[REG]Step One:You...Cut a Hole in a Box...?{Iris+Thuban} FIN

[Shazari]

Charlemagne Boyle was not ashamed to admit that there were parts of Meadowview High he was less-than-familiar with. For example, the theater department's costume closet, or the band rehearsal room, or the room where they sent kids for internal suspension. He didn't generally find cause to frequent those places. One such place that Char had never managed to find himself in was the wood and metal shop, though he had walked past the door a few times on his way to Civics class and appreciated the masculine sounds of table saws and power drills as he went by.

Today, Charlie found himself in the wood and metal shop of Meadowview High. It was, disappointingly, mostly quiet and somewhat empty. Maybe that was for the best -- he wasn't sure how he could explain "I need to make a weapon that could fatally bludgeon to death a giant otherworldly monster, but that would be convenient and inconspicuous to carry around." (He still hadn't figured out what kind of weapon fit those criteria.)

He was just sifting through a big plastic dumpster full of oddly-shaped pieces of wood, looking for a heavy one, when he heard the vaguely familiar sound of metal screeching against metal -- like a Dremel or something, maybe. "Hello?" he called out, figuring trying to go unnoticed would be more suspicious.  

[LizzyMoo]

Dear stupid thief boy. Next time you try to steal my bike, please kick the kickstand up.

A blond girl was bitterly complaining in her mind as she tended to a task that needed her full attention. Thanks to a particular encounter earlier that week, her poor motorcycle had been left in a slight mess. The damages had been minimal, but the fact the culprit had escaped left the girl in less than a good mood.

Her long blonde strands of hair had to be pulled back, which she tied up with a bandanna to ensure she didn't get tangled up. Last thing she needed was a bald patch on her scalp. Other than this, the girl's uniform was just ask you'd expect from the school, with the addition of a protective apron and protective goggles. In her hand was the Dremel culprit and the long metal portion of her kickstand. The poor thing needed to be buffed a bit.

Thanks to a combination of the Dremel and the angry thoughts lingering through her mind, she hardly noticed the presence of another student.  

[Shazari]

A few minutes went by with no answer. Charlie decided that he had tried, and he had been ignored. He hated being ignored -- it was so mannerless. But in this case it was convenient, since it meant he still didn't have to explain his presence in the wood shop. Perhaps he could assemble a weapon and sneak back out unnoticed.

He pulled a chair over next to the dumpster, clambered up on it, and leaned halfway over into the dumpster full of off-sized pieces of wood he'd been eying before. He settled on a few big pieces of oak; they'd be heavy, probably very heavy. It might not be the most convenient thing to carry around, but it would build muscle, that was something. And more importantly, balsa wood might've been light, but it would crack if you looked at it the wrong way. Hardly youma-killing material.  

[LizzyMoo]

Several minutes went by as she dremeled away at kickstand before she turned off the equipment. Angry thoughts were still stewing through her mind, but now the lack of noise didn't distract her from the foreign sounds in the room. It sounded like someone was moving heavy crap around. Setting down the dremel and bringing her kickstand piece with her, she went to investigate.

Standing on a chair and peering into the dumpster was some guy. She'd seen him on campus before, but she never really bothered to get to know him. As she recalled, he was a jock. There were two branches in Jock-dom. One branch were the cool jocks, such as Zuniga was. The other was the *sshole branch. Sadly, the second branch was the more common these days.

With her goggles still over her eyes and all her protective gear still on, she asked "So, 'sup dude? What'cha up ta?" She was a bit wary, solely due to the jock-issue, so she remained a respectable distance away.  

[Shazari]

Charlie looked like a caveman for a few seconds when he turned back, a nearly-whole two-by-four clutched high in his right hand. "What was that?" he replied instinctively.

He stared at Ellie for a while after that, wrapping his head around the mask and protective gear that made her look less like a high school girl and more like the Michelin Man. "Do you think you could take all that crap off and say that again? I couldn't hear it, it was like you were -- speaking through bubble wrap." (This statement was a little baffling since Ellie's mouth wasn't really covered.)  

[LizzyMoo]

Mr. Jock right now was weighing up to expectations. He'd get the stare of "Are you stupid or something?" as she simple pushed the goggles up so her eyes weren't covered anymore. Her bandana wasn't getting removed, nor was her apron. It didn't even make sense that he was accusing her of talking through bubble wrap to begin with.

With the obvious obstruction out of the way, she once again repeated her statement slowly and clearly, like the boy was mentally retarded or something.

"So..... 'sup.... dude? .... What....'cha.... up.... ta?"

Not being very impressed, she still remained in place and crossed her arms. If he was going to be such a dingbat, she was going to wait a distance away so she could properly turn around and ignore him if necessary.  

[Shazari]

Charlie, who often failed to recognize the effect that his charming and winning ways had on people, reacted to this standoffish reply with confusion. He hopped down from the chair, two-by-four in hand, and set it on a pile of other large future implements of youma-hitting. "Oh, I see," he said conversationally. "That's just how you talk, sorry. Maybe if you open up your mouth a little wider when you speak? You have sort of a slur," Charlie suggested.

"I'm," he stuck his hands in his pockets, looking down at his scrap pile again. " -- building a spice rack." He smiled the biggest bullshit smile -- which on Charlie had more of a wholesome, boy-scoutish look to it. Based on the scrap wood he'd set out, he was either making the largest spice rack known to man, or he was planning on making a lot of mistakes. "It's for her birthday. You know how these things are."  

[LizzyMoo]

She merely just quirked a brow at the blatant insult. Guys said stupid things all the time, and many times their unique way of bonding was by insulting each other all the time. Yet, that was only if you were familiar, which she was not with this guy.

"I talk 'ow I want ta," she snapped back before taking a gander at his pile of material. That was a ridiculously larger pile of wood for such a small project. Ellie was quite familiar with the shop, and as a result, she was familiar with who came in.

This guy was a newcomer, hands down.

"Who's birthday, and 'ave ya even taken shop?" she prodded slightly without even moving from her spot.  

[Shazari]

The undercover senshi of Antiquity quirked his head to the side, apologetic. He felt awful for this girl and her speech impediment, and resolved to try not to bring much more attention to it. For all he knew, she'd been born with a cleft palate or something and had it repaired, and speaking perfectly was onerous. It would be awful to make her feel embarrassed about it! He'd ignore it from here on out, definitely.

"My mother's birthday, I figured a spice rack is like, a classic gift?" He shifted his weight from his left foot across to his right, making his best attempt to look unconcerned. It was pretty successful. "I've never taken shop, but, I know basically how hammers and power drills work, so no big deal, right? I'll be fine, man has been using tools to make his life easier since the Cro-Magnon times. What're you working on back there?" he shifted the topic none too smoothly.  

[LizzyMoo]

Her tone was a bit sharp as she pointed out her concern: "Any dumb*ss can use a tool, but it dun mean yer gonna be able t'use the tool without drillin' a hole through yer 'and." She shrugged slightly, figuring this was basically her way of saying that she'd help him with the safety aspect of shop.

When asked what her project was, she held out the metal piece in her hand. "Jus' prettying up my bike's kickstand. It got screwed over recently and needed t'get fixed up." As loosely as she was talking about a bike, it was obvious by the piece of metal in her hand that it wasn't a regular pedal-bike she was talking about.

She offered the piece of metal for further inspection by Mr. Jock (though whether he took the offer to take it or not was up to him). She once again couldn't help but eye the pile of wood. "Yer mum like t'cook?" she asked in a half curious fashion. It was the only way she figured that so much wood was necessary for such a small project.  

[Shazari]

He smiled again, trustworthy, Scout's honor. "Sure, she does." Charlie opted to ignore her suggestion that he would drill a hole through his hand -- as though that would happen! He was sure that drilling things was actually not too difficult. Look what sorts of people survived wood shop unscathed all the time.

The senior took in Ellie's clothes and odd, backswept hair, and grease splotches and iron filings. He put his hand out. "Charlie Boyle. Aren't you a little young to be riding and repairing motorcycles?"  

[LizzyMoo]

She shrugged slightly at the boy's comments. Initially, it was just at the mention that his mom liked to cook, but then the questioning about her age also seemed to fit the "shrug-worthy" category.

"My mum doesn't like t'cook at all. If it doesn't come frozen or premade, she can't make it. And even then, half th'time, she still screws up the premade stuff."

She planted her kickstand in the boy's hand and just grinned a bit. "Repairing bikes, never!" Ellie was proud of the fact she could do her own work in the garage. "All it takes is practice, and if ya got the practice, then age shouldn't make a difference."

There was still the issue of riding her bike that had yet to be addressed. If this had been a normal guy, maybe she would have given the response of "Can't accuse me of bein' too young unless the police catch me!" Yet this boy seemed to be a party pooper. Something seemed to reek of a "momma's boy" from him. Maybe it was the boyscout mannerisms he seemed to be upholding in front of her. And as far as she knew, boyscout-types were the type to snitch on you to the police.

So instead, she avoided the subject quite casually by pointing at her handiwork and asking "So what'cha think?"  

[Shazari]

Char looked awkward for a moment, holding his hand out, but he salvaged it by taking the outstretched piece of metal and examining it like he was on Antiques Roadshow. (In reality, he loved Antiques Roadshow.) "This is good craftsmanship," he assessed inexpertly, "I mean, from what I know about motorcycles, which is admittedly not enough to get me through the $400 level in Jeopardy. But that's cool, it's good to see someone with a worthwhile hobby, learning a trade and all. I get so used to Charys and her Professor Sherlock and the Mysterious Box of the d'Urbervilles and whatall." (Apparently this last statement made total sense to Charlie.)

He handed the kickstand back to Ellie, and began collecting his stockpile of scrap wood off of the floor. The way Charlie figured it, the best thing was to look like you knew what you were doing, and people were less apt to question it. "By the way, I didn't get your name," he tacked on.  

[LizzyMoo]

When she was given back her kickstand, she smoothed it over with her fingers before putting it into her apron. She couldn't help but wonder who was Charys, as well as why the hell this boy would be watching Jeopardy of all shows. It was such an old show, that it wasn't even really interesting to watch anymore. When her parents were home, they seemed to enjoy testing their ability to recall useless trivia by watching Jeopardy and Wheel of Fortune.

Her little mental questions soon enough were hushed when a real question was asked. If there was one thing Ellie had, it was manners. And a proper introduction required that she draw in close to the boy, shake his hand as best as she could with all the other pieces of wood in his arms. Where as many girls lacked a firm handshake, Ellie's was quite the opposite. It was strong and rivaled that of many guys. She had been trained properly.

"Name's Ellie Spectre. N'yer name is?"  

[Shazari]

If anything, Charlie's was the handshake of job interviews and receiving commendations and diplomas from important people: it was a very matter-of-fact, steady one--two--done sort of rhythmic sequence. This was a good thing, because before he even got his hand back to his side, some of the pile of wood in his hand was beginning to slip and he had to grab out quickly to catch it. "I'm Charlie Boyle. A senior, I'm on the track team. It's good cardio."

This was apparently Caring and Sharing Hour with Charlemagne Boyle. He crossed to a nearby table, and set the stack down on it, where it rolled and jostled into a new, unshapely pile. "So, are you from a family of mechanics, or is this just something you took an interest in on your own?" Charlie began lining up blocks of wood next to each other in different random configurations -- an engineer he was definitely not.