ArchivedLogs:Sales Pitch

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Sales Pitch
Dramatis Personae

Iolaus, Rasheed

2013-03-07


The doctors talk shop. Iolaus makes an offer.

Location

<NYC> Lower East Side


Historically characterized by crime and immigrant families crammed into cramped tenement buildings, the Lower East Side is often identified with its working-class roots. Today, it plays host to many of New York's mutant poor, although even here they are still often forced into hiding.

It is mid-afternoon when Iolaus and Rasheed are supposed to meet. He's dressed rather casually, in a pair of blue jeans and a long sleeved shirt. Standing a foot or so away from him is a rather short looking man, similarly dressed. This other man is not exceptionally pretty - far from it - his face looks like it has missed few of the branches on the ugly tree and is littered with thick scars. His eyes continually scan the area, glancing this way and that. Behind the two of them is a fence, boarded up and branded with a construction companies logo. Construction crews roam inside, removing the last few bits of the previous building.

Rasheed is rather casual today, too. Khakis, dark sweater over a pale button-down, dark coat. He pulls up in a cab near enough to the appointed time, taking a moment to swipe his credit card and pay for the ride before slipping out. His hands rub briskly together when he is out in the chill afternoon, and slip into his coat pockets soon after. "Hello." He offers Iolaus a curt nod, Iolaus's companion a curt nod. "So. This is it." It's bland. Thoughtful. The construction only gets a cursory look, Iolaus a longer one.

Iolaus nods, glancing behind him to look at the literal hole in the ground. "It will be, eventually." he says, turning and smiling at Rasheed. "When it's finished. Until then, it's just a... pit." A thoughtful pause, and his smile widens wickedly. "Still, if nothing else, it certainly looks a lot better than the building that was there before." he says, turning back to face Rasheed.

"What /was/ there before, I can't quite recall what this part of the neighborhood was even much like. It looks --" Rasheed's eyes sweep the building's around them, his smile a little quick twitch that fades soon. "Charming. Though, likely slightly less chance of getting mugged than at the neighborhood of my clinic." He steps closer to the fence, standing on Iolaus's other side with shoulders slouching and his eyes turned towards the construction. "Excited?"

"Perhaps. We're both in good neighborhoods for our different clients, though. And, we got lucky - the building was two steps away from condemned, so we got it on the cheap." Iolaus says, and the excitement is plain in his voice. "Very. Standing here, seeing it start to come together... it makes it feel all that much more real. Not just a dream anymore." he says, eyes twinkling.

"Not just a dream," Rasheed acknowledges. "Nervous?" is his next question. "Have you celebrated, yet?" His hands lift from his pockets, spreading to indicate the unbuilding in front of them. "It seems like you have a lot of reason. How long do you predict construction is going to take? I'm unfamiliar with all -- this. We just bought a building that was already reasonably suitable and renovated it somewhat."

Iolaus shrugs his shoulders. "I'm not sure. My architect is managing all of that in cooperation with the construction firm. Six, eight, twelve months? We've got our hands full until then. I'm hoping that we have all the other issues resolved by then." When Rasheed's hand remove from their pockets, the man standing near Iolaus tenses for a moment, then relaxes once more. Iolaus does not seem to notice as he goes on. "The licenses and all that. We've been having little celebrations as we go. I'm planning a larger one for the staff when we break ground for the first time. This is all still demolition."

Rasheed does notice, glancing towards the other man with a lift of brows. "Had problems?" He wants to know, sounding more surprised than anything else. "I haven't seen press about this yet. Will there be, for the ground-breaking? That would be a --" He looks back to the construction, again. "Historic event."

"We are trying to keep below the radar for as long as possible, but I think the time is now measured in weeks, not months, before we have to make a public announcement. Our medical license application has hit some snags, and I suspect it will get leaked when we start pushing back hard on it." Iolaus explains, a frown tugging slightly at the edges of his smile. "The groundbreaking would certainly be a good time to do it. We will see if we can hold out that long."

"Good luck," Rasheed says, softer. "When do you start seriously recruiting staff? Not till the building is near completion, I'd imagine. But it might be, ah." His arms fold across his chest, fingers drumming in the crook of one elbow. "A task. Given the difficulties."

Iolaus winces, slightly, glancing around the street as if watching for enemies. "We've already started. We're signing staff to retainer agreements if they're not working now. Pay them token amount of money a month just to keep agreeing to sign on full when we are preparing to open. It's been difficult to find even non-medical staff, never the less doctors and nurses." He sighs, looking up at the other doctor. "If you have any referrals, I'd appreciate it very much."

Rasheed considers this with a slight frown. "There are volunteers at my clinic who I know would treat your clientele with the appropriate respect," he says, slowly, "but nobody at my clinic /specializes/ in this sort of medicine. Then again, I imagine few anywhere do." His fingers drum at the inside of his arm again. "I could offer you some names," he decides at length, and his eyes slant sideways to Iolaus as another smile twitches at his lips. "But you'd have to promise me their schedules would allow them to keep their shifts. Luring doctors to my clinic with the promise of violent clientele and no /pay/ is a challenge enough already."

"No one, anywhere, does. Not clinically. Research, there are few enough." Iolaus pauses, a slight smile on his face. "Two people that I know of, and I'm one of them." He shrugs his shoulders and tilts his head to the side. "I can certainly make sure that they have enough free time to spend it however they choose." he says, eyes twinkling mischievously. "And I can assure you, I have no wish to make my clinic on the back of yours."

"It would be a small back to stand on," Rasheed says, amused, "for a venture like yours. Your project is far more ambitious, even in scope, let alone in mission. It must be exciting," he says, a little more wistfully. "Not just a new project like this. But the opportunity to make such strides in a largely unexplored realm of medicine."

"It's very exciting." Iolaus says, voice bright and eyes sparkling. "The new project, getting it off of the ground... and the medicine as well. Even the few cases with mutants that I have had are all very complex and very... fascinating." his eyes trace the other man's face for several moments. "You sound like you wish you were involved."

"It sounds it." Rasheed mostly looks thoughtful, a slow smile hooking up at his lips at Iolaus's excitement. "Oh, maybe I just miss the excitement," he says, with a quiet laugh, "starting a new thing. Wanting to change the world." His head tips downward, studying his shoes. "Actually having a shot at changing the world. It's not an opportunity many get so clearly."

"It is not too late." Iolaus says, softly, tempting. "My staff has plenty of open positions." his eyes sparkle, a smile quirking at his lips. "Vastly less profitable than your current position, I'm sure, and it's hardly your own practice with your own patients. But..." he gives a little shrug of his shoulders. "Keep it in the back of your mind. If you are interested in interviewing, you know how you can reach me."

"I do," Rasheed says, and his smile is a little crooked. "Ten years ago I would have been all over a project like this." There's a pause. Maybe he has more to say. But it doesn't come, for a while, just watching the construction contemplatively. "It's silly," he says abruptly, "isn't it? The things we worry about. Maybe ten years ago I was a smarter man."

Iolaus chuckles and he turns to look down towards the pit, at the union workers below. "Several of my professors have commented that they thought I was smarter than this. One of their best students, and now I throw my career away." He gives a soft, wry chuckle. "Maybe several years ago I was too young and smart to do it." He turns and looks over Rasheed's face. "Maybe you are more cautious now. Maybe you just need to leap."

"If you measure success in money they're probably correct," Rasheed says, a hint of amusement in his voice. It fades, though, back to quiet contemplation. "I started my clinic because this city had so many underserved. I thought I could do some good, bringing medicine to -- well. I didn't really imagine how much the world would have changed in just a decade." His habitual slouch is growing slouchier. He leans against the fence, resting a hand against one of the boards. "I suppose you may well need a /range/ of specialists on board." This is said as much to the fence as to Iolaus, quiet and still thoughtful. His head turns to look at the younger doctor, regarding him seriously. "Does it scare you?"

"Very much so. The clinic will take all kinds of specialists, and more on retainer than I have on staff, I'm sure." Iolaus says. He does not answer the other man's question for several seconds, though his eyes meet the older man's. "Every day when I wake up, and every night when I go to sleep." He smiles, but it is a sad looking thing. "If you asked me when I was in school if I thought my medical degree would mean I would need to have a bodyguard 'round the clock, I would have laughed in your face and referred you to a detox center."

Rasheed meets Iolaus's gaze steadily, watching him with the same serious expression through this answer. He doesn't smile. He just nods, once. "I'd think you a lot more crazy if you'd given me a different answer," he admits. And then a long stretch of silence. He watches Iolaus's face. He watches the construction. He winces, letting his head thump down against the board, too. "I'd be crazy to say yes, wouldn't I."

"Probably. There aren't enough bodyguards to go around," Iolaus says, his eyes twinkling. "Though I doubt that anyone else will be directly attacked. Indirectly, perhaps." His hand rises and he gently claps Rasheed on the back, hand pausing there for several seconds before he lets it drop back down to his side. "You don't have to decide now, Rasheed. There is much to do before we can see patients. When the building is built... then you can decide if you want to leave your well-paying, self-managed job for one which is far more dangerous, will pay far worse, and is liable to ruin whatever positive reputation you have." This last is said with a warm smile.

Rasheed's shoulders rise, fall again heavily with a short breath. "There is a while to decide," he says, perhaps reminding himself of this fact. He turns, to give a rather crooked smile to Iolaus. "You sell yourself /so well/." Straightening, he claps Iolaus on the back in return. "Have you had lunch? There's a great Afghan place. My treat," he says, and his amusement is a dry thing, "since you're the one /already/ signed up to make yourself a pauper."

Iolaus laughs and nods. "Please. I try to just think of it as a return to my roots," he says, with a playful wink. "No, I haven't had lunch. Is it within walking distance, or should we head towards the subway? Or a cab, I suppose, if you're feeling extra generous." His tone is light and teasing, and he glances backwards towards the construction once more.

"We can get a cab. You -- and I say this from experience," Rasheed heads towards the sidewalk, glancing one way and the other up the street, "are going to become an /expert/ in relying on other people's generosity."

Iolaus' eyes twinkle and he nods, stepping forward towards the sidewalk. As he walks after Rasheed, the man who has been quietly looking and watching the two men follows close by Iolaus. "I'm sure I will." The younger doctor says, with a smile, as a cab pulls up to let them in and take them onwards, to lunch.