"Oh, I'm Sure. See You In The Parking Lot In Like Ten Minutes, Your Majesty."

"Oh, I'm sure. See you in the parking lot in like ten minutes, Your Majesty."

@doublejango

“Well well I’m impressed .. you want to fight me? You sure about that ?”

How Much of a Sinner Are You? It's so simple, so perfect. Blitz loves it.

Blitz's eyes widened, first when Lucifer practically undressed, and then again when he drew that flaming sword. Maybe that was the moment that the imp realized exactly what he was doing and who he was fighting, the moment it hit home that this being was so much more than Blitz could ever be, so far above his station that even looking at him was like a cockroach gazing up at the night sky and daring to dream...

But starlight shone equally upon palaces and gutters. Eyes were made to look and hearts to burn, and no matter how beautiful Lucifer Morningstar was, Blitz couldn't forgive him. Whatever happened after this, however quickly Lucifer might forget him, none of it mattered. The imp knew there was no getting out of this now--not that he wanted an escape. He didn't. He strode into this lot knowing full well that he was walking to his death, knowing full well he was leaving a life of friends and lovers behind--knowing that there was no turning back, not from some times. But all the same, seeing Lucifer like this? It was glorious. The king bared his chest, enough that what almost looked like fractures from a horrible scar were just visible. Although the flaming sword he bore was brilliant, Blitz almost felt like Lucifer's skin was all the more so. There was a softer radiance there, something pure--something that made the imp love him all the more fiercely.

And with Lucifer saying he would treat him fairly, fight him the way he would any other Hellborn? That love burned hotter, deeper, accompanied by a sense of gratitude so profound that it almost eased some of that pained fury. The words were a death sentence, but they were also a respect, something Blitz felt oddly grateful for.

"We're fighting for something, Your Fucking Royal Hotness. If I wound you? If you bleed from this," he ducked his head down, moving at a smooth, calculated pace, side-stepping around his opponent, "then you do something for me: you make life better for the Hellborn. I don't know how, I'm not a fucking Creator. But you know. You're a genius. You're an inventor. And you're a fucking father," he added, his voice breaking a little with grief, with love. "So you'll think of something. Put me in the fucking ground, I don't care. But if I make you bleed, you show up for the Hellborn. Love them. Be their advocate. Whatever it takes. Because their lives matter, even if mine doesn't." Because it didn't. He was here to throw it away, but God fucking damn it, Blitz was going to throw it away trying. Because he believed in Lucifer. He actually believed, crazy and stupid as that belief was, that this man could make things better. That he would honor the terms of a fight.

And so, trusting him, loving him, believing in him, Blitz dove in to try and kill him.

He rolled under the crackling, searing heat of that flaming sword, trying to come up with both knives, attacking again and again. Every time Lucifer parried, Blitz snarled, teeth bared. He could feel the heat of that infernal blade starting to overwhelm the small daggers in his hands, but it didn't matter.

All he had to do was cut him. If he could do that before his life was snuffed out, then everything would be worth it. Then maybe, maybe, there would never be another shattered Fizzarolli, or another young Blitzo being sold by his father. Maybe no more Hellhounds would end up in the fucking pound. Lucifer had the power. He had the creative genius. And if an imp's life could help buy the passion? Lucifer could make everything better.

To say Lucifer was surprised would be an understatement , he hasn’t accepted a challenge in over centuries , and then again an actual fight challenge hasn’t been issued for him in that long anyway.

Not since the early days of the established kingdom, back when he was a more benevolent tyrant King , and less the wild god that took his anger at the heavens out on everything that wasn’t his inner circle .

No back then he would take on challenges by anyone and anything it was fun for him, provided exercise and kept the sinners and rowdy hellborns in line , and it worked every win reinforced his might his right to rule .

And since then no sinner or even overlords dared to outright challenge him in over 10,0000 years .

Which is why it was a shock that one should come up now, that an Imp of all hellborns should have the balls to point a weapon at him.

He had to admire it , reminded him so much of himself back when he was younger , back when his anger had been at the heavens instead of himself.

Some might see it cruel and insecure he should accept a challenge by one so below him, but he saw it the opposite. He was treating the Imp as he would any Hellborn, or sinner or overlord .

Giving him equal treatment , he wanted to fight .. sure Lucifer wasn’t doing anything today .

He would give him a fight his surviving family would remember him by, he would reward the courage it took to challenge him throughly.

He stepped into the lot out of the large limo flanked by armed guards , something he didn’t think was needed but they insisted . How ironic his guards were Hellhounds .

They crossed their arms and glared at Blitzø , no doubt disproving the imps decision to fight their king .

Lucifer patted them on the back and made his was over the center of the empty lot, shrugging off his jacket and vest and hat , eyes glowing , he snapped them away no need to get them dirty .

Leaving him in an half unbutton dress shirt and his usual boots and pants , he spun his cane around Idly in his hand.

He was quiet listening to his accusations, accepting them.. yes his ideas might have gotten misconstrued , he had created the hirarchy as a means to protect his Hellborn but it had gotten away from him while he was wrapped up in his family.

“Technically Satan had a hand in that I just offered input and a bit of my magic to help him out ,” he chuckled.

“I won’t lie I did fail you a bit .. it wasn’t supposed to be like this .. not originally .. but the road to hell and all that .” He ignored his insult letting him get it out of his system .

“You are brave you know that no ones out right challenged me in eons .. I’ll reward that and respect you by giving you a full fight, you do deserve more so I’ll treat you as I treat any Hellborn or sinner or overlord ..” he gripped the end of his cane and let it slide, brandishing his sword .. the light around the area dimming in comparison as he gave it a swing a rolling wave of Hellfire circled the red eyed king .

“I’ll make this interesting , do you best to wound me, and I’ll tell you what you want to know but only for a bit then I Start hitting back”

Blitz is just over here watching the cucumber seduction and sipping at his coffee.

Starter for our beloved daddy hoot hoot, @stolas-arsgoetia-rp

-

"From what I understand," the smooth-voiced bastard purred, his taloned foot pressing down harder on Blitz's windpipe, "you don't have the... shall we say, protection? That you once enjoyed. Did you think, little imp, that the rest of us wouldn't notice? That we were unaware of what Stolas was doing?" One of the Goetia's toes curled in, digging the talon in harder against Blitz's throat; if the imp's skin weren't so tough, it would already have torn open, but it was already on the verge as it was.

Blitz's feet scrabbled uselessly against the ground, but his hands were both wrapped around Vepar's leg. Snarling, he squeezed as hard as he could--but he was learning. Fuck, he was learning. He knew now just how gentle Stolas had always been with him, how careful. The Goetia were Hellborn, but they were so far above the imps when it came to their powers, their strength, their resilience... If Stolas has wanted to, ever wanted to, he could have crushed Blitz like an insect and never needed to look back, and all of Blitz's strength would've been useless to stop him--just as it was now, barely enough to even slow this fucker down. Still, he wasn't going to give up. Snarling, he squeezed and twisted, digging his own claws in as hard as he could.

"Yeah, birdboy? You like watching, huh?" Blitz's eyes were half-lidded as he said it, his grin one of pure suggestion, despite the fact that he might well be fighting for his damned life here. "I never figured you for the type, but hey, what do I know? Those who can't, watch. Or something like that."

"It's those who can't do, teach," Vepar corrected in exasperation. He pushed harder, leaning into it. "What did Stolas see in you?"

That actually got through to Blitz, a question that touched on too damn much trauma--a question that immediately triggered the anger. "Maybe he liked someone else seeing him," he snapped, and he bucked as hard as he could--not to get this beautiful damn bird off of him, because that wasn't going to work, but to get his tail out from under himself. His tail, and the weapon clipped around the spade, which this arrogant fucking bird probably hadn't noticed.

Vepar laughed. His rich voice was so low and warm, but the laugh came out as a titter, light and airy and sweet.

Blitz hated it. Someone who was trying to fucking kill him shouldn't sound so sweet.

"What is there to look at, imp? As far as Goetia go, Prince Stolas really is rather plain. He's--" But whatever else the bird might have been about to say was choked off by a screech of shocked pain.

Blitz snarled, thrusting the blade in deeper to the man's thigh with every ounce of strength his damn tail possessed. And the second he felt the foot on his throat lose its grip, he twisted free, rolling away entirely from the beautiful monster. Now would be the time to run--but that would be the smart choice.

Blitz wasn't known for making those.

Vepar was gripping his leg, black blood pumping out and flowing down. He looked up in surprise and seemed to be about to say something--and Blitz bowled into him. This fucker had abducted him. Mocked him. Tried to kill him. Mocked Stolas. After how horrible the last few weeks had been since Verosika's party, low as Blitz's spirits were, worn down as his resilience was, he was done. Done, done, done, done....

-

It was early morning, just before the sky would begin to lighten towards its usual red, that Blitz came to. When he tried to sit up, his head and neck seemed to explode with pain, throbbing and stiff. Swearing under his breath, he pushed himself to a sitting position. His entire body hurt, it felt trashed, but he was alive. For a moment, he didn't understand why he hadn't expected to be alive...

But then he saw the feathers.

Beautiful iridescent blue-green feathers, strewn across a marble floor. Blood everywhere. Some of that had to be Blitz's, he was torn to shreds, but more of is, so much more, had to belong to the Goetia laying there...

Motionless.

Blitz's eyes widened and everything in him went still. He stared, willing the man to move, to breathe--but he didn't. After long minutes passed, each an eternity, Blitz finally started to crawl towards him. The blood under his hands was cold, sticky, half-dry. The feathers stuck to him. He was vaguely aware of his own wounds, gouges and lacerations all over him, but he couldn't stop to think about them. He had to know...

Hand trembling, he reached out and rested it on Vepar's chest--and immediately covered his mouth with his other hand, to keep in his horrified cursing. Vepar was cold. There was no life in that body. No life, no movement, nothing. He was cold and dead.

Don't panic. Don't fucking panic. You just... you just murdered a fucking Duke or whatever the fuck he was, you just murdered a Goetia, it's fine. It's fine. It's fine... don't... just... just keep your shit together. He was going to be fucking executed for this. He--fuck. Fuck. Blitz started digging through Vepar's feathers. He didn't remember how the fight ended, but it obviously had ended, and it had been his victory, and--

There.

Buried in the Goetia's stomach. A glittering angelic-steel blade, of sorts. A beautifully filigreed spade-cap, made to clip around the end of his tail, deadly-sharp on both sides... and it had gone up through the Goetia's belly and into his heart.

With shaking hands and huge eyes, Blitz pulled it out. He put it back on, not wanting to carry it. The Duke's blood, dripping from it, weighed it down more than ever. Fuck, it was a newer weapon to him, but it was so light, and he had only just started wearing it and--when did I do this? When did I kill him? HOW? How...?

"Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me." Blitz got to his feet, shaking. Hating this. He remembered taunting the fucker, remembered the start of the fight...

A sharp sound made him jump, then swear. It sounded like pots and pans were starting to be clattered in the kitchen. Of course. This fucker probably had staff. They were going to get up for the day and fucking, and fucking find him.

Blitz smashed through the nearest window without a second thought.

-

He should have gone home. He really, really should have gone fucking home. He meant to go home. But home was so far away, and when he passed by Stolas's palace, the familiar longing, the ache of the lost happiness, the realization that after this shit, he was never going to get to see him again because there was no way these fuckers weren't going to find him...

Blitz climbed the fence. It didn't matter that his wounds were starting to ache, that he could feel slit flesh gaping open. It didn't matter that his hands felt cold and numb, or that his tail still felt strange and heavy with the weight of the life he had taken. He just needed to see Stolas one more time. And given how early it was, Stolas was probably still asleep. Which meant as long as Blitz was quiet, as long as he just perched on the balcony railing and watched, maybe he could get a few minutes of pretending before everything fell apart.

He wasn't particularly graceful, but he made it up to the balcony off Stolas's bedroom and hunched there, like the worst sort of gargoyle, looking in at the darkened space. He didn't even know if Stolas was in there, but all the same, just being here... it felt... It felt like... Fuck. Blitz swallowed down the rising tide of emotion.

Just a few minutes. Just a few minutes, and then he would go.

"Somewhere safe. Now shut up and don't wiggle." As Blitz ran, a few quiet little pffft sounds whizzed by them in the air. Someone was taking shots at this Lucifer, or Not-Lucifer, or whatever the guy was. He looked so damn similar, but he, he--fuck, whatever was going on here, Blitz didn't want to think about it. He just needed to get this fucker safe if he was going to fulfill his contract.

Fuck, he hated bodyguarding.

As soon as they made it to the van, he leapt through the window with him. Shoving Lucid down to the floorboards, Blitz quickly moved over and got the engine started. "Stay down. Keep your head down. Someone wants you dead, and if I keep your ass alive, my rent gets paid." The tires squealed as he slammed on the gas, and the windshield shattered into a cascade of little square chunks of glass. This time, the shot actually found a mark though--Blitz. He swore, gripped at his shoulder--and quickly jerked the wheel, pulling the van back into his lane. Fuck, fuck, he really, really hated bodyguarding.

"Stay down, fucker! Just stay down!" he snapped, whether or not Lucid was actually staying down. "Any idea who the fuck it is that might want you dead?"

Cont. xxx)

Throw him over shoulder and run away with him? - @doublejango

“Ah! Hello friend. What can I do for y- EEP!” Blitzo has successfully acquired the seraph! His actions confuse Lucid. It is very effective~. “I did not know you guys were so strong?! …Where are we going?”