In Terms Of Time, How Much Time Exactly Does Blitz Spend Stalking The M&Ms? What Has He Seen? What Does

In terms of time, how much time exactly does Blitz spend stalking the M&Ms? What has he seen? What does he know?

Not much anymore. Earlier on, like an hour a week, easily. But he has come to accept that yes, they really are that in love and that happy, and yes, that's what love is actually supposed to look like: people accepting each other fully, in every way, working through their issues with good communication, always having each other's backs, multiple kinds of passion.

He didn't use to believe it. Blitz had never actually been part of a healthy, loving relationship for very long--not a romantic one, not a platonic one, and not even a familial one. No matter how much he loved his mother, Cash's manipulations tainted his childhood in ways Blitz will never forgive.

What he and Fizzarolli had when they were young comes closest, and Blitz will always be in love with him, but he and Fizz were also always in survival mode. Their home-lives weren't stable. Fizz didn't have any support he could take for granted, which is one of the most important forms generational wealth and a sense of security can take, and Blitz just... well. His father sold him in plenty of ways. Blitz knew he wasn't safe. He absolutely wasn't okay. The two of them loved each other fiercely and had each other's backs, but every day was a new test of survival, a new set of dangers to be worried about. Because they were always in Survival Mode, and the fire ended their relationship so young, they never developed or matured into anything else.

So, real love? In any form? Seeing it in Moxxie and Millie... that was fascinating for a long time. But it wasn't even just that, because there was one more facet to the stalking, something even Blitz knew was unhealthy but couldn't stop, because he was too fucking terrified not to do it:

He needed to protect them. He needed to know they were safe.

He could go for days without checking up on them after work, but eventually, the anxiety would wake up and get too strong, and he'd need to know they were okay, that the world wasn't going to rip them away just because he loves them.

Blitz kept the piece of the chandelier. He stole it back out of the bag of loot, hid it away, and has had it ever since. He took it out and thought about that day all the time, even if he couldn't admit to himself that it meant something.

Or everything.

He still has it now, after Apology Tour.

For the first time, looking at it hurts.

Gives Blitzø one (1) Bryer horse Model.

For a moment, all Blitz could do was stare--not at the toy horse, but at Him. Lucifer. It obviously wasn't uncommon in the least for people to bump into their rulers here in Hell, but there was always, always going to be something special about Lucifer, something that made him stand out... and something that made Blitz want to fight him. To knock him down and punch him and ask Why? Why, why, why, why, why the fuck did you DO this to us?

But Blitz wasn't stupid. He couldn't do that. He wouldn't. And Lucifer--fuck. There was kindness in his eyes, and giving him the horse... Blitz finally looked down at it, then slowly wrapped his claws fully around the horse and held it against his chest.

He looked back at Lucifer, intending to thank him, but no words came. Instead, all the imp could do in that moment was look at him. Look into him, almost, eyes wide, body still, even his tail still.

“Hey killer!”

Roth shouted down the street as he hurried to catch Blitz. The grinning sinner catches his breath, then walks in stride with Blitz.

It was always nice to see a familiar face.

“Keeping busy? Got anymore “dead weight” to dump anywhere?”

The reminder of how they met left Blitz grinning, a dark and dangerous edge to it with just how much the memory delighted him. He offered Roth his arm, glad as ever to see him, and chuckled before taking a sip of his Starbucks--which didn't have any kind of clever pun of a name, the company was exactly the same in Hell as it was on Earth.

"Not anymore. And for what it's worth, that was a favor for a client. Not my usual kind of gig, but for the right price, I'm down to do shit that I.M.P doesn't usually offer. How about you? You doin' good these days? Staying one step ahead of the shadows? And, y'know, speaking of shit I'd do for special clients--if you ever need anything? Just let me know, yeah?" Not that he was especially attached to Roth, of course. Not at all. Ha. It wasn't like Blitz loved his goddamn new friend way too much and knew it. It sure wasn't like one fateful night had brought this fucker into his life and changed the tone of every night and day to follow, adding just a little more warmth, a little more color into Blitz's world.

Yeah. He'd do just about anything for Roth and he knew it. And if one day, some favor for this guy got him killed? Blitz didn't want to die anytime soon, but if he died helping out a friend? Fucking worth it. Of course, he couldn't tell Roth any of this, couldn't explain how much he cared. He didn't have the words, and right now, he wasn't sure he had the courage--he didn't want to scare the guy off. Making friends was hard in Hell, but fuck, when a good one came along? They were worth fighting for.

for @zephosthefaedemon who liked a starter call ten years ago--

-

"...in your realm," the client was saying. There was laughter in his dark eyes--blacker than black--and his entire demeanor seemed almost too languorous, but there was an edge to everything about him. He lounged on the chair as if it were the throne, and something about the way he held his head seemed to hint at a crown--as if he were used to never letting something slip.

Blitz wasn't sure what to make of him, but the money was real enough. The guy had brought an iron ball-bearing, which seemed to hurt him to hold, and had put it atop the money as if that was some sort of purity test. Whatever that was about, Blitz took it at face value.

"I mean, what you're asking, it's not really what I do," the imp said, after a long silence, and he pushed the money back towards him. "What are you even asking? You want me to kidnap someone for you? Cause, you know, you're kind of giving off that kind of vibe, Cardenas."

"Cardan," the client corrected, lips quirking in amusement. "And no. As I said. It is simply an unusual situation. Find her. See that she is doing well."

Blitz raised an eyebrow, leaned back, and folded his arms. "Hate to break it to you, bud, but people don't usually do all that well in Hell. It's kind of the, you know, whole fucking point."

The client stood. "They fare little better in my realm. You need not abduct her--on the contrary, I will be cross if you harm her--but I do want you to find her. Observe her. If she is suffering unduly, you may tell me."

"Oh yeah? And how am I gonna do that, you gonna leave a, fucking, leave a phone number, or..." Blitz snorted when the stranger set down a little gold locket. "Right. Jewelry. Are we besties now? Cause I've already got a bestie, and--"

"I will hear, if you speak to me through that. Thank you, Imp. Your services will doubtless prove to be worth every penny." With a smirk, the stranger twirled his hand in a lazy fashion as he opened a portal. Blitz caught a glimpse of a bizarre realm beyond, a place that looked too alive, the exact damned opposite of Hell, but then the stranger was gone and the portal closed.

What the fuck even was today.

He groaned, leaned his head back over the chair, and huffed.

Right. Well. Fuck it. He'd find this Zephos chick, eventually.

-

A few months had passed since then, business hectic, personal life a shambles, before Blitz heard someone mention that weird hybrid's name and he remembered. Right. Right. He was supposed to be looking for her. So, finally, he set out to do just that. And, at the end of a very long day, he knocked on the door of the place she was allegedly staying.

"Avon Falling," he sang out, although he had the sneaking suspicion he had gotten the phrase wrong.