fandomhigh | Advanced Bird Haberdashery, Wednesday, period 2

Octavia was right; Duke absolutely should have just stayed home and cancelled class. But it was the first week, and everyone else seemed to be doing just fine with the whole "we got kidnapped by a monster and held in a volcano" thing, and Duke was determined to push through and be normal, too.

As normal as anyone could be, teaching a class on how to make hats for birds.

They were in a regular classroom this time, rather than the Danger Shop, which Duke was pretty sure meant they'd be dealing with actual live birds, which was just -- awesome. Sure. At least class one seemed to be porgs, judging by the flock hopping around the room. That worked out well, since Polly Lobster had followed him all the way to school.

There was also a wide array of bowls, baskets, buckets, and other small objects that could conceivably be placed on a small head that maybe didn't start with the letter B. So . . . improvised hats, then. Good to know.

"Hi." Duke waved to the class. "I'm Duke. This is --" He winced. "Advanced Bird Haberdashery. The moral of this class is 'don't piss off the moose'. You all look like you've been here awhile, so I'm not going to bother to explain that further." He looked at the porg sitting on the teacher's desk. "These are porgs. You've probably seen them around by now. They're friendly. Kinda judgy. No sense of boundaries." He was wandering off topic. "I guess . . . give them hats."

He picked up a small, brightly colored bowl, flipped it over, and put it on the porg's head. How was this his life.

He looked up at the class again, wishing he'd brought himself a cup of (heavily doctored) coffee. "And . . . tell me your name or something. I don't really care."

He really should have cancelled class this week.

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"Yeah." He was kind of regretting that, right this second. "Well. I'm not literally dangling over a pit of lava, so . . . six?"

He was possibly counting the pit of lava as like a four.

Rey was pretty sure she'd be at like a two if it was her, so she was mentally adjusting that six.

"You did make it to class..." Which whether it was a good idea or not, he'd made the attempt. "All right. What do you need?"

He had dragged himself here by force of sheer pigheadedness.

"Need for what?"

He wasn't deliberately trying to be obtuse here. It might have been the exhaustion, but he honestly didn't realize she was asking what she could do to help him.

She got it.

"For you to feel better than a six. Do you need a nap, a hug, a distraction...?"

Duke sighed, letting his head drop back into his hands. "Fuck, I don't even know."

He'd taken a shower and eaten and slept. Meditation and yoga weren't working -- last time he'd done either had been in the volcano itself, and he didn't need those reminders right now. Other than running away and/or goading someone into hitting him, he'd pretty much run out of coping mechanisms.