Rain, rain and more rain! It's enough to make a person go stir crazy with some good 'ol cabin fever! Va'os is certainly feeling it magnified, as he's limited to how far he can go. This particular afternoon, before the main rush of dinner, sees him making a very uncomfortable trek from the Infirmary to the Nighthearth. 'It's for a change of damn scenery' is how he phrased it (more colourfully) to the Healers on duty! Promises of 'taking it easy' and 'not pushing himself' are grudgingly muttered and then the Weyrleader makes his "escape". He makes it too! Just… ignore the paleness of his skin, the grim set of his jaw and the fact that he's sweating a bit. "Faranth's ass this is the worst," he can be heard mumbling under his breath, while leaning against the back of one of the chairs for support. Speaking of that chair? He eyes it, then the others and promptly swears again. "… shit, didn't think of that." Go on, folks! Make the jokes. Sitting is not exactly… easy for him right now!

Kitchen duty. Again. It's not one of Ulrika's favorites by a long shot, but at least they've opted to put her out in the nighthearth to help move some furniture around and help clean those places that the shorter Candidates can't quite get to. So, of course, when a pale, sweating, not-too-good-looking Weyrleader comes shambling in, she notices. It's what she does. Once a guard, always a guard, and all that. There is a salute offered, but it's quickly followed up with, "Sir? Is there anything I can do to assist?" Her tone is mellow and calm enough, but her expression is a serious one, neutrality carved in stone. The long-handled brush she was using to knock spinnerwebs out of the corners with is propped against her shoulder for the time being.

Like Ulrika, Novi's drawn kitchen duty. Likely a result of her disregard for the weather, and swimming. She's busy dusting when Ulrika speaks, so Novi turns and snaps off a salute. She has her rucksack stashed in an out of the way spot, the question that runs through her head is whether or not she has anything that could be of use. Sadly, Novi has to admit that she doesn't and now to wait for Va'os' answer to Ulrika's question.

Va'os starts a little when Ulrika speaks up and he blinks at her. "Oh damn, didn't see you there! But why am I surprised? You Candidates are just about everywhere right now," he remarks, straightening and trying (too late) to look collected and casual. What? Him, uncomfortable? Nah! He leans a little more relaxes against the chair, as if holding that posture was intended. "Heh," he begins to chuckle, then snickers a bit. "Assist me, huh?" Yeah, he just stressed the first three letters there like an immature child. Sobering, he'll lazily salute in return to Novi. "No, no… I'm alright!" Honest! See that smile? Perfectly fine.

"Aye, Sir, though we'll be out of your hair soon enough," Ulrika replies with a stiff nod. There's a sidelong glance to the Dolphineer-Candidate and she offers a greeting nod. She's about to say something, too, when Va'os speaks again, his snickering doing just enough to add steel to the former guard's spine and set her to straightening further. She doesn't immediately respond to his oddly emphasized word, though. It's not until he tries to reassure Novi that he's well that she adds, "Aye, well. Sounds like you've an ass cyst, Sir. I could send for Healers, if you'd like. Or I could carry you back." Nope, not a smile to be found in that deadpan delivery, though there's an incremental lifting of her eyebrow. "How does he seem to you, Novi? Right as rain in Southern?"

Uh-huh. See the face? Novi's not convinced. She already knows that there's nothing in her rucksack. Only so much that can be stuffed in it after all. Maybe a cushion of some kind? Why go get a healer when something simple could provide a little comfort? Novi's listening to Ulrika, and manages to keep from laughing or even snickering at what the Guard-Candidate has to say. Instead she gives a nod, and turns back to her dusting, "Sometimes a cushion is comfortable," she's not saying that the Weyrleader looks uncomfortable, merely suggesting that if he is feeling discomfort there is a possible solution.

"What is with so many of you being so serious!" Va'os sighs, almost exasperated but more bemused when Ulrika reacts as she does. Ooh, someone's got buttons! And he enjoys pressing buttons. Her return quip is met with more a grin this time and the game is on. "But you've got some snark to you too. I like that!" He scoffs at her suggestion, eyeing Novi as well. "Carry me? I'd like to see you try!" Being the tallest in the room right now, he's feeling preeettty confident that even if he was well enough to be serious about the challenge, neither of them could budge him if he really didn't want to go. "Mhm, cushions are comfortable," he agrees, while nodding a bit. "but not when your backside is burned raw in varying degrees. Kind of makes it hard to sit down… which is why I'm going to stand. And not move." There's his solution!

There's a wry quirk at the corner of Ulrika's mouth. She still manages to reply, straight-faced: "It comes with being a guard, Sir. They tend to beat the humor out of you before you earn it back. I'm still working on it." The brush is bounces against her shoulder once, a motion that might well be thoughtful. "Sir, I've carried larger men than you at Ista. It wouldn't be comfortable for your 'tender state of affairs'," there are no air quotes there, but there might as well be, "but, aye, it's plenty doable." She might not look like much in her boring, full coverage, 'I'm a working Candidate, Sir' clothes, but she's not just a tall blonde here. She has some meat on her. "Well, I'm not sure as ice would be any help, but we could get a cold pack so you could try sitting." She glances to Novi, as if fishing for more suggestions from the former Dolphineer.

Novi tilt's her head to one side as she turns back to regard Va'os, "Aye," her Istan accent slips through, "It's possible some ice could help," her tone of voice is speculative, but watch those green eyes of hers. They're dancing with mischief, the shorty isn't nearly as devoid of humor as she appears to be, "Mind, I've heard tender bits get extra cold extra fast, then we'd have to hear him grumble about his pivates being frostbit," teasing? More like half jest in full ernestness.

Va'os smirks right back, "Guard, huh? Should've known. Explains a bit of that," He gestures vaguely with his free hand to indicate her previous mannerisms. Her confidence has him laughing, low and slightly tinged by dubiousness. "Uh huh, that's so? Guess I'll take your word for it." he muses, only to hold up a single finger. Nope, he's not done yet! "Even IF you could, there's a teeny tiny problem of rank. If I say no, you're just gonna have to deal with it…" Novi is levelled with a look next. "Oh please," he remarks dryly. "I'm High Reachian born and bred, girl. A little ice isn't gonna make me cry. Good shot, though! They've been using numbweed, in case you were curious." Now that he's on a roll, he'll shift as he leans to fold his arms over the back of the chair and push his weight forwards; he's still standing, but it's taking some of the pressure off his back. "Oh and another thing? You can drop the 'sir' now. Va'os is perfectly fine…" His hand lifts to roll a bit in an 'your turn' gesture as he fishes for their names.

Novi chuckles softly as Va'os speaks. She's Istan born, but she'll keep that to herself as she gives her name, "Novi," she still has dusting to do, but she'll push a table so that it's in easy reach for Va'os, "I could get you some klah?" she's trying to be helpful, even if all she can do is try to stay out of the way. If not for her hammock, she'd probably be sleeping on the floor.

"Aye, Sir, but if it were a medical emergency, I would risk my knot to get you to the Healers against your will," Ulrika responds, though there is a slight pull at one corner of her mouth. While there's a glance to Novi for that hot- er, okay, ice talk, she flicks a look back to Va'os at his reply. "As you like, Va'os," yet, even there, with permission given? There's still a funny bit of a gap there, as if she has trouble skipping out of 'Sir' gear and into informality. It can't be helped. "I'm Ulrika," is granted by way of introduction. Novi might keep her Istan heritage to herself, Ulrika's origins are plain in her accent. Istan Weyrbred, through and through. While Novi's offering klah, she might as well pitch in with, "Aye, and food, if you like. They're due to bring out some fresh chili and meatrolls soon enough."

Va'os laughs again, "You're one for heroics, then!" he exclaims for Ulrika comment, giving her a searching look that ends with him shrugging his shoulders. "Guess it's a good thing we're not at a medical emergency then, eh? Just me being stubborn and the two of you being good little Candidates!" Pleased as pleased can be when they give their names, he grins. "Well met, you two." If he's picked up on Ulrika's accent (and Novi's earlier slip), he doesn't shed light on it. There's no time for him to answer their offers; his stomach rumbles loud enough to be faintly heard in a lull of silence. Hardly sheepish about it, he just looks wryly amused. "I think that just spoke for me but I could go for some food. Not a huge serving… just a bit. Skip the klah and make it something alcoholic instead." Figures.

There's a slight chuckle as Novi looks perfectly innocent as she replies, "I'm not sure it's allowed," not that Va'os isn't allowed, just that she may not be given the requested beverage, "I mean, candidate, and still an apprentice if I weren't," she grins though as she heads in search of something stronger than klah for the Weyrleader. She'll succeed, or she won't it will all depend on who is in the kitchen when she gets there.

While he might have asked for his title to be dropped, Ulrika's not one to stand on informality where rank is concerned. There's a quick salute and a curt nod, and then she's briefly off, ducking into the kitchens to hunt down - well, someone. Her quest is a much shorter one than Novi's, at least! Poor Novi. When she returns, another Candidate is carrying the spinnerweb-cleaning-stick and picking up where she left off, while she bears the oh-so-delightful burden of a bowl of chili that could pass as lava at this point and a small plate of still-steaming meatrolls. Nothing outrageous, quantity-wise, if one overlooks the fact that there are definitely a few spare meatrolls on that plate. This is all set down on the table nearest to Va'os. And, of course, she has to take a brief glance at the spot that's troubling the man so much right now. For science, probably. Or just idle curiosity. Who knows. "How long until you're able to sit again?"

It's a good think Va'os is distracted by the food and doesn't catch Ulrika studying him… for science or curiosity sake! He'd never let her live it down! As Novi leaves, she'll no doubt have to explain herself but all it takes is confirmation that the Weyrleader really is at the night hearth and someone's bound to allow her to carry a drink! Since she'd have to walk through populated areas, where there are tons of eyes to spy her. "Oh, probably another few days?" he roughly estimates, while slowly pushing off from the chair and taking a few cautious steps towards that table. He circles it a bit, frowning as he attempts to reach it… and ends up foiled. Crouching is out of the question too and he just sighs in exasperation and a few colourful curses. "And not soon enough! This is really starting to get on my last nerves!" Injuries suck. Grumpily, he places his hands over his hips and looks sidelong to Ulrika and Novi, if she's returned by that point. "Looks like I'm eating this back at my ground weyr." Not HIS weyr, which is also ground level but may as well be half way across the planet currently.

Trailiing behind one of the assistant cooks, Novi's looking grumpily at the man's back, "Wine is acceptable?" is asked, and before a reply can be given the assistant is turning and leaving. Novi will simply go back to dusting, what else is there for her to do anyway? She's not going to be allowed in the water right now anyway.

The prognosis has the guard-Candidate wrinkling her nose with sympathy. While the injury could be worse, she's definitely not the one to say it. Instead, Ulrika says, "I hope it recovers more swiftly than that, Va'os." She's about to say something else, but then falls silent while the bronzerider struggles to get in a position to acquire the food. Her brow furrows just a touch and, when he speaks again, she nods once. "Understood. I can take this to the weyr for you," there's a glance to Novi and the cook, though her expression remains patently unreadable. She'll take the wine, too, when it's brought. There might be a veneer of an offer over her words but there's a steady, steely undercurrent that's downright threatening to take him his food. Sure, he can deny it and she'll respect that because that's important - but otherwise? She takes her duties seriously.

"Thanks, Ulrika! Tsiroth and I will both be happy once we're back in fighting shape," Va'os admits without hesitation, as it's not something he'd hide. If anything, his protests of "doing nothing" will become louder over the next few days! "Wine's fine… not gonna protest if that's all there is." There's a smile flashed to Novi and a look for the assistant cook. Really? She had to be shadowed? He'd really have liked an ale or some whiskey but at this point… anything will do! He's gonna be hurting by the time he gets back to his weyr, even with Ulrika carrying the food and his wine glass. "If it's not gonna cut into your assigned chore too much, then yeah… I'll borrow you for a moment. Not that we're going far," he motions for Ulrika to gather everything while he gets a head start on walking. It's going to be a slow return back! "… let's get this over with." he mutters under his breath, while giving a half-wave, half-salute farewell to Novi. Eventually, they'll reach the destination and Va'os will give a few hasty orders of where Ulrika needs to place things before she's dismissed. At least his temporary weyr is no where near the embarrassing disaster mess his real one is? Alas, no real gossip there.

Novi gives a salute to Va'os leaves.

There's a brief glance to Novi, then back to Va'os with a nod. "There are plenty of duties to go around - and we don't have much else to do except chores and PT and lessons and eating." She'll figure out how to make up the lapse in chores later; the cooks know she's good for it. Ulrika follows after the Weyrleader without question, though she's careful about juggling the assorted food and drink without spillage. Thank Faranth for good balance! The food is arranged as requested, further offers of assistance made - to be redeemed at his leisure, if not immediately, and then it's eventually back to chores with her, too; lamentably without any good bits of information to carry with her.