Mithias dropped down to his knees. He had just watched Bob kill himself and it was a lot more painful and horrible to witness than he had anticipated. He mourned his lost self that he could not save. Tears were shed, but Mithias comforted himself with the understanding that it would have been worse had he chosen the other side. He'd have lost Bob and possibly even more of his friends down the road. It is what had to be. Still, it was hard to endure.
As Bob appeared beside him, Mithias felt the tension. He contained within himself the potential to become a jackass like Alucard and might therefore also be a threat to Bob and his family. Was Bob also going to kill him? Mithias was upset enough not to care. "He's wrong about me, Bob. I don't follow ideals, I follow my heart." Mithias got up and walked over to the desk. He looked at the contract, then at Bob questioningly. It was clear that Bob would kill him if he didn't agree to keep this event secret, and for understandable reasons, simply trusting Mithias to keep his mouth shut was not enough to satisfy the demigod.
Mithias looked back at the contract, distracted by the scent he unfortunately knew. He sniffed and wiped his eyes on his arm as he gathered his wits. "Orphans, Bob? Really? Ugh." He sighed heavily. The contract read clear and simple, just as Bob had stated. "And I get to keep my life in return then? ... Very well." He took hold of the pen and leaned his hips against the desk as he lowered his hand. "My soul is destined to become yours, Keeper. Guard it well."
"Mithias Aldaric Varomere." Written in stylized flourish.
"If Alucard *is* anything like me, you'll find him very good at grovelling." Mithias tossed the pen across the desk. He looked back at Bob with a look that said, "Now do you trust me?"
As Bob appeared beside him, Mithias felt the tension. He contained within himself the potential to become a jackass like Alucard and might therefore also be a threat to Bob and his family. Was Bob also going to kill him? Mithias was upset enough not to care. "He's wrong about me, Bob. I don't follow ideals, I follow my heart." Mithias got up and walked over to the desk. He looked at the contract, then at Bob questioningly. It was clear that Bob would kill him if he didn't agree to keep this event secret, and for understandable reasons, simply trusting Mithias to keep his mouth shut was not enough to satisfy the demigod.
Mithias looked back at the contract, distracted by the scent he unfortunately knew. He sniffed and wiped his eyes on his arm as he gathered his wits. "Orphans, Bob? Really? Ugh." He sighed heavily. The contract read clear and simple, just as Bob had stated. "And I get to keep my life in return then? ... Very well." He took hold of the pen and leaned his hips against the desk as he lowered his hand. "My soul is destined to become yours, Keeper. Guard it well."
"Mithias Aldaric Varomere." Written in stylized flourish.
"If Alucard *is* anything like me, you'll find him very good at grovelling." Mithias tossed the pen across the desk. He looked back at Bob with a look that said, "Now do you trust me?"