Hal was very nearly done setting up lights for the show. He had installed the various cranks and cams necessary to run them all from his position behind the spotlight and was running tests. The Blink Light, as he had been calling it, worked just like his commissioner had suspected. It was a little brain-breaking to see the slowed movements everything took on when he turned the crank, though.

He opened up the iris on the spotlight and frowned. The phosphor bulb inside was growing dim. He decided to go ahead and replace it. Fishing out a fresh one from his crate, he opened up the side of the light unit and undid the wires holding the old bulb down. He switched it with the new one and locked the cover back down. He gave the iris lever a flick. Satisfied with the brightness of the new bulb, he flicked it back closed and went to put the old bulb in a separate crate to be gotten rid of later.

The problem was, his little light booth two stories up in the tent wasn't the most maneuverable space. He tripped on a cable and the little glass orb went flying from his hand.

"Oh, shi- Look out below!!"

A shattered glass orb would be good for no one.

Gi was taking a walk, since she wasn't directly involved in the show setup. Mostly, though, she had wanted to see what was going on with the lighting. Phosphor bulbs were amazing. They shone bright without magic, or fire...how the heck did they even work? She didn't know, but they sure were pretty. It was documented that Gi really, really liked shiny things. Almost as much as she liked fuzzy things.

The bulb fell almost as she was right under it, and she jumped.

"Wo chet! Hal, brunno, are you alright? Can I help you down from there? You're pretty high up. Assume this is for the show?"

She moved over closer to the stage, careful to avoid the broken glass. "We better clean that up, too. Don't want anyone stepping in it."

"Ne, 's'fine," Hal said, waving off her concern, "I c'n get down. You okay down there? Didn' hit'cha, did I?"

He started climbing down a rope ladder that came down behind the seating.

"Jus' gets a li'l tight up there, an' yeh can't see where yer goin'."

He trotted around, keeping an eye on the glass-- he only had thin sandals to protect himself from lacerating his foot. Picking carefully through, he picked up a few of the larger pieces gingerly, stacking them neatly in his hands. Soon there were only a few hundred slivers and pieces too small to pick up with his hands.

"Well, that's trash," he muttered, "Ehrm... y'know where they keep a broom? I ha'n't needed one 'fore now."

"Ne, ne, I'm fine. Mujo ma. Let's see if there's one around, hmm? Watch your toes. You shouldn't be wearing shoes like that in this weather anyway. You'll catch cold."

She walked in circles several times around the tented stage, missing a broom that was leaning against the back side each time. She walked and walked, going slower in some places, looking closely at things that looked like brooms that weren't, walking quickly each time past the real thing. Gi wasn't very good at finding things. On her eighth time around, she went slower the whole way round, and came upon it. "When did this thing get here? I could've sworn there wasn't a broom."

She brought it out to where the shards of glass lay in wait for unsuspecting feet, and started to sweep them into a pile. "We're gonna need something to put this in. You know where a dustpan is?"

Hal stared blankly at Giana. He had watched the search for the broom with wide eyes. He hadn't known where the broom was. How was he supposed to know where the dustpan was?

He dropped his jaw, "Ahhhh...."

It didn't seem to help the thinking process. How was he supposed to know where the dustpan was? He was just the light boy. If she had asked where to find fastening wire and phosphor lines, he could've told her that. If she had asked where there were cranks and light units were, he could tell her that. If she had asked where to get a phosphor bulb, well, he could've shown her! She was the one that did domestic stuff like make breakfast.

"Aren't girls supposed t'know that kind of thing?" Did I just say that out loud?

He probably shouldn't have said that.

"Did you just say what I think you said? I asked you because you've been here longer. Figured you might know better than I do, ye chen? I didn't know where the broom was. I don't know where the dustpan is. Does that make me some kinda defective girl in your eyes? We can do a lot more than cook and clean, lemme tell you. Didn't your parents, ever? Boch, you can't just be tellin' girls things like that. They kinda get offended. Maybe I just won't be helpin' you clean this up. I guess you'll have to get some other girl to do it for you, hmm? Sexist. I can't believe you."

She turned away, crossed her arms, and made a very pouty face. This would not do, not at all. The boy wasn't going to grow up well at all if he didn't learn how to talk to girls. Such as not tell ing them they were supposed to know where the cleaning things were because of their gender. Vrunta, she'd thought he had a better mind on him than that. She could've been interpreting this all wrong, of course, but when Gi started on a rant, it went on for a bit, in whatever direction it felt like.

Oh, hell...

The girl was ranting. From what he'd heard, that usually wasn't a good thing. Apparently, she had "causes."

Hal went on the defense, "Well, I usually don't break stuff. I ent never needed a 'dustpan,' an' I figured you would," did I just call her clumsy? Recover! "Yer always doin' girly stuff anyway. You make us food all'a time," er, that ent really relevant, "An' if yer flirtin' with Tae and bakin'," I should stop, "you should know other girl stuff," this really isn't helping, "like sewin'," what? "'r cleanin'." There. No. That's not what I meant!

Ah, hell.

There was a shovel in his hands and he couldn't stop digging.

"You know, I know a lot of kovs...who do pretty much all the stuff you've said makes me enough of a girl to instinctively only do girl things. You're just gettin' on my nerves, Hal. Gettin'. On. My. Nerves."

It was clear she was trying to keep calm and wasn't doing a very good job with it. Her face had gone red under her dark skin and she had her small hands fisted tightly. She didn't appreciate being told she was something, that was for sure. Even if she was a bit girly, well...that didn't mean ANYTHING. She liked cooking, and for the gods' sakes Taegan was olio; she had an excuse for flirting! Come on! But she did not clean. Not girly clean, anyway. She picked up stuff now in case people came in her kint and so the hingles wouldn't get in it, but she wasn't some girly neat freak. No way. Hal had really better set down the shovel and back away if he knew what was good for him.

"I jus-- wamment-- s'not--" Hal fumbled desperately to fix it. But much like when you have a hammer and all problems look like nails, when you have a shovel, everything seems to need a hole... or perhaps just a deeper one.

Of all the things going through his mind at that moment, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way; I didn't mean any offense; Please disregard all previous statements, let's start this over; what had to come out of his mouth was, "Why are girls so sensitive?!"

"You---you little---" The comment really didn't help his case, as predicted. Boch must've been raised natt, to have such views about women. One didn't think like that as a tekaa, even a diluted one like Gi. Just because she was Eye didn't mean her parents hadn't hopped from one of the more nomadic tribes, bringing their free thinking with them (and, of course, eventually taking it away, mung dustin' tofts). She just generally did not appreciate being niched, not in the least.

Stupid boy. Stupid, stupid boy. Her face was slightly reddened, screwed up into a scowl that looked angry, but also slightly hurt, as if she might cry. She wouldn't, though. She'd just get called a girl. She liked being a girl, yes, but it signified nothing. Nothing at all.

Her fist shot out without warning, angling for whatever it could reach. It would've helped if the boy was taller than her, but he wasn't anywhere near so. She had considered a slap, but slaps were rather girly. Hopefully her fighting was still the slightly better than mediocre effort it had been when she was young and bitter over her parents and had released some of the anger and abandonment picking fights. Unfortunately, she'd grown out of this stage. However, she had something to prove today.

"Shi--" Whatever Hal had been expecting, it hadn't been that. Maybe tears or a shouting match. Not a punch. Gi's fist connected with his cheekbone. Her flailing hit wasn't strong and directed enough to make him see stars, but it was still enough to hurt and throw him off.

Hal reeled momentarily, off-balance. Then his Old Rose conditioning kicked in. He forgot that it was a girl that had punched him. Not that it would have mattered in the Rose. Girl street rats were just as fierce and nasty as boy street rats, so he'd squabbled with his fair share of them already.

His face twisted into an enraged scowl. With a cry that could be heard well outside the tent, Hal launched himself at Giana's midsection, planning on knocking her to the ground and pummeling her a good one, where his lack of height wouldn't matter.

Hal didn't start fights with girls, but he could finish them.

(( Hit was agreed upon. ))

Gi was likewise not expecting the charge. The boy's smaller weight was still able to throw her down in an unceremonious heap on the ground, and she screamed, an ear-splitting girl scream, but short.

Now she was a bit scared. She hadn't expected the kid to actually hit back. Shoot. And so the only solution was to flail around, hoping to hit something, with both hands and feet. Perhaps someone would step in soon. Perhaps.

(( sfsr! the giving of thanks is taking place as of now. ))

Hal bobbed and weaved his head, dodging as many blows as he could, though he did take a few sideswipes to the face and shoulders. He straddled her stomach and pulled his fist back and swung it full force, aiming for her cheekbone.

He wasn't sure he'd get her where he planned to, what with her flailing, but if he hit her anywhere, it would be hard.

(( Sorry, Gi. I couldn't stop him!! Also, SFSR ))

Jaqueline Hyde was content. She had a place to live, food to eat, a bit of money to spend if she wanted, and good friends to keep her company. Add to that the fact that her job was to wear fifty million disguises a day and jump around like a crazy person, and it could be said she was living her dream. A dream that sometimes included mundane chores, like repairing the nets for the highbeam, for example. She'd spent a good deal of the morning after breakfast just unpacking the darn things, and had managed to untangle them enough to inspect almost every knot, retying and repairing those that needed work. Jaq was almost halfway finished when suddenly...
Jaq's ears perked up, much like the ears on an osta kitten who thinks it may have found its next meal, only less meat-eaterly. Her head and body whirled around and moved on their own toward the sounds of what could only have been two male moas fighting over the last stale breadcrust. What she saw upon arrival, however, had far fewer feathers: Hal's fist, poised to strike Giana's face.

Without thinking of possible consequences or unintended bodily harm, Jaq jumped like a flash and grabbed the boy by the wrist, twisting it down and backwards just enough to subdue him.

"What in th'name o' all that's good an' pure an' decent an' edible is goin' on here?!" she cried as she wrestled to get Hal away from Giana.

Hal suddenly felt his arm being wrenched backwards. After all his power had been put into moving it forwards, the twisting was painful. He flailed his left arm backwards, trying to hit whoever was grabbing him.

"Git offa me, yeh tickin' stop clocker! Yer mother wuzza hingle an' yer pa's'a lightweight boozer!" He was in full Old Rose form, fighting dirty and talking dirtier, "T'weren't my fault! I'otta bash yer face in, tocker! She started it!"

Hal, needless to say, was mad.

"Fer yer information, me mam were a moa and me pop can hold his own in a one handed drinkin' contest, an' I'll thankee kindly t'remember that!" Jaq quickly grabbed Hal's flailing left arm and secured it with his right arm behind his back. She wasn't about to let go, but she was on her guard just in case he somehow did manage to get away.

"She started wot, an insult an' punchfest show? I highly doubt that!" The girl took a few steps back so that Gi was clear of Hal's feet in case he decided to dance a bit. "Now yer gonna listen t'me, boyo, an' yer gonna listen up good, ya hear? You clap that trap o' yers an' learn some manners or I'm takin' ye over to my good friend Clarabelle to teach you up right, aye?" If Hal was mad, Jaq was highly perterbed. Every minute she spent hogtying a passive was one more she didn't have to finish the nets so she could get a bit of food; she hadn't eaten since breakfast, and nothing good ever came of Jaq being hungry.

Jaq nodded to Giana. "On yer feet, girlie, an' tell me what happened. I expect a full report, all honesty and no exagerations! I can't stand exagerations!"

Gi scrambled up from her place on the ground, careful not to step on the glass still near there.

"Jaq! It all started when I was tryin' to help him clean up somethin', and he told me I should know where the cleanin' stuff was 'cause I'm a girl! An', an' he just kept sayin' more about how I was supposed to cook an' clean and I got really mad and hit him, not that hard, but he wouldn't stop talkin'! So yeah, I started it, I'm not gonna lie, but I didn't mean a fight! Just one hit. Boys don't know when t' stop, I swear. Hal, I'm sorry I got mad, but you gotta know how to talk to a girl. 'Specially a tekaa girl. Don't doubt nattle would take that speech a bit better."

She was still mad, but she'd warm up quick if he apologized suitably.

"I weren't tryin ta 'nsult'cha!" Hal hollered, still on the defensive, "I w's tryin'a make it be'er, bu'she got all mad a' me, an' nuffin' I said made it any be'er!"

When he was worked up, he sounded every bit the kid from the streets of Old Rose that he was.

He wriggled against Jaq's grip violently for a few moments, grumbling. His contorted face turned toward the ground, so they couldn't see. He was working through the strong bout of emotion-- the likes of which he hadn't felt for some weeks. It was taking some getting used to, oddly.

He took a deep breath and stopped fighting Jaq's grip, "I ent gonna hurt'er."

Jaq let go of Hal's arms and stood between him and Gi, just in case. "Well, that's all we needed, ain't it? A bit o' an explainin'. You," she said turnin to Giana, "don' need t'go gettin' worked up over every little thing anybody says. Sometimes people say one thing an' mean somethin' differnt, an' they'll usually tell ye if'n ye give 'em enough time t'say it. And you," she said pointedly, turning to Hal, "have a lot t'learn about th'ladies. We're a might sensitive folk, an' sometimes things you don' mean t'be hurtful feel like they are."

"Right!" Jaq exclaimed. "No harm, no foul, leastwise not too much. Shake hands, you too, an' try not to go fer the others' neck when ye do, please. An' when that's all over an' done, Gi you go get a broom, Hal you find the dustpan, and I'll grab a bin. Between th' three of us, we'll have this mess cleaned up in no time!"

Jaq shook her head. "Kids," she muttered to herself as she went to find the closest trash can. "Can't live with 'em, can't leave 'em stranded on the road wit' no food er water."

She did indeed extend a hand. "Sorry, Hal darlin', I did get a bit out of hand. Friends?"

"Already swept, but, oh, Hal, you've jostled it again. Did you get any in your feet? Hope not." She went and got the broom again, and re-swept them into another neat pile.

"There. Now if anyone knows where that clockin' dustpan is, I'd appreciate it, 'cause I've been here for barely two weeks n' I don't know where anything is."

Hal shook himself up after Jaq released him, keeping his head bowed without saying anything for a moment. Why did he always have to get so hot and bothered? She was the one who got all defensive... He sighed internally, his elbow twitched.

When she mentioned the glass, he glanced at his feet. His thin shoes hadn't protected him all that well... he supposed he'd have to clean them up pretty well, considering he could now feel the pain of a slice in his foot and a trickle of blood leaking into the shoe. He'd already been shamed once today, his pride couldn't stand admitting he was in pain.

He muttered something about going to find the dustpan and skittered gingerly out of the tent, hoping he wasn't walking funny enough for her to tell he had sliced his foot open.

Tick, tock, clock!!, he fumed.

Hal glanced around outside to check that no one could see him before sitting on the driest patch of grass he could find and pulling his shoe off, wincing obviously when the shoe rubbed the glass shard through the wound.

Hissing through his teeth, he looked at the lance through the outside edge of his foot. He could see the corner of the shard barely poking through. He was glad his shoes weren't any smaller, otherwise it might have pushed it deeper into the wound, where he'd have to ask for help to get it out.

Carefully pinching the corner of the glass sliver, he pulled it out with a moan, feeling the burn of tears in the back of his throat. Damn it. It shouldn't bother me this much. I never cried before... he shook his head, trying to rid himself of the added emotion of that night on Surwood.

He reached under his shirt and used his small blade to cut off a slice of the hem of his shirt. It was an old one, so he didn't care. Not that it did much to the image of the already shabby thing. Not that he would care if it did.

He wrapped his foot with it and slid it back into his shoe, noting that the slice in the worn cloth surface of the footwear was well hidden among its other nicks and scrapes.

Gimping gingerly, he went to his lighting kint, managing to find a metal sheet used as a sliding cover for one of the many storage boxes. He headed back to the tent with the makeshift dustpan, not knowing his nose and eyes were red.