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xp_logsClarice and Jake talk about the possible risks and benefits of her starting a couier business.
Jake had said he would talk to her about starting her own courier business and Clarice was excited. She had sort of been hesitant to approach him about it, he never seemed to talk about it and she wasn't sure if it was a sensitive subject or not. However, she would buy him beers and they would talk and it would hopefully be good. If not...well, she'd know that too then.
Harry's wasn't very busy right now, it was still earlier than most people came in for drinks which was perfect. Clarice took smug satisfaction in showing Harry her ID too when she ordered a drink for herself. He knew she had been under 21 and now she was legally 21 so he couldn't stop her. Harry was awesome like that. She also ordered them some mozzarella sticks and stuffed mushrooms to munch on while they had their beers. Now...Jake just needed to show up.
This had the potential to get very awkward, Jake mused as he walked into Harry's. He liked Clarice well enough, but they weren't close enough for him to have any idea how much she knew about his present situation. Still, he could probably keep things vague enough that it wouldn't be an issue.
He slid into the booth across from her with a teasing grin. "Don't you know you're supposed to have a drink waiting for your date?"
"Please," Clarice rolled her eyes and gestured to the server that was approaching, "I don't pretend to assume I know what my date wants," she retorted, "Though you're also not my date. You're a business consultation. I'm expensing this thing, baby," that she didn't have a business officially or an expense account did not factor in to her statement.
He grinned again at that. "Good, you're learning." After ordering a Guinness, he settled more comfortably into the booth. "Rule one, put as much as possible on the expense account." He glanced around briefly; it was oddly comforting to know that Harry's hadn't changed much. "So. You want to start a couriering business."
"Well, it makes sense," she began, sipping her own beer, "I've got powers for it. I can be self employed which means I work around the team and school. If I don't make money, I don't have to pay employees or worry about losing my house or something. I figure, my start up capital is zero. I can only win no matter how little I work," and at least initially, she did not intend to do too much.
"Huh," was his reply as a pint glass was set in front of him. He took a long drink, thinking, trying to figure out how best to approach this. "And the risks?"
"Well, I'm hoping to minimize them. No drugs, no weapons, no biotoxins, no people, that sort of thing...but I know that doesn't mean I won't potentially be dealing with some less than savory people. I think I'm going to try to avoid those people...I'd like to start small, no giant corporation or governments, that sort of things. And I reserve right to refuse service to anyone for any reason," Clarice was reasonable enough to know that the courier field was fairly lucrative....and dangerous. She didn't want to deal in espionage though.
Jake blinked, then bit his lip, trying not to laugh. It was...well, it was cute, really, but he had the feeling that saying that out loud might lead to glittery bruises. "So," he asked once he was sure he could talk without his voice betraying him, "what exactly are you planning on couriering, if you won't take those?"
If Clarice suspected that he wasn't taking her seriously or that he didn't think she could handle it, this would be a very short conversation. "Well, businesses have to transport supplies, right? Like, I was reading about this oil rig in Alaska, it's only reachable for supplies a few months of the year. It never goes above freezing there. And people risk their lives to get them food and stuff, but we need oil, you know? Or there are people living in remote islands in the oceans that need food and supplies delivered. And these places aren't exactly tourist attractions, like Easter Island. So I can get there really fast."
Alright, so she had done some of her homework. Jake took another long pull on his beer, thinking carefully as he licked the foam from his lips. "Fair enough. And if someone wants you to courier something no questions asked, or hands you something they say has parts for an oil rig but in reality is something else? Or if a rival group of whatsits on whatever remote island you're delivering to decides they deserve the food more than their mortal enemies?" There was no heat in his words, just idle curiosity.
Groaning, Clarice waited as the waitress brought the appetizers she had ordered and took a hot mozzarella stick, "I can't police everyone and make them do the right thing, Jake. But I can decide what jobs I do or don't take. If I find out it's a bad thing, I don't work with them again...and yeah, I do think I can say no without getting killed for it. Because I don't have to give people my address, I can have a PO Box for business mail...which I can't see being much. And I don't have to give my name either, I can just use my business name. I'm sure if someone were serious enough, they could find me, but that's true now too with the X-Men," she didn't think it would be any more dangerous. Hopefully, it'd be a lot less.
"That's the thing, though," he countered. "You can't police everyone. You can't police anyone. That's not what people are looking for in a courier. Our motto at Infonet--" and good job, Gavin, jumping into the mess he'd really been hoping to avoid, "--was 'paid to deliver, not to question.' Because no one wants you to know what, exactly, they're delivering--especially you." He swiped a mushroom and took a bite, trying to ignore his father's voice echoing in the back of his head.
"The problem is, it's not a safe business. We had a good reputation for being discreet and a solid pack of thugs ready to bloody people at the slightest insult, and our people still got hurt, or worse." He shifted uncomfortably, the fingers of his left hand flexing as if cramped. "And that was a fairly large company with a lot of firepower. Are you ready for the day when the X-Men have to come pick you up, or worse yet, avenge you?"
That gave Clarice a pause. "UPS and Fed Ex can take packages places. So can I," she stated almost defiantly. She knew she wasn't immortal better than most kids her age, but at the same time, she was stubborn as a mule. That was how she had managed to get where she was after all, "I can take measures to only deal with reputable people. And I'm fast. I've been taken out once, Jake. I was at a nightclub and a pipe bomb went off giving me a concussion. That's it. It wasn't even intentional. I might not be infallible, but I'm damn fast and unpredictable."
Jake shook his head. "That's the thing. UPS and FedEx can take packages places, and it's legal, safe, and leaves a paperwork trail. You, on the other hand, are the very definition of impossible to track--you could take a tracking chip to Moscow, leave it while you 'ported to Tasmania and back, and then pick up the chip and 'port home. Not to mention you insta-dodge customs, which is automatically a huge red flag-slash-bonus."
He sighed, leaning back in the booth, softening his tone. "I'm not trying to shoot down your dreams, but...it's complicated. It's a complicated business. I wasn't good at it just because I radiate 'please don't hurt me,' or because I run really fast." He shrugged, stealing a mozzarella stick. "I just don't want you jumping in feet first without knowing how deep the water is. And yes, that's a lousy metaphor."
"Well, right now, I'm looking at approaching some of those companies I mentioned, ones that have to get supplies to hard-to-reach places. Ones that I know are legit and whatnot...I don't want to put other couriers out of business or go into war zones or whatever. I'll leave that to people like you. But I can try this...and if it doesn't work," she shrugged, "Not like I'll owe investors or have any start up capital to lose." He had given her a lot to think about now. More than she had anticipated.
"True," he nodded, eyes never leaving her. "Just, be careful. And good luck."
Jake had said he would talk to her about starting her own courier business and Clarice was excited. She had sort of been hesitant to approach him about it, he never seemed to talk about it and she wasn't sure if it was a sensitive subject or not. However, she would buy him beers and they would talk and it would hopefully be good. If not...well, she'd know that too then.
Harry's wasn't very busy right now, it was still earlier than most people came in for drinks which was perfect. Clarice took smug satisfaction in showing Harry her ID too when she ordered a drink for herself. He knew she had been under 21 and now she was legally 21 so he couldn't stop her. Harry was awesome like that. She also ordered them some mozzarella sticks and stuffed mushrooms to munch on while they had their beers. Now...Jake just needed to show up.
This had the potential to get very awkward, Jake mused as he walked into Harry's. He liked Clarice well enough, but they weren't close enough for him to have any idea how much she knew about his present situation. Still, he could probably keep things vague enough that it wouldn't be an issue.
He slid into the booth across from her with a teasing grin. "Don't you know you're supposed to have a drink waiting for your date?"
"Please," Clarice rolled her eyes and gestured to the server that was approaching, "I don't pretend to assume I know what my date wants," she retorted, "Though you're also not my date. You're a business consultation. I'm expensing this thing, baby," that she didn't have a business officially or an expense account did not factor in to her statement.
He grinned again at that. "Good, you're learning." After ordering a Guinness, he settled more comfortably into the booth. "Rule one, put as much as possible on the expense account." He glanced around briefly; it was oddly comforting to know that Harry's hadn't changed much. "So. You want to start a couriering business."
"Well, it makes sense," she began, sipping her own beer, "I've got powers for it. I can be self employed which means I work around the team and school. If I don't make money, I don't have to pay employees or worry about losing my house or something. I figure, my start up capital is zero. I can only win no matter how little I work," and at least initially, she did not intend to do too much.
"Huh," was his reply as a pint glass was set in front of him. He took a long drink, thinking, trying to figure out how best to approach this. "And the risks?"
"Well, I'm hoping to minimize them. No drugs, no weapons, no biotoxins, no people, that sort of thing...but I know that doesn't mean I won't potentially be dealing with some less than savory people. I think I'm going to try to avoid those people...I'd like to start small, no giant corporation or governments, that sort of things. And I reserve right to refuse service to anyone for any reason," Clarice was reasonable enough to know that the courier field was fairly lucrative....and dangerous. She didn't want to deal in espionage though.
Jake blinked, then bit his lip, trying not to laugh. It was...well, it was cute, really, but he had the feeling that saying that out loud might lead to glittery bruises. "So," he asked once he was sure he could talk without his voice betraying him, "what exactly are you planning on couriering, if you won't take those?"
If Clarice suspected that he wasn't taking her seriously or that he didn't think she could handle it, this would be a very short conversation. "Well, businesses have to transport supplies, right? Like, I was reading about this oil rig in Alaska, it's only reachable for supplies a few months of the year. It never goes above freezing there. And people risk their lives to get them food and stuff, but we need oil, you know? Or there are people living in remote islands in the oceans that need food and supplies delivered. And these places aren't exactly tourist attractions, like Easter Island. So I can get there really fast."
Alright, so she had done some of her homework. Jake took another long pull on his beer, thinking carefully as he licked the foam from his lips. "Fair enough. And if someone wants you to courier something no questions asked, or hands you something they say has parts for an oil rig but in reality is something else? Or if a rival group of whatsits on whatever remote island you're delivering to decides they deserve the food more than their mortal enemies?" There was no heat in his words, just idle curiosity.
Groaning, Clarice waited as the waitress brought the appetizers she had ordered and took a hot mozzarella stick, "I can't police everyone and make them do the right thing, Jake. But I can decide what jobs I do or don't take. If I find out it's a bad thing, I don't work with them again...and yeah, I do think I can say no without getting killed for it. Because I don't have to give people my address, I can have a PO Box for business mail...which I can't see being much. And I don't have to give my name either, I can just use my business name. I'm sure if someone were serious enough, they could find me, but that's true now too with the X-Men," she didn't think it would be any more dangerous. Hopefully, it'd be a lot less.
"That's the thing, though," he countered. "You can't police everyone. You can't police anyone. That's not what people are looking for in a courier. Our motto at Infonet--" and good job, Gavin, jumping into the mess he'd really been hoping to avoid, "--was 'paid to deliver, not to question.' Because no one wants you to know what, exactly, they're delivering--especially you." He swiped a mushroom and took a bite, trying to ignore his father's voice echoing in the back of his head.
"The problem is, it's not a safe business. We had a good reputation for being discreet and a solid pack of thugs ready to bloody people at the slightest insult, and our people still got hurt, or worse." He shifted uncomfortably, the fingers of his left hand flexing as if cramped. "And that was a fairly large company with a lot of firepower. Are you ready for the day when the X-Men have to come pick you up, or worse yet, avenge you?"
That gave Clarice a pause. "UPS and Fed Ex can take packages places. So can I," she stated almost defiantly. She knew she wasn't immortal better than most kids her age, but at the same time, she was stubborn as a mule. That was how she had managed to get where she was after all, "I can take measures to only deal with reputable people. And I'm fast. I've been taken out once, Jake. I was at a nightclub and a pipe bomb went off giving me a concussion. That's it. It wasn't even intentional. I might not be infallible, but I'm damn fast and unpredictable."
Jake shook his head. "That's the thing. UPS and FedEx can take packages places, and it's legal, safe, and leaves a paperwork trail. You, on the other hand, are the very definition of impossible to track--you could take a tracking chip to Moscow, leave it while you 'ported to Tasmania and back, and then pick up the chip and 'port home. Not to mention you insta-dodge customs, which is automatically a huge red flag-slash-bonus."
He sighed, leaning back in the booth, softening his tone. "I'm not trying to shoot down your dreams, but...it's complicated. It's a complicated business. I wasn't good at it just because I radiate 'please don't hurt me,' or because I run really fast." He shrugged, stealing a mozzarella stick. "I just don't want you jumping in feet first without knowing how deep the water is. And yes, that's a lousy metaphor."
"Well, right now, I'm looking at approaching some of those companies I mentioned, ones that have to get supplies to hard-to-reach places. Ones that I know are legit and whatnot...I don't want to put other couriers out of business or go into war zones or whatever. I'll leave that to people like you. But I can try this...and if it doesn't work," she shrugged, "Not like I'll owe investors or have any start up capital to lose." He had given her a lot to think about now. More than she had anticipated.
"True," he nodded, eyes never leaving her. "Just, be careful. And good luck."
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