Tunnelsnake Fight
Dragonsfall Weyr
Amber Hills Hold
Vintner Hall
Healer Hall
Hidden Meadows
Dolphin Cove Weyr
Dolphin Hall
Emerald Falls Hold
Harper Hall
Printer Hall
Green Valley Hold
Leeward Lagoon Hold
Barrier Lake Weyr
Sunstone Seahold
Citrus Bay Hold
Writers: Avery, Devin, Halyonix, Iluva, Sia
Date Posted: 5th April 2026
Characters: M'sar, K'valas, A'garyn, Hesbia, M'thos, L'val
Description: Mesarian and Kavalas come to blows in the candidate barracks
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 10, day 20 of Turn 12
Mesarian swaggered into the barracks, clothes askew and hair a mess. He flopped into one of the common area chairs with a smile. “Shards, that was so good I didn’t even _mind_ bottoming.”
Kavalas made a noise low in his throat, something between disbelief and disgust. “Do you ever stop broadcasting your escapades like a feral feline?” he asked coolly. His eyes flicked over Mesarian’s rumpled state, lingering pointedly on the half-fastened tunic before he went back to his mending. “Some of us prefer to keep our evenings…cleaner.”
Anger flashed in Mesarian’s eyes. “You always gotta look at me like something you scraped off the bottom of your shoe? This is the _Weyr_!” He was so sick of Kavalas’s judgment, and before he knew it there was a knife in his hand. “I didn’t take that holdbred shit out there and I ain’t gonna take it in here, either.”
Kavalas didn’t so much as twitch at the gleam of the knife. He only arched a brow, setting his needle and thread down with meticulous precision before lifting his gaze.
“And what exactly,” he asked, voice cool, “do you think you’re going to do with that?”
“Gonna carve my name into you,” Mesarian said, and then he lunged.
He didn’t get far.
Aegaryn saw the blade, a glint of steel aimed at Kavalas, but he waited, patient-- until Mesarian’s foot lifted, until intent became action. Then he stepped in, grabbing the back of his rumpled shirt and sliding his arm around the lanky kid’s neck. “Drop it,” he encouraged warmly in Mesarian’s ear, pulling him back with him a few steps. “Do it quick-- before I make you do that, too.”
Mesarian growled, calculating his chances. Not good. It was physically painful to unclench his fingers and let the knife drop. Then with his other arm he drove his elbow toward Aegaryn’s side.
The elbow slammed into his ribs. Aegaryn grunted, breath stalling and sharp, but he barely moved. “Not bad." He said, arm cinching too tightly to just be a warning now. “Now, _enough_.”
Mesarian couldn’t glare at Aegaryn so he glared at Kavalas instead. “You need to stop . . .” he gasped through a constricted throat. “Giving me shit . . . for screwing men.”
“I don’t give a _fuck_ about you screwing men,” growled Kavalas as he kicked away the dagger, which skittered under the couch. “It’s you being a messy slut that annoys the shit out of me.” He punctuated his dislike with a fist to Mesarian’s gut.
Black spots filled Mesarian’s vision. He couldn’t breathe, but he still kicked out. He wanted to hurt Kavalas, or Aegaryn. Both. Either. It didn’t matter.
His foot connected with Kavalas’s side and he lashed out again. Struggling harder, he shifted his weight abruptly and managed to slip out of Aegaryn’s grip. Wheezing, dizzy, and barely able to see, Mesarian swung hard and punched Kavalas in the face.
Aegaryn lurched after him before he'd decided to move. Mesarian was slight, quick-- he'd seen that already-- but he'd seen the punch land and something in him went quiet, ice cold. “You stupid little _shit_.” He snarled, arms already snapping around the other boy's waist. He drove his hips in hard, wrenched, and hauled them both down to the floor, and the knee he put in Mesarian's back had everything behind it.
Mesarian struggled, the breath knocked out of him again. He tried to growl and it sounded more like a gasp. “ . . . Off!” was the only word he could manage.
The kick was a solid hit, against the solid flesh of his side. It'd bruise, but it didn't hit nearly as hard as the crack to his face. Kavalas staggered half a step when the punch landed, the crack of it snapping his head to the side. For a moment the room tilted and bright, sharp pain blossomed across his jaw. Copper flashed sharp across his tongue where his teeth caught the inside of his cheek. Slowly, deliberately, he brought a hand up and pressed his thumb to the corner of his mouth. When he pulled it away, he came back red.
For a heartbeat he didn't move, watching Aegaryn drive the other boy to the floor like someone observing a particularly irritating animal.
"Ease up, Aeg." Kavalas said. "Might not want to pick a fight you're outnumbered in."
“You have got to be shitting me,” Hesbia muttered when she saw the three boys at it. They were going to get the Holdless kicked out if they were caught! “Seriously?!” she snapped as she approached, a tray of food still in her hand but not for long.
Trapped and still gasping for air, Mesarian thrashed until he could get his arm behind him and grab Aegaryn’s leg. Then he dug in as hard as he could.
Glancing from Kavalas to Hesbia, Aegaryn had been about to shove himself off the kid when Mesarian went for his leg. Pain lanced the length of his calf, a sudden searing pressure, and he sucked a sharp inhale through his teeth in lieu of an enraged growl. He attempted to jerk up and out of Mesarian’s grip, grabbing the offending arm at the wrist to give it a good twist in the same motion -- but their momentum stalled, his leg buckled, immediately losing his balance.
Hesbia slammed the tray on the table. “Hey, you dimglows, we’re not in the caves anymore so cut this whershit out before you get us all kicked out!” she yelled.
Mesarian felt the shift in weight and moved immediately, rolling out from under Aegaryn. He took the man’s leg with him, trying to gain an advantage. But there were spots dancing in his vision, and when he attempted to get on top of Aegaryn he only managed to make it onto his side. He couldn’t keep his grip, but as soon as he lost control of Aegaryn’s leg he grabbed for his arm.
_Of course_ Mesarian would keep this ridiculousness going. Aegaryn swayed with the sudden weight on his arm, panting, and stopped fighting it -- let gravity do its job, elbow first into the skinny little shit's ribs. His free hand caught the edge of the tray on the way up, curling into a fist. Both came crashing down.
“That was my dinner, you dimglows!” Hesbia shrieked angrily. She kicked the tray to vent some of her anger, then growled loudly and stormed off, muttering, “Stupid, useless, addle-brained _men_.” She was not getting caught in this scuffle and getting kicked out of the Weyr!
---
"I'm glad you could spare time to meet with me." M'thos said as he greeted L’val outside the candidate barracks. He could have gone up to Cyan-- Alpine. Alpine Wingleader's office, but he figured the man would like the opportunity to visit with his daughter afterwards. "I have a sorta-special project I'd like to volunteer one or two of your riders for, if you're able to approve them."
L’val nodded in polite greeting when he arrived. His hands were clasped around a cool mug of juice and he looked like a man half-distracted, but not one bothered by making the trip. “Happy to come in and listen. I like hearing about what is going on down here with the Weyrlingstaff.”
“Well, it’s been a busy time to be honest, and--” M’thos pushed the doors open into the candidate commons and took in the sight before him. “...and it just keeps getting busier. L’val. I need to get back to you. Boys! Hesbia! Break it up this instant!” Wingleaders and special projects would have to wait. M’thos sighed and waded into the fight.
Last updated on the May 1st 2026