The unmarked police car slows and pulls to a stop in front of your bench, the heavy rain making twin cones of gold in the street ahead. The Dodge Charger Pursuit had become a pretty iconic sight in American and European cities over the years and this one wasn't trying terribly hard to remain anonymous. You knew next to nothing about cars, but you could see that this one had had some serious work done beyond the built-in lights and sirens.
A man steps out of the passenger seat, leaving the car running. He's about six feet tall and wearing a heavy black rain coat, but his posture screams cop. He takes a moment to survey the street (currently empty of anyone but the two of you) before crossing behind his vehicle and approaching you.
"You the Prodigal?"
Despite yourself, you grin. Bosworth may be shifty, but at least he had some sense of style. What kind of midnight rendezvous didn't have passwords?
"There are some who call me... Tim."
The cop snorts and gestures to the car.
"Alright kid, hop in and we'll go see the Lieutenant."
---
You've never been in a cop car before, but you're pretty impressed with this one. Armored, bullet proof glass, massive engine, and packing serious firepower. The officer, Michaels, had an assault rifle of some sort and several grenades mounted behind the passenger's seat in easy grabbing range for the driver. Your not entirely sure, but the space that should have been a backseat was partially taken up by what looked like a locker and probably had other weapons stashed inside.
New Dresda Police Headquarters was equally impressive. All thick stone and armored windows, with three officers "casually" hanging around in the motor pool area. "Casually" because they were all wearing body armor, had submachine guns close at hand, and were watching you like hawks.
You were starting to wonder what, exactly, Bosworth had gotten you into here. Even more so when the officers inside were similarly armed. You're fairly certain that even the military didn't wander around with enough firepower to start a war in their own building.
Officer Michaels led you into the bowels of the building with a minimal amount of red tape. You were expected, but they still needed him to fill check in and fill out some paperwork.They ignored your presence for the most part, and you were told in curt tones that the Lieutenant would answer your questions in a few minutes.
Despite what TV would lead you to believe, your meeting with the Lieutenant did not occur in a bare interrogation room with grim faced cops. Instead you were led to a tasteful office, greeted by the man himself, and offered coffee.
"So. You're the wizard Bosworth claims can solve all of our problems with the wave of his hand."
Erm.
"Relax kid, the man's a fink and we all know it. I'm not expecting the world here, just honest answers. My name is Lieutenant Alexander Harmon, what should I call you? We know you wizard types have a problem with real names and I can't just keep calling you the Prodigal eh?"
This wasn't how you imagined the conversation going. You had the mysterious wizard meets skeptical authority figure act all planned out and he wasn't playing by the script. This was a good opportunity to get back into the game though.
"My name is Tim, the Enchanter."
You give a little flourish, a half-bow-while-seated kind of thing. The Lieutenant just stares.
"Kid, that joke was old before you were born. I'm not going to call you that. How about something I can actually put on the books?"
Books?
"Books?"
Harmon snorts.
"Financial books. You DO want to get paid if you end up working for us right?"
Honestly being "paid" to do research and cast magic was a pretty foreign idea. You usually had to pay other people to let you do your work (Reagents, lab space, tuition, library fees, book trades... Ugh), not the other way around. You had half thought Bosworth might be kidding or mistaken with that one.
"How about David Constable Hartstone Chicago?"
"David Hart it is."
You pout. Slightly. That was a perfectly acceptable name!
"Alright Mr. Hart, let me tell you a bit about the New Dresda Metropolitan Police Department. We're mostly in charge of the shorefront districts. That's everything from uptown to the industrial docks and into the city proper, right up to the walls. We don't cover corptown, residential, or the industrial districts themselves. Any questions?"
"I don't actually know where an of the places you just mentioned are, I've only been in town for a couple hours. I haven't even been to this continent before that."
Lieutenant Harmon stares at you for a moment before pressing a button on his phone. (Interestingly it was a landline, you don't see those much any more. Like... ever.)
"Mary, could you do me a favor and pass down the word that I'd like to complicate the lives of a few of Mr. Bosworth's less reliable contacts? Apparently our little wizard has never set foot on the continent before today, let alone the city."
As someone, Mary you presume, hashes out a few details with Harmon you stew. Just because you were a bit young did not mean you were incompetent!
"Just because I'm young doesn't mean I'm incompetent!"
"Didn't say you were kid. Don't know you well enough to call that one way or another. Bosworth just gave me the impression that you were going to be a serious asset, and we really need that right now."
"I can be a serious asset Lieutenant. Maybe if you'd let me demonstrate instead of criticizing everything I say you might realize that."
Maybe a bit far, from the look on his face. But fuck it, you were one of the wise; a mage and a prodigy to boot! You weren't just going to roll over for the first person to offer you a job. You hadn't stood for it at school and you wouldn't stand for it here.
Silently, you and Lieutenant Harmon glare at each other for a minute. Finally he nods and gestures at you.
"Alright, fair enough. Impress me kid."
"Don't call me kid, I'm Mr. Hart now. I'm going to grab a knife out of my bag to demonstrate alright?
Always better to warn the guards when you were pulling out a weapon if you didn't have the intention to use it. You assumed the same went for cops. Harmon's eyebrows raise as you pull out the knife and a small steel block, though you don't know why. You hadn't even started yet.
"My main talent lies in Enchanting. Taking the mundane and using magic to make it better. This blade is supernaturally sharp."
You carve a corner off of the block without apparent effort and pass it to the Lieutenant for inspection.
"I usually use this one for lab work. It doesn't dull, but isn't terribly durable. You could bend it with your hands, as long as you didn't lose a finger or two in the process. Alternately, I could make it almost indestructible, it just wouldn't be nearly as sharp. My satchel has enchantments to that effect."
You calmly press the knife into your wrist, burying it to the hilt. The Lieutenant doesn't register what he's seeing for a moment, but gasps when he realizes exactly what you've done. Before he can do anything further you pull out the knife. There's no wound, and no blood.
"Its also enchanted to bring me no harm. Terribly useful when you've been up all night."
He looks impressed, you think, as you pass him the knife. He tests the edge lightly and it splits a few layers of skin. Satisfied, he carves a chunk off of his desk and passes it back.
"Very nice. You can do that with other objects, not just blades?"
"Yes, though results very with the item. I can't make an iron pipe cut steel for example (Yet, you think to yourself), but I could make it deliver enough force to crack it."
"Interesting. Anything else?"
"I'm good with the arcane arts, manipulation of raw magic and the like. Its kinda hard to display in practical terms without breaking something that took me a lot of time to make, but I can give you a light show at least."
You gather up some mana from the area around you and force it into existence above your palm. It appears as an angry violet color that seethes and roils. The Lieutenant looks interested, but you frown to yourself. That wasn't a good sign, something was seriously unbalancing the ether of this place. You dismiss it and make note to address the problem later.
"I also dabble a bit with the manipulation of fate, probabilities and the like, as well as some minor healing."
Your attempt to drop that last one casually is ineffective, as Lieutenant Harmon's eyes widen slightly. Healers were rare and highly sought after in the magic using community, and it looked like they weren't any less desirable here. Frankly you thought Fate was a much more useful school of magic but...
Harmon leans back in his chair and looks you over seriously. You keep quiet, suspecting that this "job" hinges on the next few moments. Finally, he nods.
"Well, that's good enough for now. I'm interested, and I am certain we could find a use for the talents you've mentioned if nothing else. You can consider yourself hired, providing you can deliver the kind of support you're imply on a consistent basis. We'll get the paperwork cleared away in the morning. Do you have a place to stay tonight? Bags that you need picked up?"
"Er, no. I pretty much just got in town and all of my stuff is on me."
"That's fine, we've got beds here for anyone that needs them. Lord knows I've used them enough. Any questions or comments before I let you go?"
"I..."
[-] Questions?
[-] Comments?
[-] Sleep?
(OOC: No familiar introductions just yet. Fae police don't do Good Cop / Bad Cop so much as Bloodthirsty Psychopath / Barely Interested Drama Queen Who Might Remember They Need You Intact If You Flatter Him Enough)