised, sweetie. I was just watching over to make sure nobody disturbed you. Like when you were a baby! So cute…” She trailed off with a wistful sigh and patted Rinnel sympathetically on the back. He twitched, resisting the urge to shrug her off. If it had been anyone else… “I know that Risk’s runs take a lot out of you, baby. But I know just the thing that will cheer you up! You’re going to go to the Worm Hatching!” She thrusted a bowl of raw meat at him, beaming.

Rinnel rolled his eyes and went back to mopping his split klah. He replied bitterly, “Yes, a handful of earth-creepers will definitely improve my mood.”

“Tsch! You haven’t learned anything since we immigrated here, have you?” Ieoha shook her head in disgrace. “Worms are the pet-name for the little salamandyr things they have here. They’re like flitters, only better,” she explained weakly, but he saw through her thin veil of excitement with an evil eye. “Stop that staring! Do you want me to haul you there myself? You know I will!” She rebutted with an evil eye of her own, and the two found themselves locked in a battle of wills.

After a few seconds of staring, Rinnel finally crumbled, slumping in his chair with an exasperated sigh. He just wasn’t in the mood to be rebellious today. Besides, none of those things would want him, a smelly wherhandler. Maybe if he just went and waited it out then the auntie would leave him alone. “Fine, let’s go,” he grumbled submissively and hauled himself out of his chair painstakingly. Soon they were out the doorway and making their way to the Records Room.

By the time the two arrived, it looked like there was already a good crowd gathered and one ‘mandyr had already hatched. Rinnel glanced back at Ieoha as he paused in the doorway, but she remained rooted in hallway a few feet back.

“Are you coming in?” he queried sullenly, not really caring at this point.

“Nah, I don’t need one of those little wormy-things. Laef’s a handful enough as it is,” she dismissed with the wave of a hand and wandered off down the hall, content that she successfully socialized Rinnel once more. The real reason for her hasty retreat was that these salamandyrs were a new, foreign thing to the old woman. And like most old people, new things scared her.

The greenhandler shrugged and entered the Records room. He was used to Ieoha’s quirkiness, so her strange actions didn’t weight much on his mind as he took a place towards the back of the crowd. Balancing on his toes, he peered over heads to watch the process of the Hatching. Odd, he hadn’t noticed a nest of tiny eggs last time he had been in Record’s Room. Then again, coming here wasn’t exactly a pastime of his and he couldn’t recall precisely when his last visit was. He shrugged, almost sending himself pin-wheeling off-balance, but he managed to keep a grip upon his balance and shifted the bowl in his hands slightly. Unoccupied, his eyes lingered upon the green.

That was interesting! They were sort of like flitters, only more like lizards, or maybe a bastard child from the two of them! Usually he didn’t have much patience for anything without a practical use, but he connected with these little pathetic runts. Though, he hoped all the worms didn’t take as long as this little green was taking to choose. Then he’d be here forever…

((Post during lunchwave FTW!))

[/font]

[glamourie]

The Pride Green looked around for a moment, her gaze critical. Harumph. She flicked her long, sinuous tail animatedly and crawled along the side of the Greed Egg, trying to get a better look. Individuals were discarded for various discerning reasons, some for being female (for she would never share with another girl) and some simply for being unworthy of the likes of her. Could they not see what a beauty she was, how deserving of attention lavished on her she happened to be? Disgruntled, she stood up on her hind legs and displayed in what was meant to be an intimidating posture. Look at her! Look at how impressive she was! Why were they not fawning, not praising her every movement like the glorious wonder she was? She shuffled her tiny wings and then turned to look around once more. It was a sweeping glance, and she snorted loud enough for all to hear.

Bad! she announced, though where she picked that particular word up was anyone's guess. It was broadcast to all, as if she was discontent with her selection. BadbadbadbadBAAAA!!!

Beneath the Pride Green, the Greed Egg gave another shudder and toppled over, causing the little female to fall flat onto the table with a wet sticking sound. Tons of cracks spiderwebbed over the egg, which rocked back and forth violently for several minutes before finally stilling. She turned to look at it before spitting in irritation and her tail flicked out to smack the egg again. How dare that egg knock her over when she was trying to pick someone?

Unfortunately for her, the Pride Green was so distracted by the largest egg in the clutch that she did not realize her animated movements knocked the Sloth Egg over. What toppled out could only be described as a big blue lump of flesh, rolling around in egg gook. He let loose with a quiet chirp that made the Pride Green turn around and start jumping in distress, and the chittering sounds she gave could only be described as lecturing. Whether or not the Sloth Blue was listening was another story, though, for he simply curled into a small ball and did not react to his clutchsister's adamant scolding. He looked for all the world as if he intended to go back to sleep, and the Pride Green flared her frill and wings in obvious anger.

BAD! Furious at her inability to scold him with any level of success, the Pride Green finally gave up and stalked away from the clutch. She would not be outdone by any of them! She would pick first and she would pick the best - the rest weren't worthy! Her gaze fell on one of the males in the crowd and she scurried quickly down the leg of the table, her movement causing the Sloth Blue to open one eye and watch her go. He didn't move, but the green ran quickly before zooming straight up Sel'n's pant leg shamelessly before proclaiming, MINE! for all to hear. He was the best, you see, and she'd settle for nothing less!

---

The Magnificent Seven
01. Pride Egg Impressed: Green ? to Sel'n
02. Lust Egg
03. Sloth Egg Hatched: Blue
04. Gluttony Egg
05. Greed Egg cracked
06. Envy Egg
07. Wrath Egg

[glamourie]

Pride Green
Color: Green #00AB18
Gender: Female
Age: Hatchling
Looks to: Sel'n

Physical Description: For all appearances, this salamandyr is a very normal green. Built slender and delicate, she's conventionally pretty as far as her physique goes. Complete with dainty wings that are blatantly more for show than functionality, this little female is everything one would expect a salamandyr to be. Even her eyes, which are slightly wide for a 'mandyr, add to the allure, giving her an almost innocent appearance. Her coloring is rich, yellow-green with darker splotches that add depth to her appearance. Numerous hunter green spots line down her back, allowing for perfect camouflage in the wilderness. Leaves and tree branches are the ideal hiding place for this female. Her underbelly is a blurred, messy green color, like grass stains. When light hits her hide just right, she reflects like an emerald, multifaceted and vivid, with varying hues of green that only emphasize her picture-perfect appearance.

Personality: Literally the perfect proof that looks can be deceiving, one will never meet a green with more ego than this salamandyr. Perfectly content to boss around other creatures (regardless of color - she's fearless), there is no missing her presence in a crowd. She's rather loud, and perfectly happy to broadcast what she has to say. Part of what makes this a less-than-endearing trait is that she's verbose, particularly for a green, able to form out close to full sentences when she gets focused... and her statements are usually quite condescending. There's no denying this green is intelligent, she'll be the first one to tell you so. In addition to being clever, she's excessively vain and it won't be unusual to find her preening. Other females are unwelcome simply because they might contest with her beauty, and she likes reflective surfaces best so that she can admire herself. Woe betide the fool who doesn't worship her every movement.