There was a point where I was happy to believe it all. The promise of status, a wife and family. I spent a long time lamenting over the fact that I must be broken. Defective.
The high level concept is this: usually, a client will reach out to me with work. Generally, they have one target in mind, though occasionally they get greedy and will ask me to add one or more to the list. Should I agree to their terms, I perform the necessary research -- what their security looks like, the best time to enter or leave, the usual things you might expect.
The job itself is typically planned down to the second, though there are hiccups, now and again. Occasionally there's violence -- as you might expect, most people don't take too kindly to strange men in their homes or vaults or what have you.
I'm not picky about my jobs, which means my work takes me from the planets on the upper crust, so to speak, veritably plated in gold, to the types of stations that look liable to fall apart at the barest touch. And due to the nature of what I do, people you might consider "innocent" are the ones who suffer, and occasionally may get hurt. Another unfortunate symptom of the work.
[ He allows for a small smile, tinged with good humor. ]
I would take care not to discuss it, mainly, but I won't be quitting or forcing you to leave, simply because we have a disagreement regarding my profession.
[ He nods, ostensibly in a sympathetic manner. If the boy can't handle theft, then Myriad's decision to not make mention of his actual professions was better thought-out than expected. Initially the lie had been for practical reasons -- who would ever accept help from an assassin so soon after a near assassination? -- but he'll keep up appearances, as necessary.
It's nothing he's not used to. ]
It's a difficult thing to wrap one's head around, admittedly. Aside from the legal repercussions, there are the moral issues one must contend with, as well. You'll find I do quite a lit of compartmentalizing, I'm afraid.
I know. I don’t hold it against you or anything. Just… [ there’s a pause there as he yawns ]. Exhaustion is catching up to him. Gonna need an adjustment period.
[ The contact is… a little surprising, but oddly not unwelcome. It’s comforting, in a way, and again Charlie finds himself with the urge to ask Myriad to stay. He swallows it down. The Changer has other things to do, he doesn’t need to babysit Charlie all night long, so in the end, Charlie just nods. ]
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pullmeoutalive2014-06-27 11:45 pm
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There was a point where I was happy to believe it all. The promise of status, a wife and family. I spent a long time lamenting over the fact that I must be broken. Defective.
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I'm glad. I made my career in breaking the law, not in reprogramming decades of conditioning.
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Will that be a problem?
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It's quite alright if you do not approve, my dear boy. As I said, you are more than welcome to speak your mind.
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The job itself is typically planned down to the second, though there are hiccups, now and again. Occasionally there's violence -- as you might expect, most people don't take too kindly to strange men in their homes or vaults or what have you.
I'm not picky about my jobs, which means my work takes me from the planets on the upper crust, so to speak, veritably plated in gold, to the types of stations that look liable to fall apart at the barest touch. And due to the nature of what I do, people you might consider "innocent" are the ones who suffer, and occasionally may get hurt. Another unfortunate symptom of the work.
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If I took issue with it, what would you do?
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I would take care not to discuss it, mainly, but I won't be quitting or forcing you to leave, simply because we have a disagreement regarding my profession.
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I guess just... give me some time to get used to the idea.
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It's nothing he's not used to. ]
It's a difficult thing to wrap one's head around, admittedly. Aside from the legal repercussions, there are the moral issues one must contend with, as well. You'll find I do quite a lit of compartmentalizing, I'm afraid.
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[ He lifts a hand, visibly hesitating before seemingly biting the bullet; he rests his hand lightly on Charlie's shoulder. ]
If you need me, I'm just a shout away, alright?
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Alright. Thank you.
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Sleep well, Charlie.