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FYI..
Jul 18, 2010 13:14:30 GMT -5
Post by Maykat on Jul 18, 2010 13:14:30 GMT -5
Good luck with everything, Lissa. I hope you get feeling better soon.
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V'mio
Jul 17, 2010 15:58:23 GMT -5
Post by Maykat on Jul 17, 2010 15:58:23 GMT -5
.5 marks from egg color guesses
6 + .5 = 6.5 marks
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Batavia
Jul 17, 2010 15:57:38 GMT -5
Post by Maykat on Jul 17, 2010 15:57:38 GMT -5
1 mark from egg color guesses
3.5 + 1.0 = 4.5 marks
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Post by Maykat on Jul 17, 2010 15:23:56 GMT -5
Batavia moved around the table to sit with her back towards the wall. She had a pretty good view of the festivities without have to turn much. "Kick you out?" she asked, easing herself down onto the bench across from Aidaen. "I think out of all of us, you've got the most Turns to go before they kick you out." She pulled a plate of food towards her and picked a sweet off with her fingers. "You don't want to live in a cave anyway. You'd get lonely."
“One of the cobblers is looking for another helper. You should think about learning how to make shoes, it’ll be a useful skill,” was her random suggestion as she pointed the sweet at him before popping it into her mouth. It was nice knowing she had a back-up craft already in place. Most of the holdbred candidates had no training and had to find some craft or weyr worker to apprentice to after being left standing. The harpers began warming up on their stage and Batavia’s toes wiggled inside her sandals. She decided that after some more wine she just might be able to take a turn during a slow song.
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Post by Maykat on Jul 14, 2010 18:44:52 GMT -5
Batavia quickly handed S’lain the necessary supplies. She moved two glow baskets to give him better light and opened the rest further. She rubbed her hands down with redwort and began preparing a tray on a stand with needles and suture. She stood on his ‘good’ side, out of the light, and watched intently. Humans seemed so small compared to dragons, and not the right color either. Batavia was used to green ichor rather than red blood but she stood firm and watched carefully, ready to help out any way she was needed.
It wasn’t a wherry, it wasn’t a knife, Batavia mentally ran through her experiences with laceration injuries. Too small for a dragon, too big for a firelizard. “Maybe a baby wher,” she offered, glancing briefly at Rozen before turning her attention back to the injured man. “Are there any wild ones on the island?”
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Post by Maykat on Jul 13, 2010 16:36:56 GMT -5
All things considered, Batavia’s body was actually feeling pretty good. She had eight neat, clean stitches across the center of her stomach, right above her navel. The scratch continued on both sides for several more inches but wasn’t deep enough to require being sewn together. Now her stomach was slathered in numbweed and wrapped with a bandage, and despite feeling sore and not wanting to twist her body, Batavia was feeling pretty good. The skin of Tillek wine she had already put away was helping matters also.
She had taken it off a serving girl on her way back from the infirmary to the barracks and finished it off while getting ready. The sponge bath had helped her mental state as much as her physical; at least she wasn’t covered in sweat and sand anymore. He had literally let her hair down and it hung down her back in rippling waves. It was greasy at the crown and around her hairline but her stomach hurt too bad to bend over and wash it properly. Her other two best assets were on full display, pushed up by a breastband and framed by a low cut tunic.
A plate of food in each hand and with several wine skins hanging off her arms, Batavia slowly navigated the throngs of people at the Feast. She headed for a table in the corner where several other left-over candidates were sitting. Batavia could see her own emotions mirrored on the faces of her peers: disappointment, embarrassment, resignation, a forced cheerfulness. She slid the plates onto the table first, and then unloaded her wineskins. “In honor of the big occasion,” she said with a grin, “I thought we all might like a treat.” With a flourish, she unhooked a smaller pouch from her belt. “Quickal. Guaranteed to put hair your chest.” Batavia took the first swig and passed it to the left.
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Post by Maykat on Jul 11, 2010 20:34:51 GMT -5
Batavia pressed her left hand to her stomach and let out a deep throated sigh at how much it hurt. "I'm fine enough," she said to Valee. She looked the girl over with a critical eye and decided she didn’t need immediate attention. Batavia pulled her hand away from her stomach, looking down at the trickling blood. “We’re okay, Tess,” she called to the healer, waving her away, before looking up at her fellow candidate. “What a way to end a hatching, huh?” She stayed close to Valee as they left the Sands, trying not to wince with every step. Batavia thought nothing, not even Threadscores, could hurt more than an abdomen wound. She didn’t realize how much she used her stomach muscles until they were hurt.
“Have one of the apprentices check out your scratches but if you need stitches wait for a journeyman,” she warned quietly as they left the sand and were approached by healers. “Apprentices are fine for washing out a wound but unless you like bumpy, crooked scars, stick to someone who knows what they’re doing.” Batavia remembered what her own stitches had looked like as apprentice and didn’t wish that on any woman. “See you at the Feast?” It was half a question, half a statement as she let herself be led off by a healer.
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Post by Maykat on Jul 11, 2010 19:49:36 GMT -5
"Oh, Faranth," Batavia muttered, seeing the bloody man being deposited in the infirmary. "I'm on it, boss," she replied, executing a skidding turn and jogging back down the corridor. Times like these made her wish for a well trained firelizard. Thankfully S’lain had been by; at least he had some background in people healing. She turned the corner into the regular infirmary, panting slightly and glad the Weyrhealer was right there. Batavia almost ran into her but stopped herself just short.
“We need a regular healer,” she said in a fast, low tone to avoid waking her patients. “One of the wherhandlers brought in a guy. Deep lacerations to the torso and lower body. Unconscious. S’lain’s with them now in our triage area.” Not waiting for the woman, Batavia pivoted and started back to the dragon infirmary.
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Post by Maykat on Jul 10, 2010 21:06:56 GMT -5
Batavia was sure the Puntius brown was heading for her. So sure, she forgot herself. She took a half step towards him, reaching out slightly, right as he panicked. He slammed into her, driving all the air out of her lungs and knocking her to the ground. She lay where she fell, staring up at the sky. The sand burned her skin but she couldn’t move. She was stunned, mentally and physically, unable to comprehend what had just happened. Wheezing and gasping for breath, Batavia rolled onto her hands and knees, then sat back against her heels.
She sat up in time to see the Corydora blue, ugly even to Batavia’s dazed eyes, Impress to youngest candidate. She looked around the Sands, hoping against hope to see another dragonet wandering about but knowing there wasn’t one. That was it. The Hatching was over. Batavia leaned forward, her hands on her knees and her head hanging. It was only when she saw the blood on her robes did she realize she had been scratched. She immediately felt the pain; sharp and raw where the fabric of her robe rubbed and a duller ache from the impact. That’ll need stitches, she thought, feeling detached from the situation. Like she was looking at some dragon that had been clawed and need attention.
Still wheezing, Batavia pushed herself to her feet. She wavered for a moment, getting her balance and looking for the healers. “Are you okay?” she asked Valee, noticing the candidate near her was also bloody.
V’mio winced as the brown scratched up a handful of candidates. He stayed in his seat; there was nothing anyone could do until after the last Impression, and really nothing he could do but stay out of the healers’ way. Felath bugled once the Corydora blue Impressed and the Hatching ended. All in all, V’mio thought as he filed out of the stands, it had been a good day. Despite the hesitance of the brown, he had eventually found his lifemate. He stopped to give a few encouraging words to two candidates, holdbred boys with no family in attendance. All the candidates would have no more duties tonight, and only a short lesson in the morning. He knew how important it was to give them time to process what had happened, and come to terms with the rejection. Luckily this was no one’s last Hatching before aging out. Felath moved to lay near the candidate barracks and keep an eye on things while V’mio went to check on the injured candidates.
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Post by Maykat on Jul 10, 2010 9:52:25 GMT -5
Why wasn't that brown finding his mate? V'mio leaned forward, his forearms against the railing. He nodded when Trith pushed the baby brown away. Even though she hadn't laid this clutch, V'mio admired how protective of them the queen had been. The little brown's wailings were enough to make V'mio want to cover his ears. He laced his fingers instead, pressing his palms together and turning his knuckles white. They could not have a dragonet go between, not at their first Hatching. At least the bronze had found his partner quickly.
Batavia was glad for Lanzalin. She liked the boy and had thought he would be a good bronzerider. But with only two eggs left to Hatch and one uncertain brown, she was starting to feel the usual resigned dread that came over her towards the end of Hatchings. She shook her head at the Puntius brown as it tried to attach to his green sister. If the little brown ever did find a lifemate on the Sands, Batavia knew it would be a deep and overwhelming bond. Every time the brown looked her way she felt a quick twist in her stomach, a small hope that maybe he was finally ready to Impress.
A small, ugly part of her reared its head when Raelwyn was clawed. If the girl was injured enough to move off the Sands, it meant one less competitor for the last three dragonets. Instantly Batavia was ashamed of herself. That was no way to be a decent human being, as her foster mother would have said. Besides, she didn’t know if the girl was hurt bad enough to leave, or would leave even if she was. Batavia had seen critically wounded candidates stay on the Sands, refusing to give up their chance at Impression. As for herself, Batavia knew not even Faranth in the flesh would make her leave before all three remaining dragonets had Impressed.
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Post by Maykat on Jul 10, 2010 7:45:55 GMT -5
“Well in my case there’s been second, third and fourth chances,” she said with a bit of a chuckle. After only a few minutes of work Batavia was dirty; her hands blackened at the fingertips and her tunic splotched with red rot from the volumes. She looked up when a new girl burst into the room, but kept wiping.
"Hey there." Her eyes crinkled above her handkerchief as Batavia smiled at the new arrival. S'ren. She didn't know of any female riders to elide their names back at Southern, maybe this was just something that had started at Silver Cove or here at Cerulean. "I'm Batavia, dragonhealer and candidate. You might want to step outside to catch your breath," she suggested. "Unless you like coughing your lungs out, that is."
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Post by Maykat on Jul 9, 2010 21:07:14 GMT -5
Batavia rolled with sweat, both from nerves and from the heat. She fidgeted, moving from foot to foot, crossing her arms, then hanging them at her sides, then crossing them again. Batavia couldn’t think about the fact that she had a good line of work to fall back on, or that she would be old enough for at least two or three more clutches before aging out. All she could think about was the clutch in front of her. Like the ground would just open up and swallow her whole if she walked away alone again. She wiped her hands on her robe, rubbing her palms against her hips. Trying to calm herself, she stood with her feet apart and hands on her hips, trying to root into the sand. She might be slower off the mark if a confused dragonet came barreling towards her, but Batavia trusted her ability to get out of the way.
She started moving again when the Puntius Brown let out his wail. The noise stoop up the hairs on the back of her neck and made her shudder. She smiled as two boys Impressed, looking just as happy as pie for them. She tried to keep down her jealousy, and nagging doubts, and watch the rest of the clutch. The Puntius Brown was still out there, and she kept an eye on the hatchling. If he took too long to find his mate, he might get agitated and then dangerous. Blood on the Sands would not be a good way for the new Weyr to end its first Hatching.
V'mio clapped for the boys and agreed with his neighbors that the Xiphophorus Brown was a strong looking creature. He kept one eye on the Corydora egg as the rest of the Hatching unfolded. It kept moving and then stopping, as if it needed to rest between attempts. He could feel Felath's amusement in the back of his mind, almost calling him an old auntie but refraining from it. V'mio wiped his eyes and leaned back in his seat. We may be in for a long affair, he thought, noting that several eggs had yet to move.
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Post by Maykat on Jul 9, 2010 19:20:33 GMT -5
Batavia relaxed a little when the first egg hatched. The anticipation was what always got to her. Once the little green Impressed, she realized she was holding her breath and sighed. It would be okay, she told herself. There were still seven eggs left. She clapped politely for the girl, whose name she didn't know. Sweat rolled down her face and between her shoulder blades and Batavia wiggled, trying to soak it up with her robe. She watched the Puntius egg, imagining that she could see a dark hide inside. Maybe a blue, or possibly a bronze.
V'mio clapped for Kailee, glad the girl had Impressed. A bronze first was always lucky, tradition said, but V'mio thought any dragon quickly Impressing was a good sign. He wiped at his eyes, smiling despite his tears. Hatchings always reminded him of Felath's hatching. He would easily say it was the best day of their lives. Felath hummed along with the other dragons, watching the Hatching with interest.
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Post by Maykat on Jul 9, 2010 16:48:52 GMT -5
Luckily for Batavia, she was already in the candidate barracks when the humming started. Unfortunately, this meant she was one of the first to be ready and had a lot of time to stand at the barracks entrance, nervously shifting from one foot to the other. Her hair hung in two braids down her back, tied together at the end with a leather thong. At her first hatching she had stupidly unbraided it, leaving it loose and flowing. It may have looked nice, but it only got in her face and made her even hotter. Batavia was surprised at how nervous she was. This wasn't her first time around, but her stomach fluttered and her hands shook. She had to pee too, but didn't want to risk a lavatory run.
V'mio walked down the line of candidates, making sure everyone was in order. He was keeping himself together, but his eyes were a little watery at the corners. Once they were ready, he led the candidates to the Hatching Sands, then took his place in the Stands. They're a good lot, he said to Felath. He remembered all the times he'd stood on the Sands, waiting for his bronze to hatch. As the eggs started to rock, V'mio felt the same kind of nervous anticipation as his candidates.
You've already found me, Felath said. You don't need to be nervous anymore.
Just as the bronze expected, his reassurance cause V'mio to lose his self control. The bronzerider began to cry, quietly and unashamedly, wiping his tears away with a hankie.
Batavia took her position towards the end of the semi-circle line. She liked having plenty of open space around her, in case she had to move quickly. So far she'd never been injured at a Hatching (except for mild heat stroke at the first one) and she wanted to keep it that way. Only one egg was moving, and Batavia briefly wondered if Trith had called a false alarm. Maybe the eggs needed another few days. She shifted her feet and wiped her face on the shoulder of her robe. The dragons knew, she reminded herself.
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Post by Maykat on Jul 9, 2010 16:28:06 GMT -5
See, I really thought there was something about candidates being barefoot. Maybe in Moreta or the DLG? I don't have my books with me to double check. But if the mods want me to change it, I have no problem with that.
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