The Dumpster Fire Group

Writers: Avery, Heather, Iluva, Sia, Steel, Suzee
Date Posted: 20th February 2026

Characters: J'lor, Z'vallan, T'ian, L'tos, Zaidi, I'thralos
Description: The disastrous "group two" Weyrlings have their first flights. It goes even worse than expected.
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 12, day 22 of Turn 12
Notes: Mentioned R'lor

J'lor

Z'vallan

Zaidi

J’lor looked at the students gathered round with their lifemates. “Today is important for both you and your lifemate,” he started. Smiling, he added. “Today you get to fly together for the first time.”

Z’vallan felt incredibly confident that he was absolutely prepared for his first flight. He had read every scrap of hide or book he could find about first flights and techniques. He’d even spent time sitting in the Weyrbowl watching others fly and taking notes.

**I’ve got everything calculated to perfection,** he assured Akariath.

}:Of course you do. We’re the _best_,:{ the blue preened proudly.

Thazareth sat calmly, tail curled around his legs, watching the Weyrlingmasters’ dragons with one eye and his clutchmates with another. He was a dragon, born to fly. There were no nerves in him, only the desire to do well.

}:We can do this, we can do this!!!:{ Hallisenth exulted as she pranced forward, her eyes swirled with excitement and her wings already half-spread.

L’tos followed her, more uncertain. “Halli, _behave_.” He hissed.

}:I _am_ behaving! Now everyone gets to see how wonderful we are!:{ the green insisted.

“She’s excited, huh? I’m excited too,” T’ian said to L’tos.

I'thralos' stomach roiled. He wasn't scared of flying, he'd done it plenty of times with his family as a child and later, with his Impressed friends, but any class that involved Vorlogoth made him dig his heels in. The bronze expected perfection out of them both, and this was no different.

For all the confidence he’d felt earlier, Z’vallan suddenly felt his heart in his throat as he was called first to fly. To calm himself, he began reciting the many pages of notes he’d written about first flights.

}:We can do this,:{ Akariath assured him, blue tail swishing as he waited for Z’vallan to climb into his seat.

The bluerider’s hands felt moist and trembly as he pulled himself onto his lifemate’s neckridge and fumbled with the straps to get himself buckled into place. Even though they had practiced this several times, his fingers felt fumbly and he struggled with the buckles.

The seconds ticked by. Was he taking too long to get started? He glanced up at the other Weyrlings but no one seemed to notice.

}:Let’s go!:{ Akariath insisted.

**Okay, I think I’m ready, I-” but then Akariath lunged, launching off the ground with a hard snap that sent Z’vallan hard against his riding straps. **Take it easy,** he groaned.

}:We’re FLYING,:{ the blue trumpeted proudly.

Z’vallan glanced down at the ground.

Big. Mistake.

The moment he did a wave of nausea washed over him.

**Oh, Faranth, not now,** he thought, even as he felt the telltale feeling in the back of his throat. **Hold it down. Hold it down.** But then Akariath hit a thermal and sent them wobbling back and forth and that was all it took for Z’vallan to explode. The vomit coursed down his right pant leg and all down Akariath’s flank.

}:Did you… did you just _throw up on me_?!:{ Akariath’s eyes now whirled with alarm and concern.

Embarrassment washed over Z’vallan as the blue hurried to land, and in doing so, smashed Z’vallan forward against his neck.

}:Are you okay?:{ The blue’s head snaked around to look at his rider.

Z’vallan just groaned, unbuckled his straps and slid sideways until he was back on solid ground.

"Concentrate on your lifemate when you're in the air for now," J'lor stifled a smile. "That will help," he nodded at the next in line.

I'thralos' stomach roiled in sympathy. He'd never been very good at managing his own stomach when Ithianne was sick, but the practice at least kept his breakfast down.

}: We won't do that.:{ Vorlogoth added, smug.

Zaidi had to look away, lest she vomit as well, and hoped her classmate was no worse for wear.

“Z’vallan, you okay?” T’ian called worriedly.

Inwardly, he thought, **please don’t be me, please don’t be me.** After all, he’d only ridden a dragon twice before! And both times he’d been sitting like a sack of tubers on the back, pressed up against the rider who was in control. Now, it was going to be him and Thazareth doing this themselves, nobody else to control the flight and keep it smooth. And meanwhile, he was going to be on a smaller dragon, too…because Thazareth wasn’t full grown… would being on a smaller dragon be choppier?

}:I will fly smooth,:{ Thazareth told him, deep assurance and steadiness in his mental tone.

And that gave T’ian calm and hope to temper his excitement, until it was their turn. He mounted, carefully settling himself into place and tugging his straps to ensure they were well tight and showing it to the weyrlingstaff before getting the clearance to be going.

Thazareth began his run, several strides to get a bit of speed before bunching his hind legs to leap upwards. He got into the air with enough space to do a powerful sweep of his wings to gain more altitude, without scraping the tips along the ground as a previous classmate had done. His wingbeats got them up to the required altitude, and he hovered, waiting for the weyrlingmaster to approve of it.

T'ian's hands were on the straps as he felt the one - two - three - four strides before takeoff. It was more forceful than he expected and he swayed backwards and clung to the straps, thinking they shouldn't be arrowing up that fast, but he also whooped with the acceleration of it, the joy of speed.

Then Thazareth had brought them safely to a hover. T'ian had thought that staying stable would be better than the ascent or descent, but errant gust of wind against his face suddenly made him aware that Thazareth's seat was not as unmoving as it had been on the ground. Up and down the brown bobbed slightly as he beat his wing, and that made T'ian feel like he was swaying side to side even though he wasn't... like in a hammock back at the cothold. He turned his head to look for a vantage point that wasn't moving, but turning his head made him feel a strike of deeper dizziness, a light-headed feeling that he was very, very unwell.

**Down, before I vomit like Z’vallan!** he thought anxiously at Thazareth, not sure if they'd actually gotten the glide back down signal from Weyrlingmaster J'lor yet. He closed his eyes and clung to the straps, trusting his dragon to get them down.

Thazareth's glide down was smooth and slower than his rider would have liked, as T'ian wanted dwn now. But the brown thought that dropping fast would only make his rider more ill, and he had the presence of mind to try to keep it smooth. He landed with a bit of a forceful thump.

}:My rider feels unwell,:{ he reported to the older dragons.

**I need a moment before I can get down,** T'ian thought plaintively. When he finally slid down, he rested his head against Thazareth's solid hide before turning to look at the staff.

"I'm sorry, I got dizzy. But he flew all right, right?"

J'lor nodded and smiled. These first flights were always just a little... eventful.

}:Me next, us next!!:{ Hallisenth declared eagerly, as soon as her classmate was done. She bounced in place, wriggling. Her tail thrashed, and her wings half spread even before L'tos was fully seated, much less completely strapped in.

One beat, a single bounce more, and then Hallisenth _sprinted_ for the takeoff, wings flapping with all her might.

**Halli, no!** L'tos objected too late. They were airborne, and all L'tos could do was hang on as the wind raced past.

}:WE'RE FLYING!!!:{ Hallisenth exulted.

And then she didn't so much touch down as collide with the ground, her wings angling too late to do much.

She hissed in pain as her wings wrenched and her rider's face collided with her neck at the same time. }:MINE!!:{

L'tos groaned, fumbled with his straps and slid off Hallisenth as fast as he could, holding his face with one hand. “Ow….”

“L’tos, are you okay?” T’ian asked as soon as his friend was nearby. “That looks awful.”

Bharboth trumpeted her intention to go next, with Zaidi's wide-eyed look of concern for L'tos shifting to utter horror. “But-!”

Bharboth wasn't debating this. She stood, lashing her heavy tail in anticipation and the little weyrling nevertheless scaled her mottled bulk, obediently clambering into place like she'd been practicing. It was then that Zaidi had a rather alarming realization: She didn't want to do this. Nope. Not this.

}:We know what we're doing.:{ Bharboth craned her neck around to regard her, certainty bordering on forceful there, and Zaidi tried to steel her spine and believe that. She drew a long deep breath, pleased she remembered to clip herself in, but she still glanced at J’lor a little beseechingly one last time, like he or someone else might point out her unreadiness at this final juncture.

But no one did, and a quick check of the straps was all Bharboth had patience for. The excitement walloping her through their link nearly took Zaidi’s breath away as she shut her eyes and Bharboth broke into a gallop like a wildfeline locked onto a rodent, leaping into the air with all the steady bravado and shine of a veteran. The result was slightly different than the young green imagined - a scrambling, slightly sagging ascent that would be over far too fast for her liking.

Amazement suddenly broke through Zaidi’s anxiety. They… they were really flying! Together! Tears of relief flooded her eyes at what this meant for them.

}:See? I told you!:{

Then she chanced a hopeful look down, and a gasp that was also a cry flew up into her throat. Too. HIGH. Probably not any higher than anyone else had been, but her stomach clenched and fell away at the sea-like way the world was twisting, and good Faranth they were _high_.

}:Uh, what's wrong?:{ Bharboth’s sails flared in exultant triumph towards the ground and her question came with the subtle lightness of afterthought.

Zaidi just choked on a sob. Paralyzed by the grip of fear. Bracing for a rough impact, a lurch, a thud, a horrible, heart-wrenching screech, and she was full on bawling as they touched down.

But there were none. No thuds. No wrenching. Bharboth's landing was smoother than either of them were (truthfully) expecting, barely any stumbling at all, and Zaidi's wail petered out into a soft, increasingly perplexed whine. }:There. See? See?:{ But it just left Zaidi feeling disoriented and foolish as she folded over her dragon's neck, still bawling, clinging to the warmth and certainty there. She would just stay like this forever.

}:You’re fine.:{ Bharboth said with a happy chirp.

Vorlogoth went last, tension coiled through his pale-bronze frame. The rest of his group hadn't had much success, and he was confident that he would be able to show them how it's done.

That confidence did not transfer over to I'thralos. He connected the straps to his riding harness with steady hands that didn't match the anxious and angry churn in his stomach. The moment J'lor gave the signal, Vorlogoth surged forward-- three powerful running strides and a leap that was too eager and too early. His wings snapped open unevenly, beating hard just to keep them aloft, each stroke a staggering lurch into the air.

They managed only a brief, ragged glide before gravity won. Vorlogoth was moving too fast and his descent was uncontrolled. I'thralos felt the slow tide of panic pulsing through their bond in the seconds before the bronze hit the ground _hard_. He felt the pain of the impact spiking up through Vorlogoth's feet as the momentum carried them forward and then down.

I'thralos didn't form any words, just the thought of controlling the fall instead of Vorlogoth tipping head-over-tail and crunching his wings and his rider. On instinct, Vorlogoth listened and managed to pitch himself sideways, his full weight instead slamming down onto his left wing and dragging his rider down with a scream that was both rider and dragon.

Z’vallan, with dried vomit on his pant leg, winced and visibly cringed at the _sound_ that was made when I’thralos and Vorlogoth impacted with the ground.

“I’thralos!” T’ian exclaimed in shock at the scream.

Zaidi's damp fingers flew up to cover her mouth in horror.

Pain exploded through I'thralos-- his leg and shoulder from being pinned between the wrenched wing and Vorlogoth's side, his head and neck from the whiplash. I'thralos tried to unhook his straps but wasn't as fast as Vorlogoth trying to right himself, the sudden movement of being hoisted back upright made the pain nearly blinding.

"Get down!" I'thralos screamed at the bronze neck and Vorlogoth quickly dropped, jostling him again and causing another jolt of white-hot pain down his leg and shoulder. I'thralos cursed as he struggled with the straps with his other hand, clumsily unbuckling them. He kicked his good leg over and nearly threw himself down to the ground, wanting to get it over with instead of lingering in the agony until J'lor or Sh'del could coach him down.

Vorlogoth's wing hung awkwardly at an odd angle, though I'thralos could hardly tell what sensation came from the bronze and which was his own. A pained keen began in his chest, though I'thralos only cursed and weakly pushed the bronze head away.

"Everyone _stop_" J'lor shouted. "Calling the healers." He nodded his chin at one of the helpers as he reached I'thralos. "Back," he told the young bronze and helped I'thralos push the anxious head away.

**One of them messes up and they all compete to see who can sharding do it better.** He didn't let that show on his face but he knew he was going to have to talk to R'lor about this.

Last updated on the March 19th 2026

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