Jet waited for an answer in the alleyway, trying to think of a way to get out of this mess without being cursed. Unfortunately, supernatural problems couldn't be solved by just running away from them. In fact, it tended to make things worse.
Much, much worse.
Finally, an answer came in the form of a rough voice. "Jet Flynn."
"Yes?" Jet asked, smiling at the same time as he rose one of his eyebrows in question. "That's me."
And on second thought, perhaps he shouldn't have mentioned that.
Idiot.
The man stepped out of the shadows and his form seemed to solidify, but Jet still couldn't make out any features. He didn't know if that was because there were no features to make out, or because he just didn't have any magic.
"My name is Dmitri Sorokin. I work for Libra Detective Agency." the man's deep voice claimed. For a second, Jet thought he could see a pair of shining red eyes where the man's face was, but they were gone as soon as they appeared. Jet stopped smiling for the first time since initiating conversation with the man and took a weary step back.
He narrowed his eyes at the man wearing ridiculous clothes. "I hope you're not here to arrest me?"
"No." the man shook his head in denial. "I am here with a job offer."
"Ooh?" Jet took a step forward before he could stop himself and smiled, amused. "Really? What kind of job is it? Nothing illegal, I should hope."
"Of course not." the man sounded honestly offended, amusingly enough. "We have been watching you for months and have decided that your services would be helpful during our investigations. A fortune-teller as skilled as you would have been very useful in a lot of our past cases."
Jet couldn't stop himself from letting out a puff of amused laughter. "I'm sorry, are you actually serious?"
"Yes." though he couldn't see it, he got the impression the man was frowning at him.
"Why?" asked Jet, honestly curious despite the fact that he knew he should get away from this situation before the man realized he was just a con-artist. And frankly, not the best one. He had a remarkable tendency to not get monetary payment from his targets.
On the other hand, a couple of hotels let him stay there for free whenever he wanted.
Which was generally when he couldn't pay his rent and needed to avoid his landlord until he got the money.
Yeah... not his best memories.
"You are gifted." Dmitri answered, as if it was truly that simple. The only gift Jet had was bullshitting with a straight face.
"You know," Jet said abruptly, repositioning himself so that he was leaning against the alley wall. "I've heard some interesting rumors about your so-called detective agency. Some say you're the creme of the crop, elites who never fail to save the day. Others say you're a band of lunatics, outcasts that have rejected by society and claim vengeance in the form of manufactured justice."
"Your point being?"
Jet smiled at the man and asked, "What do you think? What's the core of the Libra Detective Agency?"
"We only investigate crimes where magic has played a part, either directly or because it involved nonhumans." the man stated, sounding frustrated and annoyed at the same time. "Our goal is to ensure that the peace remains between the various magical races, and humans, at all costs."
"A noble goal." Jet nodded and his smile grew bigger on his face. "Why should I care?"
"You are a soothsayer. Is it not in your best interest to keep the peace?" the man sounded bewildered that he could even think otherwise.
Jet shrugged his shoulders and conceded, "Maybe."
"So you will accept the offer?" now the man was back to sounding annoyed again.
"No." Jet smiled and pushed off from the wall as he started to leave. "I'm quite happy with my lot in life, thank you. If you really need a fortune-teller, find somebody else." Maybe, you know, a real one? Just a suggestion.
Well, he didn't say that, because he wasn't stupid, but really, you'd think actual magical beings would be able to tell the difference between educated guessing and real fortune-telling. There were real fortune-tellers, soothsayers, even seers and oracles out there. Even in this city. So it begged the question of who would think of hiring him? He had pissed off his fair share of people when he had first started out, before he learned how to tell apart humans and nonhumans, especially when the difference was subtle, so the boss of an detective agency should be able to figure it out just by asking around. It wouldn't even take long, Jet had scammed a lot of people in his days.
Before he could leave the alleyway and forget this conversation ever happened, a rough voice rose from behind him. "There is nobody else."
"Excuse me?" Jet twirled around on his feet and stared at the man. "What do you mean there is nobody else? I know of a dozen good fortune-tellers in this city alone."
And they were real ones, too.
He heard the man breathe out deeply before he said, "They have all refused our offer."
"Why?" Jet asked, before he shook his head and said, "Wait, no, let me guess. Something is coming, something bad is going to happen. Something really, really bad, and nobody wants to be around your precious agency when it does. Does that sound about right? I assume that Libra Detective Agency is at the center of this coming disaster, and that's the true reason you're so desperate to find a fortune-teller to hire. You want to, what, find a way to put a stop to it before it happens? Classic hero stuff? Save the day at the last minute?"
Annoyed, the man snapped, "We would like to say the day, as you say, well before the last minute."
"Well. Good luck with that." Jet said, and turned to begin walking away again.
"Wait." came from behind, in a voice that was suddenly tired. This man was very quick to emotions, wasn't he? They seemed to change at the drop of a hat. "What do you want? Name it, and if it's within our power to grant, we'll give it you."
Once more, Jet turned around. He started to feel like he should be getting dizzy from all of the spinning he was doing today. "You can't actually be serious, can you?"
"One-hundred percent."
"No." Jet shook his head in denial. "You can't be. Who would be stupid enough to make that kind of offer? Especially to someone like me?"
From his voice, the man was frowning again when he stated, "There is nothin wrong with offering you this."
"If you've really been watching me for months, as you claim, then you'd know I tend to... let's say, take advantage of opportunities presented to me. Why would you risk me asking for something more then you can give?" Jet asked, honestly confused as to the reason. It seemed like pure idiocy to him.
The man simply answered, "Because we're desperate."
Jet let his eyes look over the man with consideration and tilted his head in thought. They really must be desperate if they were making that kind of offer to him, knowing full well his personality. Then again, maybe they didn't know. Maybe they hadn't been watching him at all and were just bluffing. It was annoyingly hard to tell when there was no face for him to judge for tells and a trench-coat that hid the man's body.
Still, that begged the question, why would they bluff? Why go through all of this trouble to convince him? To what, work for them? What exactly would he be doing if he took the offer? Bring them coffee? Read their fortunes? Give them advice on their poor life-choices?
Was he supposed to hold their hand and tell them everything would be okay, if only they got the courage to take the initiative?
Somehow, he didn't think that was it.
"Yeah, no." Jet said and shook his head. "I work best on my own. Mystical energies and auras and all that, you know."
"Please." the man gritted out between his teeth.
Letting his smile finally leave his face, Jet rose an eyebrow and demanded, "Give me one good reason that I should join your shady agency, that may or many not exist. I haven't even seen any proof that you are who you claim yet."
One of the man's hands reached into his trench-coat and threw something at him. Jet caught the wallet that came flying at him and opened it, curious. There was a fancy looking silver badge sewed into the inside of the wallet, looking like a cross between a skull and a pentagon. On the ID, it said his name was Dmitri Mikhailovich Sorokin and there was even a picture of his face.
Sadly, there was no mention of his species.
He was handsome, Jet grudgingly had to admit. Short black hair, black eyes, a strong jaw and a straight nose. He looked good enough to be a movie star. Or maybe a rock star. At the very least, it was a stark contrast to his own annoyingly bright red hair.
Then again, that helped sell the idea that he wasn't completely and utterly human, as there was still a bunch of old superstitions about red hair hanging around. Since some supernatural races could literally smell it if you dyed your hair, that was never a good idea, especially when trying to scam them. If that happened, getting his face mauled off would be the least of his problems.
"Okay, so I believe you work for Libra. Now give me a reason I should too." Jet said and threw the black leather wallet back.
"Saving the world." the man promptly said.
Jet just smiled at him. "I'm too selfish to agree to that."
Frustrated, the man said, "It is a noble cause. The whole world will owe you for saving it."
"Mitya." Jet began and when the man twitched in what was undeniably annoyance, Jet grinned at him. "I'm not going to lie to you. I'm not a very good person. I'm selfish, and I do things only if they will directly help me. So tell me, how would joining this agency help me?"
"You live on this earth too. If it were to be destroyed, you would die as well." the man — Mitya — stated.
Jet grinned wider. "Still not good enough."
In his irritation, Mitya seemed to solidify further, until he could almost make out his facial shape. "There are numerous advantages to the whole world owing you, even for someone as selfish as you claim to be."
"A reason, if you please?" Jet drawled out, watching amusedly as the man twitched again. For all that he couldn't make out his face, he was very expressive.
"Once the catastrophe has been cleared, you will receive ten million dollars. How is that for a reason?" Mitya snapped at him.
"And the monthly salary until that happens? I assume you don't know how close it is." Jet asked stated.
The man practically hissed out, "Three thousand dollars a month."
This time, Jet's smile was completely genuine.
"You have a deal."
"Good." the man nodded to himself. "I will show you the way to our offices. Follow me."
Jet rose an eyebrow, but did as the man said. He was reasonably certain that he could read the man well enough to be sure he wasn't about to be kidnapped, and the badge had had a gleam to it he only saw on real ones.
"You know," he started as he walked by the man's side through the alleyway, back the way he came from. "you should have just started by mentioning the money. This would have gone so much faster in that case."
He was pretty sure he heard the man sigh in annoyance.
Rude.