Karito chuckled, his eyes glinting red for a moment before returning to their earthen brown. "No. You didn't leave the door open. I was merely passing by." he straightens and smirks a little. "Oh, simply something that rolls off the tongue. I can stop if you want me too. Now. About why I'm here. I am a reaper. A bored one at that. And I'm looking for a few jobs. So if you'd like me to take that job, I can do that for you." He adjusts his sleeves and glances at Jackson. "So what do you say?"
'Passing by doesn't explain why you're in my house…' he thought to himself, though he didn't utter this out loud. Though he didn't have much of an objection to Karito calling him 'darling' he spoke against it anyway. "One, don't call me darling, and two, if you wish to kill them, that'd be great 'Mr. Reaper'" he said, waving his hand as if to dismiss the man. Jackson has noticed the red glint in Karito's eyes, though he decided to pass it off as just the light.
He smiled at the other and leaned back. "Alright, duly noted. Now. As for killing them, that comes with a contract and you have to be the one wishing death to them." He shrugged a bit, his scythe appearing in his hands. A katana, lined with gold. "So. What do you say? Care to make a deal?" He smirked at the other and placing a hand on his hip as he watched the male with curiosity. Such a small human. An underappreciated artist.
"Contract?" he inquired. "Might I see said contract?" Jackson was quite unsure of what this "contract" was possibly going to get him into, so he wanted to know first. After all, it's not all that wise to go a sign a contract that was proposed by a man you just met who has a katana, claims to be a reaper, and is agreeing to murder for you. Just a little weird if you had asked Jackson.
"Basically, I am under your service." He says, humming with thought. "You have to live with the guilt of taking a humans life, however. You don't need to give me anything in reply. Just that." He smirked at the other. "Here it is." He pulls a paper out of his pocket, listing what he can and cannot do. There were no loopholes, no fine print. He settled down into a chair and brushed some of his hair back.
Jackson nodded slowly and read over the contract, front and back, being extra sure that there was nothing he could have possibly missed. After doing so, he looked over at Karito and raised an eyebrow. "But I have a question for you," he began, rolling up the contract, "what if I don't feel this guilt you talk about?"
Karito shrugged. "Then you don't feel the guilt. I can be whatever you need me to be. A mercinary, a killer, a guardian. Just, please for the love of death. I am so bored." He sighed and crossed his legs prettily, a small smile on his lips. "The other reapers have no idea what the meaning of fun is. They're so boring." He sighed and glances at Jackson. "I'm sorry, but I never caught your name."
Jackson took in the information, nodding slowly. He began stretching as he went back to the stool in front of his unfinished painting. "Hmm. I see," he mumbled, then continuing on to speak louder. "My name is Jackson," he said in an increased volume. He unrolled the contract in his hand and placed it against his lap where his legs were slightly exposed. He read over it one last time, making sure he had left absolutely no detail unviewed. Once he did, he looked back at Karito with a slightly uninterested look. "And I guess I'll agree to your little contract."
(( I am so so sorry for disappearing from notebook. I was going through an absolute nightmare, but I'm better now, and I'm here. If you'd like to continue that is.))
(Sure, I'd like to continue, though there's no need to apologize! Take care of yourself, hon. Everything else comes later.)
((Thank you for your patience and understanding ^^))
Karito nods at Jackson stating his name, leaning back in his chair and smiling as he waited patiently. "Sounds wonderful. All I need you to do is sign the paper." He hummed as he adjusts his sword and glances around. "After that I need names of the people I'm supposed to kill." He coos, flipping his hair over his shoulder.
Jackson slowly nodded and carefully signed the manilla paper. He questioned the legitimacy of the so-called reaper as his hand scrawled his signature. Once he finished, he lifted his hand from the paper and handed it to the reaper with a scrutinizing look. He decided to start carefully with one name, just to test it.
"Evie Crickard," he spat, "I want her dead. She's a nuisance."
Karito watches as he writes his name, humming in satisfaction. He nods as he takes the paper back, tucking it away. He licked his lips as he heard the name. He bows ever so slightly. "Done." With that, he disappears in a puff of smoke.
About an hour later, he returned, a small smirk on his lips. "Taken care of." He coos happily. A simple heart attack. Nothing too suspicious. He could have had her run over by a car, but that would have taken the fun our of watching her panic on the side of a road as her heart failed her.
