To 'complete' this Event, please respond to at least one toucher from each touching group: the Leaders, the Led, the Believers, and the True; and complete the Alternate Response prompt.
The Magician:
18 / f
The Magician stepped into the tents with a deep breath and a centered mind, ready to impress. She has been looking forward to this day for a while, and her thoughts were on this moment, and the Hatching beyond, the instant she felt the quake. She believes that if she wants something badly enough, it will happen. The Magician wants with such desperate, naive, Believers desire, pray she never learns to apply her powerful mind to learning how to cheat her way to success.
The High Priestess:
21 / f
Everyone comes to the High Priestess for advice, and her advice is always the same, dressed up in new words for new people. ‘Relax, take a deep breath, trust your intuition.’ The High Priestess is a serene young woman who floats through the world as if nothing can touch her... and perhaps it can’t, because her affectation of peacefulness hides a heart that could pump flamespit and bile rather than blood, a heart that yearns to give the world a piece of its completely shuttered mind.
The Empress:
23 / f
Already an assistant Candidatemaster, shepherding a flock of young, bright minds through the threshold, the Empress has happiness and hope in her heart. She thinks of the promise of the young, the hope she has of one day seeing her own children grow up, of the incredible resilience of the battered, scratched-up eggs. With a careful word, she warns one of her charges away from a undesirable action, and they look at her with trust. How she wishes she could look to someone else like that.
The Emperor:
15 / m
The Emperor is a young boy, and this is only his second hatching. Still he walks on the sands like a king, like a god. His father told him he would be chosen. His father said he was going to be the mightiest. Fathers couldn’t lie. The Emperor believes in the authority of metallics and clings to the structures of his life, lessons, the responsibilities given to him as one of the “mature ones.” Time will tell if he gets a taste for sneering lordship.
The Hierophant:
23 / nb
All they can think of is the starched, flat-pressed white robe in their dormitory trunk. How long its roots stretch back -- to the first hatching ever, perhaps? How they will look like no one and everyone when the sea of white stands at the Hatching. The Hierophant wonders with a mind far beyond their years what that means for the candidates’ personhood, that conformity, whether it is freedom or suppression. ...They decide they will pin a blossom over their heart on that hungry white cotton, when Hatching day comes.