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All the loose ends here are wrapped up, so there's no real reason to stick around. You guess you could set a fire, but you really don't feel like bothering that much.
You kind of regret how things turned out with you, a little. You couldn't really help it, though. As a being of instinctive malevolence, you don't really play well with others. Even if 'others' are you. Your current summoner, even. Swell guy, as far as you can tell. Managed to set up a quick set of guidelines to the contract that get what he wants done, given conditions, and still leaves you leeway to play around a little. You still want to screw him over as horribly as possible, after all.
Well, it isn't to say that you can never get along with yourself, either. There's times when you're just in a really good mood on both sides of things, and matters... click. You can get along like a house on fire, then!
Like lots of houses on fire. Like people running and screaming and crying, and the king's armies marching in to form a line around the town in order to prevent any of your cultist thralls from escaping and infecting the rest of the countriside as they launch giant pots of burning oil from catapults at you to burn out the rot before it spreads.
Yeah, that was an incredible weekend. You're really looking forward to doing it all again, but should probably keep putting it off until the time seems right.
Well, not like the bitch is going to do you any favors and slit her own throat, might as well earn your delicious reward. You stroll right through the front door like you own the place, and the wards don't so much as blink at you. Or they wouldn't, if they had eyes. They dont respond, in any case.
It's not hard to find the Stocker woman, she looks bedraggled in a small writing office, books scattered in stacks around her and papers strewn across her desk as she drinks something from a small vial. Steam shoots out of her ears, but she seems to rapidly lose her sluggishness and become more aware of her surroundings. Some kind of energy drink, for the magical sort.
Her eyes turn to you.
"... Aren't you supposed to already be...?" She says, confusion swiftly turning to alarm in her eyes as her sentence trails off. She twitches her wand in your direction, first syllable of some spell or another on her lips.
The edge of the cleaver has already met her wrist, and the hand it was attached to spins off to the side, wand still firmly grasped in it as the blade thunks solidly into the wood of the desk.
"... Ah-!" she says, clutching the bleeding stump in some alarm. Doesn't seem like an incantation, but you can't take any risks. You backhand her as hard as you can, and there's a satisfying noise of something cracking in her jaw. Blood is dribbling down her face, and you think that's a tooth that just fell to the ground.
You punch her in the face a few times, just to be sure she can't so much as gurgle, and that she's in too much pain to focus her thoughts enough to cast, if that's a thing she can do. Now... let's see. Plenty of time before she'll be missed, but unfortunately, she seems to have a fairly tight grip on her own soul. You can coax it out of her, certainly, but you'll start to run risks of being found, and while you don't mind adding to the body count, it would probably be inadvisable.
Doesn't mean you can't play around a bit before you finish the job.
There's a spark of ill-disguised horror and disgust her eyes as you grab great handfuls of the robes she's wearing, and shred them.
Not much longer after that, there's nothing in those sockets at all. Her struggles, pathetic as they are, continue for a good while after, though.
By the time you're finished, and in a much better mood, there's very little left to distinguish who and what exactly that corpse once was. You lick your hands clean of the blood, before turning, thinking to grab those papers and... do something with them, you aren't sure what, but maybe you could angle it to get a reward from Patchouli. Doubtful, unless you showed up with the unique notes actually in hand, and even then it probably won't be anything fun. Vexing woman. All of those backups and corrolaries and clauses to keep her entirely immune from anything you might want to do under any conditions, and yet she never takes advantage of them. It's incredibly frustrating. You've tried forcing the issue, of course, through various means, but that never turns out well for you. You've just ended up being forced to accept that while she might go in for a bit of murder now and again, her sex life seems to be as empty and boring as a thrice-looted pantry after a zombie outbreak.
No matter. Ah, and you're mistaken. Not a corpse yet, still breathing slightly. You go ahead and stomp at its skull a few times. More an act of mercy than anything else at this point, which is kind of annoying, but contract dictations and all. Now, the papers...
... You're calmly tucking them away into a carrying case, and turn to wave from the window.
"Sorry, love. The one that summoned me has a really specific interest in these!" You say cheerily, hopping backwards and out through the window. "Ta~"
.... How annoying.
Well, the destruction or securing of those papers weren't actually a part of your contract anyway, so it's no issue. You head back, after disguising yourself a little again, and make your way to the agreed upon point.
Your price is waiting there, having been cleaned properly and arrayed on sacrifical beddings. Ah, how delicious. The ones you rejected are gone, of course, as is the summoner, with no trace to show where they went off to aside from a ward that fizzled out the second you arrived, seeming only to be notification that you had arrived.
You claim your reward, but there's no reason to hurry things along. You employ a bit of trickery, charming the girl into compliance, and using her efforts to seduce the boy, before you dismiss your hold on her right as things begin.
She's terribly confused, the poor dear, but a hand on her mouth keeps her silent as the boy groans, learning the intimate pleasures to be found in the fairer gender.
He doesn't understand what's happened when you release the girl and let her start sobbing.
That was all quite some time ago, of course, and by now their eyes are both a little blank as they enjoy each other intimately, delighting in your inclusion, and you can claim their souls as your own at any time. They quite simply belong to you, in every way, and even if you let them be they would spend their lives trying to find you and give themselves to you once more~
.... That owl looks rather put off by the debauchery. It's been here for a while, and seems to have a letter, though. Is it for you...? Well, it couldn't really be otherwise, right? You take it.
... It notes that an anonymous tip has been delivered to the Aurors, of a woman with long red hair entering this house, carrying a pair of struggling sacks. Then it erupts into blue fire, and disappears without so much as leaving ash behind. The owl is already long gone, or you'd be tempted to incinerate it in similar fashion.
Aurors... those are the magical law officials around here, you recall? Then you're about to have a number of wizards coming down on your head.
A sharp series of cracks interrupts your thoughts, even as your adorable little toys continue to play with each other, ignoring their surroundings for the sake of fulfillment that doesn't quite arrive save with your touch.
Correction, then. You have a number of wizards surrounding the area. At least half a dozen, judging by the teleporting noises. One or two, you definitely think you could handle without much trouble, probably. That many, though...
Well, you'll have to decide what to do now very quickly. You don't doubt that the summoner sent that 'tip' either personally, or through a close proxy, the bastard. Probably had intended for them to crack down on you shortly after delivering it, with the letter only giving you just enough time to realize you didn't have the time to actually claim your reward before they got here, only the wheels of bureaucracy tangled matters. Well, it would have been a clever enough double cross if not for that. You shouldn't rely on third parties to handle your betrayals, dear~
[ ] What do you do?