"These terms look acceptable to me. I shall sign."<br/><br/>Cyanide picks a blade up and plunges it into her palm, barely managing to pierce her tough (yet smooth) skin. Blue, almost acidic blood slowly seeps out, and drips into one of the inkwells. She dips a quill in, then signs her name, Cyanide Zerath, on the contract. The blood dries instantly, almost burning itself to the parchment. Now, nothing can revoke the terms - until she completes their assignment and collects her souls, she's on the plane to stay. Likewise, she feels compelled to follow her side of the bargain, but has no qualms with this anyway.