from what i've tasted of desire [w/ ares]

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[attr="class","lyrics"]Never be ashamed, my love,
all hearts are open graves

[attr="class","postcontent"] He may have been an ice type, but the voice that he heard made his fur prickle and stand on its end, at least around his collar. He let out another growl; blue eyes taking a look at an eyesore of black and orange. While he did not have a personal vendetta against the Houndoom species in general, this one, in particular, made his blood boil...if that was even possible. But perhaps that wasn't quite the right way to describe his feelings for him; it felt like a poor generalization of the weight on his chest, yet now was not the time to ponder on such things. He was at work, and he would think of work, no matter the unfortunate Pokemon he had to face.

"You might be right, but constantly killing off protege isn't good for work either." he would reply, disgruntedly used to the other's lack of manners. The ice type would furrow his brows at the mock invitation of talking about it, and while he was thinking about complaining about it a little more, the Houndoom's sneer shifted his frustration to a different target. "So as not to leave the question hanging, it is none of your concern, though you already knew that. If however, it turns out the problem produces a target, I may ask for your services."

That was, after all, the Houndoom's specialty. He witnessed it firsthand all those years ago, and he would be lying if it did not spark a murmur of fear to be so close to the flames. Lucky that for now, the other was more of an ally than a threat, but Samuel knew that it was naive of him to think that was set in stone. The Alolan Ninetales would shift through some papers on his desk; a bit difficult with paws, but it didn't take long for him to find what he was looking for: a contract file slightly buried under other things. "Preferably I would like for you to "clean up" clients instead of members, but I suppose it is something unavoidable." he would push the paper across the desk to where the Houndoom could see. "Loan collection. This Nuzleaf hasn't been paying his dues and also has been avoiding the mafia. I'll let you decide if you wish to ransack his house--" he would use a claw to delicately point at the printed font, "address is over here, or if you want to track him. List of recent sightings from the past week is over here."

He paused for a moment, trying to recall if any other details were attached to this contract. It was fairly large, he did recall, but nothing from an affluent family or anything, so it would not attract much attention. "I would want him alive. Dead targets can't pay, after all. Questions?"

@ares