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[myownprice]

[No cute away message here. Just a single sentence, slightly muffled by his helmet.]

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[myownprice]

[As the weather has chilled in Maurtia Falls, Boba has gotten busier. With fewer people willing to make their own deliveries in the cold and fewer couriers willing to do the work for them, it seems like winter is set to be a very profitable season for him indeed.

He’s only just finished one job when he receives another message, requesting a delivery that afternoon. He responds immediately.]

What’s the job?

text

[devoutish]

[Instead of answering the question, he drops the address of a local pizza parlor.]

Come for a chat.

[He doesn't like discussing details over the communicators.]

Re: text

[myownprice]

[Understandable. Boba is used to clients who prefer to discuss details face-to-face.]

Who should I look for?

text

[devoutish]

Ask for Alfie at the door. I'll be at a table, they'll direct you to it.

action;

[myownprice]

[The name stirs some vague memories of conversations overheard from one or two clients in the past. This "Alfie" is probably someone well-acquainted with Maurtia Falls’ underbelly, then, though that’s not at all unusual given the type of jobs Boba often takes—and he apparently has connections at this address. Boba mentally files away the information, checks his pocket for his knife, and then heads out.

He arrives at the pizza parlor a few minutes later. Just as instructed, he asks for “Alfie” at the door and is led to a table where a bearded man is seated. Boba’s expression is one of practiced indifference as he regards the man, and he neither speaks nor sits down.

It appears there may be a reason he's earned the nickname "Ghost" among his clients.]

action;

[devoutish]

[Alfie doesn't bother to hide his surprise when Boba arrives - he sits back in his chair, raises his eyebrows, and crosses his arms over his chest.]

Fucking hell, how old are you?

[Not so young that Alfie will censor his potty mouth for him, apparently. And... Alfie looks him up and down. Probably not so young that he wouldn't hire him for small deliveries. He has younger boys ferry around money and parts at home, sometimes.]

[myownprice]

[That impassive demeanor cracks just slightly at the man’s reaction. Boba lifts his head, looking up at the man with narrowed eyes.]

Thirteen, [he lies.] Old enough to get things done.

[Bigger things than this, too.]

So what’s the job?

[devoutish]

[Instead of answering, Alfie hands him a menu.]

Order what you like first. My treat.

[myownprice]

[Alfie’s response seems to take Boba by surprise. He stands there for another few seconds, staring at the man as if trying to work out a puzzle. Then, he appears to make up his mind and takes the menu, before taking a seat across from Alfie at the table.]

Thanks, [he says after a moment, though his tone is a shade too unsure to sound sincere. Still, strange as the situation is, a free meal is a free meal. Boba orders a slice of pizza with plenty of toppings, though his dubious pronunciation leaves little doubt that he doesn’t know what most of them are. Then, he looks back up at Alfie—once again saying nothing and watching expectantly for him to make the next move.]

[devoutish]

[Alfie helpfully points out the meanings, even if he doesn't ask, and after the waiter has taken their orders (Alfie just gets a plain slice of cheese for himself), he leans forward with his elbow on the table, clasping his hands in front of him.]

Right. I'll be needing someone to take a box and an envelope across town this afternoon - delivery before five. The envelope, that's gonna have money in it, and both myself and the recipient will know exactly how much is supposed to be in it.

[The implication being: if you skim off the top, you will get caught.]

[myownprice]

[Boba doesn’t even blink at the implicit warning. He’s never even opened one of the packages entrusted to him—when you provide an illicit service, a good reputation is the only way to reliably get work. Boba wouldn’t risk tarnishing his.]

How big is the box and where am I taking it? [he asks without missing a beat.]

[devoutish]

It'll be somewhere here, in the city.

[He won't give an exact address until an agreement's made.]

Have you got a bicycle?

[myownprice]

[The answer the man gives is useless—which is annoying, but not surprising. The question gets a shrug.]

No. I just use the subway or bus.

[He’s saving up for a hoverbike, though.]

How big is the box?

[devoutish]

Well, I was gonna say it's small enough to fit in a bike basket if you turn it on its end. But I suppose you can carry it. Might be a bit heavy.

[He holds out his hands, measuring out an imaginary box that's about one foot tall and two feet wide.]

pretend i listed a reasonable price for this transaction

[myownprice]

I can handle it.

[He should be able to fit it in his backpack. It’s one of the reasons he’s preferred as a courier—people see a 12-year old boy on public transit with a backpack slung over his shoulders and don’t think anything of it. After all, it’s much easier to believe he’s a student on his way to a lesson than to assume anything illicit is going on.]

The price is $◼◼, [Boba says, taking into account both the size of the packages and that they’ll be delivered within the city.] Upfront.

[devoutish]

Done.

[Alfie says easily. It's a good price, and while he's not opposed to haggling, he usually doesn't for something like this.

With anybody else, that might be where he ends things, but here he can't help but ask curiously:]

How did you get into this? Is it a family profession?

[myownprice]

[The question—the second one in particular—gets a faint hint of a smile from Boba as if he’s remembering some private joke.]

No. But my family is used to working for… [What’s a nice way to say “criminals?”] ...people who like things done discreetly.

[He’d leave it at that, but there’s part of his pride that chafes at having to do such menial work—and wants to hint at what he did before.] This is kind of a step down from my old job.

[devoutish]

Oh?

[Alfie raises his eyebrows. Please go on.]

[myownprice]

[Boba regards the man for a moment, trying to gauge how he might react. Boba has already told a few more powerful clients about his previous professional experience, hoping they might become interested in his skills as something more than a courier—but they hadn’t believed him. This man might not either.]

I was a bounty hunter before I came here, [Boba says, preparing for an incredulous response.] Like my father was before me.

[devoutish]

[Alfie is a little surprised, but the added bit about his dad makes him less so. He's assuming it's an apprenticeship type of situation, where his father does the real heavy lifting as he trains his son to one day take his place. The wording makes him pause a little - like his father was a bounty hunter, not is one? - but he'll leave that alone for now.]

I followed in my dad's footsteps, too. Not bounty hunters, mind, but the same side of the law.

[myownprice]

[When Alfie responds with neither horror or laughter, Boba seems surprised—and then relieved. He leans back in his seat, watching the man with more curiosity than suspicion now.]

What kind of work did your father do?

sorry for the slower replies! hiatus etc.

[devoutish]

Import, export. Protection services. That sort of thing.

[He levels a calm gaze at Boba. There are all, of course, carefully-picked euphemisms - and if the kid is as good as he thinks he might be, he expects him to pick up on that fact.]

np!

[myownprice]

[Boba hears those words and thinks smuggling and protection rackets. It’s not unexpected given what the man had said about being on the same side of the law and Boba's reaction shows no surprise.]

I see why you’d need a courier.

[devoutish]

And you see why someone of your age might be useful?

[myownprice]

[Boba nods.] That’s why most people hire me.

[He pauses for a moment.] That, and this. [Saying so, he rests a hand on the table and forms a fist. Then, he knocks sharply on the wood—or at least, that’s what he appears to be doing. Yet, for all that he’s clearly knocking on the table with enough force to produce a sound, the action is completely silent. The same will happen if Alfie attempts to knock on the table himself—so long as Boba is in contact with it, there is no sound.

Maybe it’s not the flashiest power, but the ability to be completely silent—and to extend that silence to anything he touches—is a valuable skill for any discreet courier.]