Is it Worth a Soul?

Amaimon looks at her and tilts his head. "Miss, if you're parents aren't alive right in front of you, I'll return your soul and become your personal errand boy, as long as you'll live."
 
Tinker gave him a disgruntled look. "Seriously, why are you obsessed with the parent thing?" She turned back to the banister. "Not everyone who loses a loved one desperately wants them back, you know. You're going to have to try broadening your horizons a little." She shot him a quick smirk. "Although having a personal errand boy isn't such a bad thought."
 
Amaimon smiled. "So, I'll be your errand boy, and you'll give me your soul. It's a deal, then?" He holds out his right hand.
 
Amaimon looks at her. "Hm. A demon prince who has destroyed empires and overlords as an errand boy? I suppose that wouldn't be quite fair."
 
"So you say," Tinker shrugged, still working. "Demon lord or not, right now you are nothing more than a pain in my butt doing some rather pathetic groveling for a nobody's soul. I think you need to go back to negotiations and trades school, or whatever demons have."
 
Amaimon smiles. "If I did the math right, you, my friend, are my four hundred thousandth client."
 
Tinker glanced down at him, only briefly pausing in her work. "Really? Well, they do say there's an idiot born every minute, so I suppose that is not unreasonable."
 
Amaimon laughs. "All right, I'll give that one to you. You're pretty smart, and it doesn't take a genius to say that."
 
"Because it does not look like it. You are still holding the piece I gave you without doing anything with it. A smart demon would be impressing me with how awesome he is, don't you think?" Tinker suggested as she turned back to her work.
 
Amaimon snaps his fingers. "Done." When she turns around, all the steps are sanded except for the one Tinker is on
 
Tinker examined the work critically. "Hmm... Alright, this is good work, I will give you that," she admitted, "but I would have been far more impressed with hands-on work than a magic snap of the fingers. I mean, how hard was that, maybe the difficulty of snapping a finger? Not much to admire there, but perhaps you can try again with the landing up there." She pointed up the stairs. "Let's see you match this level of work with real elbow-grease." She shot him another smirk. "If you are capable, of course."
 
Tinker snorted as she kept working. "Please. No work is free, and you standing around yammering at me certainly isn't free. If you can't do it, you can just say so instead of accusing me of trying to manipulate you. There's no shame in not knowing how to do something."
 
After about 30 minutes, Amaimon calls, "I'm done." The sanding is magnificently done, and Amaimon is slightly out of breath.
 
Tinker had finished her part some time ago, and now she traipsed up to see his work. "Wow, this is actually pretty good!" she praised, nodding as she looked around. "Are you sure you want to be a demon stealing souls? You'd make a fantastic restorer."
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Back
Top