This choice: has been taking care of the bodies, and wants payment. • Go Back...Chapter #5has been taking care of the bodies, and wants p... by: Unknown "Y've been snatchin' bonces fer how long now? An'n all that time y' neer wondered where the tarts' bodies went? Just assumed they vanished, did ye?" Lynne asked, her psychic tone both accusatory and condescending.
"I mean... some of them ended up in the neighboring towns. That's how I've kept my cover." The Collector said, twitching a shoulder up at the sign designating her seat as a bodies only seat.
"Eight percent, yeah." Lynne replied, which sounded a little low to The Collector but she didn't have any data to counter that assertion. "The other ninety two percent? Guild's bin holdin' onto'em."
"...Why?" The Collector asked, genuinely not comprehending why anyone would want to have a bunch of stupid mindless bodies knocking around. Heads she could understand, but bodies? They were just vehicles for heads, as far as The Collector was concerned.
"Fer safe keepin', you psycho!" Lynne answered, disgusted. "You honestly just left there bodies out in th' woods to wander off'n die? What's wrong with you?!"
"If you had such a big problem with what I was doing, why did you only come to stop me now?!" The Collector shot back, throwing her arms in the air before she could stop herself. Luckily, none of the other passengers had been watching, but she had to be more careful if she wanted to keep up the subterfuge.
"Bureaucracy." Caleb cut in, placing a firm hand on Lynne's shoulder as he tried to calm his partner. "Magic's no toy, 's a reality breakin' force that can wipe out all life everywhere a million times over. So the Guild is slow t' act, wants'a make sure everythin' 's in place an' properly documented b'fore 't makes a move. But... we're here now."
"Yeah." Lynne said, bitterly brushing her partner's hand away. "T' give ye' a slap on'th wrist n' a parkin' ticket."
"I... what?" The Collector asked, lost.
"Yeah, so the Guid's of th' opinion yer not a threat t' global stability or th' cosmic balance'v good n' evil or nuthin' grandiose like that. Yer just an arse an' a pervert." Caleb said, both offending and relieving The Collector. "As such, they feel strippin' yer magic or killin' you'd be drastic as a first resorst. So they've sent us t' collect a fine 'fer all th' work we've been doin' collectin an' keepin' the bodies safe."
"A fine? Like, money?" The Collector asked, confused as to what a magical order of wizards could possibly want something as trivial as money for.
"Wizards pay rent to." Caleb said, shrugging. "So if you'd just cut us a cheque fer eighty two million four hundred thirty one thousand three hundred and twelve pounds and sixteen pence, we'll be on our way."
The Collector would've done a spit take, had she a mouth. "EIGHTY TWO MILLION?!"
"Four hundred thirty one thousaand three hundred and twelve pounds and sixteen pence, yes." Caleb replied, nodding nonchalantly. "Y'know how much storage space a couple hundred bodies takes up? Loads."
"I don't have that kind of money!" The Collector complained. While she made some money wearing certain heads for jobs, and could transmute enough lead into gold to make ends meet, her schedule was so packed and her money spread between so many accounts to avoid tracing that she never had more than a few thousand readily available to her at any given time.
"I had a hunch you'd say somefin' like that. Don't much look like the fiscally responsible type." Caleb said, nodding to his now grinning partner.
"So what happens now?" You ask, already planning your escape.
"Now?" Lynne answered, out loud in a menacing whisper...  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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