"Maaaaaaaaaaaac? Ya 'dar?"

Two thin children, clad in rags and scraps sauntered out from behind the ship.

"Ha- Yaar, thukdaks. 'Ows 'unt'n?"

Mac replied in Street.

"S'cood s'pose. Ya?"

The girl replied.

"So-so. Ya see'n fa toil?"

"'Pends. ya find'n fa toil?"

"Maybeno, maybeso."

Mac spun for time.

"Eknubs cruz'n?"

Inquired the boy. Scratching at a greenish orangey fungus on one cheek.

"He's inside, she's in the market."

Mac dropped Street and picked up Common.

"Watcha got goin' then?"

Inquired the boy doing the same.

"Seven day? Nine day? Steady."

The girl's head shot up. Steady work was hard to come by; well actually steady work was easy to come by depending on how long you wanted to live. Mac's steady work was good 'cause she'd kill anything remotely dangerous before it knew it was dangerous.

"Watcha givin'?

Mac smiled beneath her hood and said plainly.

"Food."

"HeLa!"

Mika exclaimed as Mac handed out their payments. As if shocked by her own audacity to give voice to her emotions she quickly ducked her head, keeping a tight hold on the food parcel. Mac grinned without humor.

"You'll get same t'morrow if ya come."

Mika looked up in suspicion. She was new to the streets and the stories she'd been told about 'Mac' were none to reassuring. Suddenly Mac shrugged, appearing bored with the entire exchange.

"Makes me no diff if ya show or not. Rats are a tur a doz."

The girl looked up with a frantic light in her eyes.

"We come. You pay."

Mac smiled secretly under her hood. They were hers.