"Yeah?" Blitz Smirked. "How's That Working Out For Ya? Pretty Shitty If You Ask Me. Because Here I Am,

"Yeah?" Blitz smirked. "How's that working out for ya? Pretty shitty if you ask me. Because here I am, making your night one hell of a lot worse." Pleased with himself, he toasted the bastard with his sickly sweet and definitely faked Val Venom, grinned, and knocked the booze back. It made him cough, which was a little embarrassing, but what did it matter? People didn't come here because they had self-respect.

"So." He tried to avoid the stickiest part of the seat. "Since you're a complete failure when it comes to drinking alone, and since I'm a tenacious prick who loves watching people fail even harder... What do you say we finish these drinks, go outside, and fight? Or, shit. You seem kind of hot. Something about this whole vibe you've got going on. You want to get fucked into the ground? Maybe a wall? Or you the kinda guy who wants someone to pretend to be in love with them so that the fucking doesn't feel like objectification? Because," shit, was he slurring his words a little? That Venom liquor was strong. What was he saying? Blitzo held up a finger, which would clearly help make his point. "Fuck that noise. I'm not down. Just good, clean, honest fucking, til you can't stand anymore.

"Beat each other to pulp, winner tops?"

Going to a shitty bar to get shitty alcohol wasn't Adam's idea of fun, generally speaking, but it wasn't like he really had options at the moment. The only money he had gotten had been yoinked from sinners too stupid to approach him, and he couldn't go find something actually fun to do without drawing unwanted attention.

He had tried. Got into a fight against some hellhound at a party that left him irritated and wanting to forget that he was stuck in this shithole of a realm. To save his pride - and keep himself on the down low - he had been forced to come here and shove himself into a corner booth. It was sticky, smelled like shit, and didn't make him feel any better, but at least he got to drink.

It would have almost maybe been fine if some strange little fuck didn't decide to come join him without prompting.

"Are you fucking serious, dude?" He had zero interest in conversation, especially with someone who started off the interaction with an insult. "I'm trying to have a drink. By myself."

Rewatched 'Western Energy' and I was thinking Blitz sure would have left in that same van they rushed Stolas to the hospital in, huh?

"Oh, uh. Thanks," Blitzo said, trying not to look or sound too skeptical as this person helped him up off the ground. Just because he'd been kicked out of a passing van didn't mean he needed help, did it? But he didn't want to be rude...

Well, no. He did kind of want to be rude, because he was cranky, but that wasn't this little guy's fault.

The imp let go of the stranger's hand as quickly as he could once on his feet, then brushed himself off and pulled some wet newspaper off of his head. He made a face and tossed it aside, then looked back at the guy helping him out--and grinned.

"Well you're a cutie. Nice cosplay, by the way. Lucifer, am I right? Does the big guy know there's someone out here dressed up like him? I actually already have a home here, but hey, if you're offering someplace to crash, I could stand to lie low for a few days."

"Welcome! Make yourself at home because you're about to spend eternity here!"

Sure, he was the "devil" but he didn't seem to bad right?

"Here, let me help you up!" Lucifer offered a hand, grin creeping up on his face.

Blitz was looking down as Fizzarolli rightfully called him out on just diving into emotional things, and so he saw the tail. He listened to every word, and each of them found their mark, little thorns that dug in towards the heart. He heard, but what he saw, what he understood, was Fizz's tail. Wrapped up around his feet, just like he always did as a child when he was uncomfortable, when he was unsure.

How much courage must it take, how much kindness, for Fizz to be able to say he wanted to be friends, when he clearly didn't even want to be in this conversation? But he did say it, and those words hit harder than all the read. Blitzo looked up again, meeting his eyes. For once, he himself was without his mask: he didn't look smug, he didn't look like he was about to say something crude. He didn't look full of shit. Blitzo looked sincere and open--vulnerable, maybe.

"I want to make it work too, man. Like... I really want that. A lot. You were maybe the best part of my life, you know? And then I fucked it up. And I keep fucking it up and don't deserve to be in your life. But... however we can make this work? Let's try." Easier said than done, he knew. He scratched at a horn uncomfortably, looking down again. "Not that I uh, know how to start. I don't really... um... do things with people anymore. Friend things. Anything emotional, really." Fuck, this hurt to admit. It was humiliating, and he damn well wouldn't tell anyone else any of this. Only Fizz. He owed Fizz his honesty, his vulnerability.

"I don't really know how to do this? But I want to learn. So if you... I mean, you and Ozzy are in love, right? So maybe you can tell me. How the fuck does someone just... make things work with another person? Not because they have to, but because they want to?" Blitzo's golden eyes were wide, although still downcast; how did adults with a lifetime of baggage between them even begin a friendship?

Fizz just arched a brow at Blitz's comment about sparkles. "I mean sure. Those fits perfectly in performances, brings much more color in them" he replied, still wondering why Blitz was acting so weird. The more he kept throwing questions and such at the jester, he just stood there with rather confused expression on his fac. Which soon was repliced by a wince. Indeed why did he bring up Fizz's body. Sure he had kinda used to it since his fans were one of the dedicated weirdos in all across hell, but the fact that Mammon was brought along.. Fizz couldn't help but to look down quickly before fixing his eye contact with Blitz again.

He didn't look fat right? Mammon had ruined his body image forever and Fizz didn't do well if anyone ever said anything out loud. And then it all took even more weird turn. Blitz said a thing Fizz didn't want to hear. I mean he did but still did not! Miss him? A feeling that Fizz had during their time apart. Of course he also felt betrayed by his childhood best friend, and how much it hurt for not being able to see him. It all made Fizz so bitter, and the fact that he still couldn't just forget, to let go!

Fizz curled his palms into fists, taking a deep inhale before letting it out again. "You can't just dump things on someone like that" the usual happy smiling Fizz was suddenly all so serious. All this was just a huge mess which was not easy to untangle. Their history together did not go hand-in-hand on how things were in this current time line, at least not for Fizz.

There was a silence between the two, Fizz looked away as he wrapped tail around his feet, something he had always done when he felt uncomfortable. "I miss you too. And the old times when things were bit more-... you know not so difficult and weird between us" at least for Fizz the time in the Imp Circus was one of the best times in his life. Sure because he got to perform to people but also he had met Blitz. All the shit they did together it was something he still cherished for the day.

"But...I'm willing to still be friends with you-... only if it's ok with you. To make it work! For both of us!"

for @moonlightsdew -- okay, this is probably going to end in tears, buuuuut... starter for Adam! Because Adam and Blitzo? What could possibly go wrong!

After a thoroughly shitty week at I.M.P, Blitzo was done. He was done, he was cranky, and while he probably could just go hide at home, drink, and not worry about anything, he wasn't in the mood for that. (Anymore. He had definitely gotten a start on the booze and, unfortunately, didn't let anyone know he was going out). Why worry? Everything was garbage. Life was pointless when you were just born to be an evil waste of space, and Stolas didn't love him, and Fizzie was so strong and good but not by choice, and Moxxie and Millie were just too precious for Hell and--

Why sit at home and cry when you could go out on the streets and cause problems on purpose?

Which was exactly what he was doing. But after picking a series of fights, he knew he was too sober: he won the fights and was able to walk away. He definitely needed to find some shitty little dark hole to hide in where he could get drunk enough to get his ass kicked, because this wasn't working. So, a little bruised and battered but unfortunately no worse for the wear, feeling bitchy and pissy and sorry for himself, Blitzo stalked into a sad little drinking den. Definitely not a speakeasy--those tended to have some level of class--this was the kind of place one never took their friends to, and sure as fuck didn't admit to knowing about--a place for losers and monsters.

And right now, he felt like both.

After getting a shot of some crappy liquor claiming to 'taste just like Valentino's Venom!', because who didn't want to suck moth face, the imp went over to one of the two sticky, cramped, pathetic little booths in the corner. There was another guy there, someone just radiating leave-me-alone energy, or so Blitzo interpreted him... which meant he absolutely had to fuck with him.

"You look like you suck," he said, sliding in to sit across from Adam. Er, attempting to slide. "Fuck, why are these seats so sticky?"

Blitzo hadn't entirely been listening as Moxxie rambled on. His eyes had gone half-closed and he'd sort of slumped over into a more comfortable--if undignified--lean. He enjoyed the sound of Moxxie's voice. Even as shrill as it could sometimes get, there was something perpetually reassuring about Moxxie. The more he babbled on, the better things usually were.

And so at that sudden mid-sentence silence? Blitzo's eyes had opened wide and he had frozen, spray paint in one hand, going just as perfectly still as Moxxie was--

Until Moxxie spat it out. A spider? Huh. Blitzo turned his face up and grinned at the spider. "Fuck, Moxxie, inside voices, huh?

"A brown recluse? Is that even an okay thing to say? Sounds a little racist if you ask me. Really, Mox, you gotta come up with better names for these things. Like, this could be a Betty. Don't you think? She looks like a Betty. Actually--yeah. I've dated a Betty. And she does look just like them." As he chatted, he reached up and took hold of the spider's silk thread, breaking it. As the spider dangled, he held the strand of silk carefully, trying not to jostle her. Easy enough to just crush a spider, but fuck. She was alive, wasn't she? Why take that away? Wasn't like they were getting paid for it, and she wasn't some awful human--just some terrifying monster, ugly to most, born into a role she didn't ask for and couldn't change.

Not that Blitzo empathized. Really. Pffff....

With more care than he usually bothered to show to anyone--at all, ever--Blitzo put the spider on one of the nearby shelves, settling her down on a coil of rope.

"There you go, pretty. Fuck off." He brushed his hands off and settled back into where he'd been sitting, then looked over at Moxxie with the kind of grin that promised he was about to be insufferable. While he could say something sincere, like "you're right, there are better games to play; we played the Truth side of Truth or Dare way too much that time we were drugged," he went with:

"I spy, with my little eye, an imp who loooooves me. Don't even deny it, Moxxie. You love me. You don't want me to get bitten by a spider. You know what? Sometimes, I think I see what Millie sees in you."

After their target went down without a hitch, it had been nice to see that the resort was full of what appeared to be harmless, happy sinners. Some maybe even future ‘winners.’ And their children. Moxxie could never bring himself to think of human children as sinners or winners. But the imps had to hide. Lest they be thrown around again or mistaken for aliens or woodland critters.

Blitzo’s words interrupted Moxxie’s introspection. He stopped clicking the fidget toy he had and pocketed it, not wanting to annoy his boss with the sound.

“A g-game? Oh, to pass the time? Right– Not a bad idea. Ha,” he kept his worries about what might be the hold up with the portal to himself. With Millie out sick today his usual emotional support anchor was not there. He had to self-regulate.

“Maybe not so much…Truth or Dare, though,” he gestured. “Don’t think there’s much we can dare each other to do in our situation anyways. Something like ‘I Spy’ or ‘Would You Rather’? You know, um. Less action –” he froze, petrified in what looked like abject terror.

The little spider lowering itself on a web just above Blitzo seemed to cause Moxxie to lock up.

“Blitz– Be Careful!! It might be a BROWN RECLUSE!” he whispered. Or attempted to whisper. It was one of those attempts that ended up making the speaker louder than their usual voice. And with Moxxie’s already boyish timbre, he was practically squeaking. He was not scampering away though, instead gesturing above Blitzo’s head frantically so Blitzo could see. With Blitzo in danger of being bit, he would not disappear. Not yet, anyways. As soon as that particular spider was gone, that was a different story.