Hold your breath, here comes the cold water [CHEK]

[lee]

Lessons, again.

At barely nineteen, T’yer was only now beginning to look like an adult instead of an awkwardly stretched out conglomeration of spindly adolescent limbs. But at Dalibor, he found himself continually feeling like a little again, perpetually plonked into more and more lessons that compounded the sense of overwhelming ignorance. A prouder man might have chafed, but T’yer hadn’t any to speak of, which not so coincidentally was why he was here, preparing to ask for help.

Even if it meant more lessons.

He stared at the map that had been roughly sketched out for him on a scant scrap of hide, turning it around in his hands and trying to ignore the prickly feeling he had it upside down. He felt Lenticuth stir in his mind, not quite waking but starting to, and the boy shook his head, trying to clear the uneasiness so it wouldn’t spill to the sleeping not-quite-a-hatchling. The viridian was no longer so young that he spent all of his time sleeping, but T’yer had quickly learned that the viridian was an independent sort, and neither required nor desired that his bonded be in attendance all candlemarks of the day. Staring at the door, quietly perplexed, T’yer absently rubbed the back of his neck before sighing, pocketing the map, and knocking once, firmly. "Er—Wingrider Valha? It’s Ta—T’yer," Because he was prone to babbling, he did so, complete disregarding the fact the door was closed. "Weyrlingmaster F’reki said, well he mentioned you might be able to help me, and, and so…well, yes, if you’re here? If now’s a good time? If it’s not—or if you’re not—I…well, I can come back. You know. Or not?"

Oh, that was very smooth. The cool, amused voice entered his mind without any hint of sleepiness, and T’yer was torn between smiling and frowning, and the result was a slightly strained, strange grimace somewhere in the middle.

Hush. Helplessly, T’yer raised the bundle wrapped in a coarse cloth, offering it to the closed door. He hadn’t been able to learn much about Valha—hadn’t been able to ask, really, without feeling terribly like a snoop, and he hadn’t wanted that, just didn’t want to come empty-handed to ask a favor—but he was friendly with several of the men and women who worked in the kitchens, and something they had mentioned had stuck. "I brought cheese?"

[/blockquote]

[Chek]

T’yer was actually lucky to catch Valha in her weyr that day – she was prone to…wandering off, outside of Threadfall and drills, that was – she was not one to shirk her duty – but it was not Valha who noticed someone come to the door first, oh no. Meili, snuffling about near the door while His poured over tide charts on the ledge with their big tan beloved, was first to notice the tantalizing smell wafting under the door.

Rather than, say, squeak for attention, or pop to the other side of the door like a normal flit – not that he actually could – Meili wedged his head sideways through the gap under the door and looked at the thing outside.

<3~! He peeped almost silently, squirming and trying to wedge more of himself out to go greet the personthing. Alas, he was too large. So he tried to back up to get a run at it, use a little more force to shove through…and his headknobs came up against the bottom of the door and stopped.

He panted for a moment, processing this latest development, then shoved forwards again, then flailing backwards with more force.

Nope.

Just as T’yer knocked on the door, right in the middle of the weyrling’s short speech, Meili realized he was good and stuck and started creeling, D: D: D;

Valha, assaulted by Meili’s distress and trying to listen to the person on the other side of the door at the same time, strode across her weyr, discarding her charts into Mith’s keeping, and slapped a hand atop Meili’s squirming body, “Cut that out before your pop your fool head off, you twit. Shhh,” and then louder, mean to be heard, “Give me a moment, T’yer, I’ll be out...shortly. I can’t open the door without hurting my flitter.”

Hati, though, having heard the word “cheese” had followed Valha across the room and, after snorting disdainfully at him, jammed her much smaller body under the door and emerged unharmed on the other side with a “pop”, then peeped at her Stupidblue – that was how you door squished.

Meili, encouraged, wriggled with more desperation, ignoring Valha’s fingers (visible on T’yer’s side of the door as she fought to wedge Meili back under the door) and did get his shoulders and front legs under the door before coming to a stop. He flopped down, panting, and commented breathlessly, :C

“Oh for the love of tiny shells, ONE OF YOU GET ME SOME BUTTER OR OIL!” Could be heard by T’yer and Hati on the far side of the door, and, sure enough, a few seconds later soft butter was oozing around Meili. Hati licked it off where it dribbled down to his face, but shook her head and fluttered up to land on T’yer’s bundle, pawing through it until she reached GLORIOUS CHEESE.

Yes good, they could keep this one. He brought cheese. Hati settled in proprietarily atop the cheese.

A rising crescendo of conversing flitter voices could be heard as Meili started wiggling back and forth – a more accurate statement would be that he started being wiggled back and forth. A few seconds later, a purple popped into the air in front of T’yer and landed, beginning to attempt to cram Meili back under the door as well. A cyan flitter joined him a minute later, but their efforts were in vain.

Eventually, all efforts stopped, and Valha could be heard cursing and stomping away. Jormundgand and Eostre contented themselves licking butter off their squished Stupidblue while they waited for their next orders.

She stomped back a moment later, “Idunn!” she barked, faint through the door, then louder, “Jormundgand!” The purple disappeared, and Valha’s cursing increased and the door began creaking. “Yes, the…good girl, good boy.”

The door rose, and tilted, and Valha lifted the door away, lifting it up and propping one side against her head and shoulder, a five foot one blonde holding a door in the air bigger than she was, “Yes, hello T’yer, I was told you might come by. Please, come in.” She stepped aside to give him space to walk in, Eostre and another blue, Garm, snatching Meili and dragging him in so he wouldn’t be stepped on, “Have a seat while I put my door back up?”

[lee]

Twit?

T'yer blinked, alarmed that he had already managed to offend the occupant of the weyr so entirely that she was going to take his head off—it usually took a few more moments—and opened his mouth to stammer a bewildered apology when he heard the pitiful creels of the little blue. Ah. That made a bit more sense. Alarmed nevertheless—how on Pern had the poor fellow gotten himself stuck there?—T'yer kneeled, fingers splaying and fluttering in the space around the blue head but not touching it, clucking his tongue in dismay. "Poor fellow, gotten yourself into a pickle, haven't you?" Belatedly, T'yer thought to respond to Valha, "Er, yes, of course. Is he...well," He wanted to ask how but that seemed a bit impolite so he settled instead for, "Shall I...try and lift it a bit?" His eyes raised to the top of the door as he tried to judge whether or not his fingers could fit underneath, and whether there was any give towards the ceiling. It seemed unlikely, but what else was there to do?

He fumbled in his belt pouch, sure he had some oil handy—Lenticuth was still growing like a weed and while the little pot in his pouch hardly covered more than a handspace on the viridian, it was still better than nothing—but was distracted from his search by the appearance of another head, though this one, at least, was followed promptly by a body. "Ah—yes, hello. You're lovely, aren't you?" He murmured to the green, and then jumped at Valha's barked command, and fumbled again for the oil, finding it just in time for butter to appear, and, seeing Hati slurp it up, thought better of adding to the mess, instead opting to stare, utterly unhelpfully, at the poor predicamented blue.

The green, who had clearly decided his bundle was more interesting than whatever was going on inside the door, settled herself proprietarily on the cheese, and T'yer bit back a smile, so distracted by her that the sudden disappearance of the door had him jumping in surprise.

He found the door, of course, in short order, and when he saw the source holding it aloft, he gaped, vaguely remembered that was impolite, and shut his mouth. He had a full foot or two on the petite blonde, and he was fairly certain that door wasn't exactly made of floatwood. "Golly You sure MUST be able to--" He'd been about to say 'control your body like WM F'reki said', but that suddenly seemed terribly inappropriate (or at least rudely outspoken) when not-quite standing in an unfamiliar lady's dorm, even for a Healer, who viewed bodies as little more than compiled sacks of limbs and easily broken things, so he amended, "Ah, what I mean to say is--hm. Well. I should...you...hmm" HE blinked, as though suddenly realizing that she had bid him come in, and it occurred to him with sudden chagrin that the longer he stood there, the longer she had to hold the door. So he stepped forward.

And smacked his head quite solidly on the doorframe.

He recovered quite quickly, recoiling with a dazed blink and turning on his foot with the force of it, ducking and stepping into her weyr backwards not necessarily with the air of someone pretending they had totally meant to do that, and more with the air of someone who just did these things so often they sort of didn't notice when they happened. In doing so, he managed to contort himself enough to keep cheese--and fire lizard--suitably balanced. He stood in her weyr cheese in hand, and (as he was wont to do) babbled a bit. "You--ah, seem to have that, but, can I help? I can..hold it? Or screws. Hinges?" He pantomined this automatically, which essentially resulted in him offering her the bundle of cheese, which he quickly realized she would be unable to take, since she was, as noted, holding a door.

He blinked.

"Right. Sorry I'm not...usually so..." what was the word? ...much of an idiot?

[/i][/color] Shove it, greennose. "...all over the place?" He finished, looking for all the world like an overlarge drooping puppy. "Sleep deprivation." He mumbled: the best explanation he could offer.[/size][/blockquote]