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The Boards, Saturday, All Day

Jono could go out drinking today. It was, after all, definitely the day for it. He could head to one of the bars, order something extremely hoppy and most certainly imported, and just drink himself stupid. He hadn't had a chance to do that on St. Patrick's Day in, well, years.

He could. And that was new and novel, and kind of amazing, really.

Except that he'd looked at the calendar, and he'd realized that there were all of two more rehearsals before the performance. Which was on Friday. Which meant that tomorrow would be act two, and Thursday would be the dress rehearsal, and then... When the hell had it become March, anyhow?

And so, instead of going out to enjoy the festivities, Jono was going over all the sets and props, making certain that everything was sturdy and functional, checking and re-checking the layout of the lights, rehearsing all of the musical numbers on his guitar. And, theoretically, selling tickets.

Today was going to be a very Petey Paddy's Day.

[Open, and yet again, OCD-free!]

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Fortunately for Jono, there was a Karla around to ease his mind in regards to at least one part of rehearsal. "Kiss kiss," she called, poking her head into the theater. "Special delivery!"

"You," Jono called down, "are my hero. You know that?"

He was up above, in the catwalks, putting coloured gels over the lights that would be illuminating the 'Make You A Man' portion of the show. Because funky lighting was kind of mandatory when bringing... whatever Samus was... to life in a mad scientist's lab.

"I'll be right down, luv. Just give me a moment."

"Even if I do, I don't mind being told," Karla called up to him, calling in a few boxes. She'd dropped by 'Dite's after her ice cream date with Ben and had been happy to see all the clothing she'd ordered had been delivered that afternoon.

"Take your time," she added. "I'm just gonna open these up and poke through them." She wasn't going to wear any of those costumes, no way, but she didn't mind looking at them.

And snickering.

"I imagine they're all fairly horrifying," Jonothon shared as he finished fixing a red colour filter over the nearest light before making his way back toward the ladder down. "Some of those corsets need to fit Hercules, after all."

Picture that one, Karla. Picture it and fear.

"You didn't have any trouble getting any of this in, did you?"

"Why did you tell me that?" Karla groaned, burying her face in her hands. "Yeah. I'm not gonna unsee that. Probably ever."

Damn you, Jono. Damn you.

"What was the question again?" She was still reeling from the idea of Hercules in a corset.

Jono was just smirking, now, as he stepped back down to the floor and started her way.

"I told you because I'm a terrible person, Sunbeam," he shared, sounding just a touch too pleasant about it. "And really, with so many students in the show, what he'll be wearing is probably still going to be less revealing than that skirt-with-a-sash number that he used to wear. You know, the one with the sandals that go up to his thighs?"

Jonothon was so charming.

"Next time, you can order your own damn costumes," Karla mumbled. "Teach you to be terrible."

"It could be worse," Jono offered. "For a while there, I was wondering if I was going to be stuck playing the role of Petey, myself."

A beat, as he rummaged through the costuming, and then held up the golden Speedo.

"I don't think it's my colour, really."

"Put that down!" Karla squealed, tossing something brightly colored and spangled at his head. "I already had to picture Hercules in something--" she shuddered. "I'm not picturing you in those, too! Don't make me go digging for something horrible to wear to show to you."

Jono wasn't quite laughing as he caught Equadoria's sequinned corset in one hand, no. But it was a near thing.

"Costume racks are just over there," he noted, pointing that way with one thumb. "I'm certain you can find some truly horrible outfits in there, actually..."

So sue him, he knew about her aversion to showing off her knees, and so he was mostly just curious about what in the world she could possibly find in there that she might attempt to scar him for life with.

"You are horrible," Karla informed him, not rising to his bait. Mostly because she knew this was a battle she could not win. "So mean to me and for no good reason. I came and did you a favor. Brat."

"Oh, come now. You know I could be far worse, if I put any sort of effort into it," Jono replied, that little smirk still pulling at the corners of his mouth. "But, you know me. Effort takes... effort."

And that was hard.

Still, this was one heck of an improvement over some of his less stellar moments over the last few months.

Karla wasn't going to point that. Seeing Jono smile, even just a smirk, even one that was mostly for show, made her heart glad.

"I'm so glad it's not anything like residual fondness for me holding you back," Karla said with a roll of her eyes. "Saving all your energy for all the drinking of chewy green beers later, or something?"

Jono celebrated this holiday, right?

Of course he did! When he wasn't drowning in corsets and lighting issues and sound cues and...

"Drowning in work to do, actually," he admitted, glancing back up toward the lighting above them. "I'm almost tempted, I'll admit. It isn't like I've been out drinking for this holiday for the past several years, after all."

And that was sad.

"I suppose one more won't hurt anything."

Just watch. This time next year, he'll have lost his jaw again, or something.

"What's it actually about?" Karla asked, since Jono would probably know, instead of just going along with it. "It seems like a celebration of the color green and alcohol. Which, you know, is fine, but I don't really see why it's worth making a holiday about."

"Believe it or not, it started as a religious holiday," Jono replied, shrugging. "An and Irish one. You've been on Earth long enough to know about the country Ireland, right?"

He wasn't going to wait long enough for her to answer. She knew that it was a country now, which was going to have to do.

"The story goes, a man was kidnapped by Irish raiders and held there as a slave. He was told by God in a dream to escape, and once he did, he studied to become a priest in Britian, and returned to Ireland to teach them about his God. He performed miracles while he was there, found a way to explain the concept of the Christian three-in-one God that the Irish could understand, and... somehow over the past fifteen or sixteen centuries, the Irish turned that into a feast in his honour."

A beat.

"The green is probably a Shamrock thing, and the drinking is because Christians traditionally have restrictions on drinking and on eating certain foods around this time of year, but it's difficult to have a proper feast without either, I suppose. Anyhow, Irish people took their holiday with them when people started moving around and settling other parts of the world, and, as people tend to do with feasts for Saints, it became more about the obvious celebrating bits than about the actual Saint that was being celebrated."

Aren't you glad you asked, Karla?

"Oh," Karla nodded. "I guess that makes sense."

Beat.

"What's a Saint?"

There were a few points that still needed clarification, though. Sorry, Jono.

Really, just the one question? Jono actually felt as though he was getting off easy, here.

"By Christian standards, somebody who has gone above and beyond the call of duty to do the work of God," he replied, shrugging. "By everybody else's, it's mostly just somebody long-dead who did something that was probably good, somewhere down the road."

He imagined that Saints Valentine, Patrick, and Nicholas would probably all roll over if they realized what their respective memories had been turned into.

Oh, don't worry, Jono. There would be others. Many others. She'd just found that it was easier to keep track of her questions if she didn't ask them all at once!

"And the three-in-one god?" Beat. "And why did he need to be told by god to escape? Isn't that kind of common sense?"

Well. So much for getting off easy, then.

"I imagine God told him how to escape," Jono replied, rolling his eyes. "Escaping from slavery seems like a bit of a given, true. And the three-in-one... the trinity... is a little more complicated."

Jono found, sometimes, that saying something was complicated often spared him the headache of having to explain it at all.

... Though, really, Saint Patrick was famous for explaining this particular something in the first place.

Karla smiled up at him and made herself comfortable. Explain away, Jono. Go right ahead. She'd just be sitting here, preparing her questions in advance.

Damn you, Karla. This was your revenge for that mental image of Hercules, wasn't it?

Jono sighed and found himself a place to sit down.

"Keeping in mind that I don't particularly bother worshipping any one almighty deity, myself," he noted. "You know about Jesus already. I have heard bits of your somewhat colourful re-tellings of the Christmas story, after all. And you know that he's supposed to be the son of God?"

He had to check. It was difficult to explain when he wasn't even certain if she understood the basics.

"Yep," Karla said, nodding. "He was sent to earth because people were sinning and then he died. I don't know how that helped, because lots of people die, but I guess his was to prove a point. And then he came back three days later as the Easter bunny."

Was she trolling you, Jono?

WHO KNEW?

"... Something like that, but without the Hallmark card sales-booster. The rabbit comes from something completely different, Sunbeam."

Jono was going to err on the side of caution, perhaps, and just set the record straight anyhow. Patiently. Because his other option was to just hand her a bible and tell her to read, but there was no way in hell that doing so could possibly be a good idea. Even his brief exposure to Kaeleer was enough to convince him of that.

AHAHAHAHA. DO IT, JONO. YOU SHOULD DO IT. HAND HER ONE AND THEN SIT BACK AND WATCH THE EXPLOSION.

"Are you sure?" Karla asked, brow furrowed. "I thought it was a big deal, the thing about him coming back to life after three days as the Easter bunny." She frowned. "On the google, people mention zombie-Jesus. Is he that, then?"

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The Boards, Saturday, All Day

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