Blitzo lit up a cigarette and lied back on Stolas' bed, sighing in aggravation and wearing only underpants.
"Blitzy. A little help, please?" Stolas asked next to him, his mouth gagged and hands tied way up.
"Yeah, yeah. I got ya." Blitzo burned the ropes off and the prince's mouth was free.
"Once again, I'm sorry for having to move our little rendezvous early." Stolas cheekily apologized, giving an upside down smile and went to put on his robe. "See, I'm scheduled for an engagement this month on the full moon." When he saw one of the most important events that required his presence was fast approaching, Stolas knew he couldn't complete his responsibilities without his spell book.
Which came as a huge inconvenience to Blitzo.
"When you call me here, I don't make a fuss." Blitzo gave his smoke to him as butler imps went about their business, "But, do you really need the grim-thingy for this whole farm celebration bullshit? Fifteen new clients are waiting for heads to roll." he complained. I.M.P's been keeping a steady streak of successful kills and satisfied customers, so it really irked Blitzo that Stolas picked now to put a halt to that.
Stolas inwardly chuckled at Blitzo's narrow-minded view. "Now, now, Blitzy. My grimoire is an important relic.'' He puts the cigarette out by pressing it on Blitzo's horn, further annoying him. "And it isn't supposed to be lent out to itty-bitty imps like yourself." he playfully teased, pinching Blitzo's cheek, voice dripped with baby talk. Blitzo shoved him away with revulsion, the owl demon always thinks he's been cute with that sort of flirty talk, but from another point of view, it's a royal talking down at an imp. A constant reminder of their difference in the hierarchy. "The Harvest Moon Festival is a very special occasion, after all! As one of the Goetia demons, it has been my annual duty to showcase it in the Ring of Wrath. It's celebrated by a very charming little festival with the locals." It was always such a humorous treat to watch Wrath imps entertain him with all their fun little games.
"Wrath, huh?" Blitzo rubbed his chin in some remembrance. One time, when he was there, it was for horse riding lessons after stealing his then-girlfriend's car to drive there in the first place, using that very same flame's-who's now his ex-girlfriend's-credit cards to pay for them. It was what he felt should've been done after leaving her to pay for the hotel room. Best to not maybe share that with...whatever Stolas is that, so he went full-on lying. "My employees are from there." Millie liked to talk about growing up on her family's ranch. "Never went there, I only hear it's full of inbred chucklefucks."
Stolas lights up with an idea. "Oh! Why don't you all join me at the festival? I can guarantee..." he tried to persuade with four very lidded eyes. "...special access." he giggles, hoping Blitzo will accept.
Blitzo wasn't so taken with the idea, seeing as this could end in another Loo Loo Land fiasco, and wanted to spell it out that killing folks was their thing, not protecting them. "Look, I told you before, we're not bodyguards, okay? That was a one-time thing and it ended badly. Even if I did end up taking out that crappy robot."
Stolas' personal servant was waiting by the door and he kept trying to convince Blitzo that it wouldn't be so bad, tilting his head like a typical owl. "I'm simply offering a work-free day of fun!" Granted, Wrath was infamous for being a land of fighting obsessed imps, but when the festival is held, things are dialed back, by just a little bit. "I feel quite safe at the Harvest Festival. It's the same every year." he then brought up another point. "Once more, think how good an opportunity this could be for young Lincoln. By my count, the only other ring he's gone to would be Greed, why not show the lad more of Hell's magnificent sights?"
Fun at a festival could also be good to quench the inner problems going on with that boy.
Blitzo thought it over and as much as he was loathe to admit it, a day off not only sounded sweet, but being personally invited by the owl of the hour would be hard to say no to, it was actually kind of sweet of Stolas to go through such lengths to spoil Blitzo and by extension, his staff. "Well, only if this isn't some fuckfest invite, it does sound like it could be a blast and a half." he begrudgingly conceded, though still showing bitterness over their usual plans getting uprooted. "And like I said, we can't do jack shit without your book anyway."
Stolas made faux sounds of being regretful while still using the baby talk.
"Aw, I'm sowwy your clients will wait it out."
"Oh, fuck my clients. I'm complaining about not getting paid for a while." Blitzo dismissed with a wave.
Outside the Goetia manor, Blitzo strolled outside fully clothed followed by Stolas in his robe. Blitzo looked back at the mansion. The fact that he was invited back here was enough to incite rounds of laughter among any crowd of demons as there was no chance in any plane of existence that the lowest class of demons actually managed to get attention like that. To be allowed to roam the halls of a place where royalty lives was a true privilege and a non-employee imp doing so was truly something many would find ridiculous. Despite all the odds, Blitzo managed to pull it off, but he didn't do it so he could boast about to every demon around, the aim was always about having free use of a valuable book of ancient Goetia magic to start up his company.
"I'm glad you accepted my offer." Stolas said.
Blitzo shrugged. "Eh, when you're not killing people, you need to find something else to do. You know what other good can come out of this? Finally getting the intern to actually cut loose for a change. He's been up for some nights, studying all those nerdy magic books you got for him, practicing runes. It's like he doesn't know when to just take it easy."
"Well, that should be expected. Especially for one of my students." Stolas counters in defense of the boy. "He is trying to find a way back home, in case you forgot."
"Believe me, it's hard to forget when he keeps on talking about it day in and day out." Blitzo reached in his pants and found his phone. "Anyway, guess I should round up the fam, get this road trip started already." he walked out where his van was waiting.
"What's the matter, Blitzy? Did I wear you too much?" Stolas taunted.
"Bitch, please. This number one boss can go on for hours. But, if this harvest festival crap is that big a deal, then there's really no point in distracting you. I just care more that the sooner this is done, the sooner I get that book back." Blitz shrugged, starting the car's engine.
"My, my. How considerate of you." Stolas smirks.
"Don't read into it." Blitzo didn't need to be patronized, least of all, Stolas of all demons. "Just don't go trying anything, alright? And maybe a better heads up next time you pick up the book. Running an assassination company is more difficult than you'd think. It almost makes me regret ever establishing it. Almost."
Due to the sudden stop of I.M.P's jobs, Moxxie and Millie, the lovable married assassins found more time to spend in their apartment complex located not far from where the company's building was. The couple were slumbering soundly in their shared bed together, it was one of the rare calming times in their lives as Hellborn species of Hell. Though, Millie would very much prefer it if a certain white haired boy she's regarded as her own son in all but blood moved in with them to make their little family complete.
But, Moxxie didn't want to take any chances and the landlord had a very stern policy on more occupants.
For now, they're content with it just being the two of them enjoying a relaxing sleep. At least, it was relaxing until Moxxie's Hell phone rang. Annoyed, he turned the phone off and tried going back to sleep, only for it to ring again, leading him to wake himself up and answer the stupid thing.
He can only think of one person who'd be calling so early.
"What is it, sir?" Moxxie tiredly asked, it had better be important.
"Hey! Hope I didn't wake ya, Mox! How does a company trip to the Wrath Ring for some harvest bullshit sound to you and Mills?"
Millie immediately woke up after hearing what Blitzo was calling about with excited glee. "The harvest moon festival is here?! Yee-fuckin' haw! We're in!" she cheers ecstatically, overjoyed at her favorite yearly celebration that takes place where she and her husband hail from.
Sighing, Moxxie rubs his hand down his face. "Well, Millie's on board." He has never once considered going back to Wrath in a long while, even though he's also a Wrath imp. It's not that he hated his home, it's mainly because most Wrath imps are big imposing physically capable fighters that love to get into fights with their fists, while he's a bit more inclined to use the good old noggin instead of fists, that and his usual preference to long range weaponry. Then again, Millie would be disappointed if he refuses, so at least for her sake, he's willing to go. A thought came to him. "Wait, where exactly are you calling from?" The reception sounded way too clear for it to be far away, and he got the answer when his boss dropped onto their bed from the ceiling. "Mm-hm. Should've known." Moxxie deadpanned at the purring Blitzo.
"Hey. It's not like I came by to videotape you silly little scamps for a third time in a row. I do have some class, believe it or not." Blitzo defended.
"Yeah, well, do I really need to tell you again how annoying it-wait, you did that a second time?!"
Blitzo closes his eyes with a smile. "You should buy less shitty locks that are easy to pick. Oh, and one more thing. We have the okay to bring the kid with us. You know, show him the wonderful ring of dick in the brains, country hicks."
"Really?!" Millie was now even more happy. "We can bring Lincoln along?!" she held her cheeks with starry eyes and hopped on the bed in anticipation, she had been waiting for an opportunity like this. "This is the best damn news, Blitz! This means he gets to meet my parents! They've been wanting' to meet their new grandson!"
"You told Joe and Lin about Lincoln?" Moxxie questioned.
"Well, of course I did, honey." Millie said, as if it were obvious. "Momma would have shown me real Hell if I just dropped in with her grandbaby and not told her about him through letters."
The two male imps shared a tentative glance with each other.
Clearing his throat, Blitz addressed the bruiser. "Mills, Mills. You know I love it how you basically named yourself Linc's mommy without even thinking about his still alive mommy on Earth."
"Thanks, B!"
"Anytime, you bloodthirsty bitch." Blitzo playfully pats her head which she happily takes. "But, why the Heaven would you go and tell other demons outside of the company about our little secret?!" he exclaims. "Newsflash. If those higher up than Stolas or other big wigs catch wind of this, it's all of our collective asses on the line! Most exclusively, my shapely sexy ass!"
"Oh, calm down, Blitz." Millie holds his shoulder. "They're my folks. They know better than to just rat out on me. In Wrath, snitchin' on blood leads to a beating and they're not the type to just tell them uppity snobby fucktards. If anything, they're happy to keep it from 'em. They don't listen to anyone but themselves. Their bosses are them and no one else."
Blitzo contemplated. "Hmm, displaying astute faith in your pack while also painting them as utter baddasses, which was already clear given your skill at killing. I'm sold!" If Millie's family were anything like her, then maybe there was nothing Blitzo had to worry about.
Gulping, Moxxie meekly raised his hand. "Um, perhaps we should have a company meeting about this. It would be prudent to pro-con this the best we could, less we end up causing a massive debacle. Which, you know, for us, is very likely."
"Uh-huh. Let's see, here." Blitzo counts one finger. "Pro, we get to hopefully enjoy some free food since we got a personal invite from the Goetia that's running the whole thing. Con, you end up looking like a fuck-up in front of the in-laws. Well, Moxxie, that's a risk I'm willing to take."
"What? No. That-That isn't what I'm worried about."
"Bullshit, Moxxie. Utter bullshit."
His wife holds his hands pleadingly. "Please, Mox-Mox! I just want Lincoln to get to know the rest of our family and it's been such a long while since I last saw 'em, too and I miss them all so much!" she glared lightly. "Well, except for my sister, but the point is, it'll be a fun time for all of us." Her eyes somehow got more begging.
Sweet merciless Satan, Moxxie could never resist that look in his love's face.
"I-I suppose if it means that much."
"Yay!"
Millie happily plants a big wet one on his lips as a reward.
"Good to know you can see things my way, Moxxie." Blitzo boldly stands on the bed. "I mean, it's not like we wouldn't have taken him anyway, without giving a flying fuck about what you think, but this is also good!"
Moxxie droned. "Always a treat to know you think so highly of my input, sir."
"What I'm here for!" Blitzo laughs. "And besides, what in Satan's nuts are you even worried about? It's just a ring get-together in the boonies where you hicks give thanks to some large chunk of rock in space or something."
"Extremely inaccurate."
"Oh, yeah? You gonna drop your drawers and moon the moon or something?"
"This. This right here." Moxxie points out their little exchange. "This is what makes me so concerned."
Blitzo jumps off the bed. "Get dressed in whatever farming threads you got and meet me outside, guys. Loona should be at the office by now and if I know the kid, he's up and about with the whole magic thing."
Millie runs to the closet, hands clapping. "I've been waitin' to give our boy these clothes!"
Oh, how Moxxie wishes he could just laze the day away in bed. Alas, it was out of his hands now, when Blitzo sets his mind on something, there is very little chance to dissuade him from pursuing it. In the process, he has to drag him, his wife, Lincoln, and sometimes even Loona along that directly leads to a series of constant tomfoolery and the boss never once feels bad about how it affects those he's supposed to be responsible for. If he could, Moxxie could call him out on it, but would Blitzo actually listen? That's the real question. It's too late now and maybe he's wrong? Maybe this will be fun and perhaps maybe try and get into the good graces of his in-laws for once, it's not like they could like him any less, right?
Waking up early wasn't anything new for Lincoln.
In fact, he's done it plenty of times before he ever got into Hell.
Whether it's to score the sweet spot in Vanzilla or snag one of his dad's breakfast sandwiches, or get to the bathroom first. In this case, it's practicing demonic magic as part of his intent to one day break the curse keeping him trapped. Stolas had asked Blitzo to lend back the grimoire for something sounding important, so Lincoln had to make due with all the items and tomes that were collected from the library.
"Okay. Let's see here..." One of the books was basically an encyclopedia of curses, the requirements to cast them, and the means to break them. If he could figure out how to break simple curses, then he can work his way up to breaking the incomplete one he's dealing with. "Hell-pig blood. Mint scented candles. Finally, a sprinkle of horn ashes. Don't even wanna know why Blitz has all this stuff." Casting a curse on a person wasn't acceptable to him, so he decided to use an inanimate object like one of the office's staplers. Reading texts, the runic letters were risen from their pages and surrounded the tool where it proceeded to spread pincer legs and a single mouth.
"I heed the call of the Pentagram! I must feed on flesh!" It turned to Lincoln. "May I feed on your flesh, good sir?"
"...No, but nice of you to ask."
Time to turn the talking stapler back into a regular stapler.
He douse it in waters gathered from the depths of Envy's waters, then added it in some ashes from burned crosses for that extra demonic boost and waited approximately ten seconds, nothing more. That exact amount of time passed and yet, nothing occurred.
"Was-Was something supposed to happen? I don't really feel any different."
"Dang it!" Lincoln groans, flipping through the pages. "Did I miss something?"
"Now hang on. I suddenly feel something in my back. Or, my top? Bear in mind, I was an average stapler before now, so I'm not really sure exactly if my body counts as a biological-holy shit!"
It sprouted wings and can now fly around the room. "Wings? How were wings included?"
"Hey, man, I don't really give a shit right now! I'm gonna eat flesh from the skies!" the flying stapler goes out through the window, ready to enjoy its newfound sentience...until its wings are shot and it fell down in the middle of a street, picked up by a passing Sinner with a handgun and purple furred head shaped like a goat's.
"A flying stapler..." the demon goat shrugged in acceptance. "Eh. I've eaten weirder crap. Hell, I've eaten literal crap."
Lincoln closes his window with a disappointed frown. "Well, if I can't break even simple curses, maybe I can try feeding demons office supplies." he sardonically says, putting the magic items away. He may good with the grimoire, but that's when his boss needs him to whip up some portals and go on the defensive and if need be, offensive when a job goes tits up.
"Thanks for the meal, bunny kid!"
He has to have a better handle of magic as an everyday thing, rather than a tool when it's needed.
Like the way his teacher does things, the big owl's even able to perform spells without the need of the grimoire. Times like this are where he gets his newly bought personal Hell phone and plugs in the headphones and plays a song Octavia recommended to him. Very negative sounding lyrics and paints a depressive mood, but he will admit, the tune's undeniably catchy. "Anybody in here?"
Hearing Loona made him stop listening to the song and leave his room.
The hellhound receptionist walked in slow steps while cradling her own head. "Hi, Loona."
"'Sup, Linc." Loona surrenders herself to the sofa cushions. "Fuck, it feels like a massive rave in my head. Whoever invented hangovers can go to town with a horse, because I hate them with every fiber of my being."
"From last night or this morning?"
"Last night, duh." Loona spreads a hand across the room. "See how quiet it is? No work nights in a while. Free to go all out." she whimpers like an injured puppy as she rubs her still sore head. "Still hurts like a motherfucker."
Smiling sympathetically, Lincoln pointed to the coffee machine. "Don't worry. I got you covered."
He went over to get her a freshly poured cup of Joe for such an invention. "Three shots of vanilla?" she asked.
"Just the way you like it." Lincoln affirmed, earning a hair ruffling.
"That's my boy." she slurps it all in one gulp. The kid actually went and made morning coffee just for her because of how heavy her hangovers are, to think she wasn't all that positively receptive of his presence at first.
"Will Blitz be coming back, yet?" Lincoln asked, sitting next to her and scratching her back fur to further offer some comfort.
"No clue. Must still be over at his feathery sugar daddy's place." Loona guessed, her foot tapping happily as a response to the scratching.
"Great news, kiddos!" Both Lincoln and Loona nearly jump out of their spots on the sofa when Blitzo kicks himself inside with Moxxie and Millie in tow. "Stolas invited the company out for some moon fest junk in Wrath, so get yourselves dressed for an outing at some stupid festival!"
Lincoln dubiously titled his head. "Uh, Moxxie? Explanation?"
He's way more easy to follow than Blitzo.
"The Harvest Moon Festival is a unique event held once a year in Hell, specifically in the Wrath Ring." Moxxie eloquently tells the intern, expecting him to be unfamiliar with Hell's traditions. "To put it simply, it's not that different from a typical harvest festival in your world, Lincoln. The many imp farmers all gather together to celebrate a successful bountiful harvest. But what makes this particular festival stand out is that prince Stolas himself oversees the celebration every year, and can only perform his duties with his grimoire handy."
"Which is why he needed it back." Lincoln said in realization. "And he invited us all?"
Millie slung an arm around his shoulder. "Damn right! Our boss going to town with a prince is giving you a chance to meet grammy and grandpops! Doesn't that just make you all excited'?!" she pecks him on the cheek.
"You mean you want me to meet your parents?"
"Well, of course, sweetie pie!" Millie tosses him the clothes she picked out for him. "Don't you want to meet your new grandparents?"
"Uh..."
Blitzo slaps his back. "Come on, pal! You really want to break your mommy's heart?"
Moxxie stands between them. "Now, sir, don't even think about guilt tripping Lincoln into coming along. If he wishes to stay behind, then we should respect his wishes." Lincoln smiles in thanks that Moxxie takes into account how he feels. "Besides, he could be busy with his own plans, right?"
"I was." Lincoln scratched his head, still embarrassed by his failure. "Didn't really work out, though."
"Then take a break!" Blitzo continuously encouraged. "Human souls like yours never get a peek of other rings, so take advantage of that shit to the fullest! We can't exactly go to work until this thing's over with."
Lincoln was still unsure. As much as he would want to still work on his magical abilities, would it really be worth it if they just end horribly in the end? Of course, Millie really wanted him to go and his innate curiosity wanted to see exactly what this festival had to offer. "I guess some fun wouldn't be the worst thing to happen to us."
"That's mommy's little boy!" Millie hugs him and urges him to go to his room. "Hurry and get dressed! You're gonna love your aunt and uncles, too!"
"Loonie, that goes double for you." Blitzo told his adoptive daughter with a clap of his hands. "This is a company field trip!"
The hellhound twirled her finger in the air, lacking any excitement. "Yippee."
Once the I.M.P staff all changed, they gathered up inside the company van and made off for the Ring of Wrath, the third of the seven rings that Lincoln had been in so far in Hell.
Due to the special occasion for this trip, they all changed into country and farm clothing to not seem out of place and also fit in with the farming setting of the Wrath ring, it can safely be said that Wrath can be considered farm country of Hell. Its setting screamed that as the van passed by various barns, grass fields, and herds of demonic looking cattle. "Woah. It looks like the grass could go for miles." Lincoln marveled. Millie picked out a brown vest over a plaid orange shirt, bright blue jeans, and black farming shoes for him to wear as everyone else had their own standard country-looking clothes. This ring was also extremely hot, and on the horizon, Lincoln saw actual orbs of hot light resembling suns erupting from volcanoes.
Millie took in a deep content breath. "Home sweet home. It's about the same as when Moxxie and I left. Ain't that right, Mox?"
"Yes. That is very true..."
Speaking of, Moxxie was the only one of the M&M duo who wasn't all that thrilled to go back to their neck of Hell's woods. He kept fidgeting in his seat, extremely anxious for when they would arrive.
"You know, Moxxie, Millie loves talking about growing up here, but I don't think I've ever heard you ever speak about how it was foe you when you still lived here?" Lincoln can see the team's gun expert had some issues.
Moxxie expected Lincoln's astute observation skills would detect his own apprehension. "It's nothing too concerning, Lincoln. It's just, even though I was born here like Millie, I can't say most of her family have ever really...approved of me." he shyly admitted. "If there's one thing all imps from Wrath have in common, it's that muscles are the key to every victory of a battle. I, on the other hand, think more pragmatically and they don't necessarily agree with my point of view."
That confused Lincoln.
"How can they not? You know so much about weapons. How they work and how to handle them. It's what makes you such an important part of this team." Lincoln's praise brought great warmth to Moxxie who nearly teared up in joy. It was so nice to have a coworker that never belittles his masculinity or competence as an assassin for once. "If this ring is full of fighting lovers, then my sister, Lynn, would think of it as a paradise.
"Jock sister, right?" Loona took the time to memorize which sister was which. "No offense, Linc, but I wouldn't like her chances. The shit-storms that go on here aren't some workout."
Lincoln's eyes widen when they pass a field with pikes and barbed wire keeping back feral beasts. "Uh..."
"They help tippers out." Millie explained. "Neighbors just hate trespassers, and look, we're here!" she brightly exclaims.
Rough n' Tumbleweed Ranch.
The farmhouse that served as Millie's childhood home. Two imps, a male and a female, were standing at the entrance with the female one waving to them in greeting and the van stopped. The male imp was a burly muscular individual with a white mustache and white markings that spread across his left arm. This was Joe, Millie's father and the proud owner of the ranch. His wife, Lin, shared an uncanny family resemblance to their daughter, almost like an older version of Millie, but covered in white spots and had a more mature-looking full figured body and slim waist.
Not wasting any time, Millie exited and went straight for a big bear hug from her dad. "Momma! Daddy! I've missed you!"
Joe chuckles warmly when she jumps into his arms. "Yee-haw! And how's my deadly little pumpkin spice doin'?" he ruffles her dark hair affectionately.
"I'm good, Pa!" Millie expressed her gratitude. "Thanks for letting us stay here for the harvest jamboree."
Lin assured her that it was the least they could do. "It's no trouble. We know you aren't making as much anymore since y'all went 'freelance' after all." she said with air quotes and maybe too condescendingly.
"Freelance pays really fine, Ma." Millie counters, a little agitated. "We're doing fine. It's fine.'' She guides them to her husband who was having slight difficulty with lifting up their luggage. "Anyway, y'all remember my husband, Moxxie." she pushes him over and he shrinks back at their unimpressed frowns.
"Lovely to see you again, Lin. Joe." Moxxie amicably waves. "How have you been with all the flaming twisters and stuff around here?" A nice little joke should ease some of the tension in the air.
"We lost our old farmhand to one of 'em terrors last week." Joe darkly recounts.
Moxxie chuckles very nervously for accidentally bringing up some bad memories. "Oh, crumbs! My bad. I am deeply sorry." He regretfully apologized. "I didn't mean to open up that wound, sir."
"Hey, watch it! I'm the 'sir' around here, bucko!" Blitzo glowered.
If anyone had any right to make Moxxie try too hard, it was him.
Millie just remembered that this would also be her parents' first meeting with the imp in charge. "Oh, yeah. Y'all haven't met our boss, Blitz and his hellhound."
Loona took a break from her phone to bark back, insulted that Millie made it sound like she was some common pet. "I'm not just his hellhound, bitch."
"Yeah. She's also my daughter." Blitzo corrected earnestly.
"Only on paper." Loona pointed out as he walked for a formal introduction but she didn't follow. "None of y'all deserve to know my name."
Lincoln fake coughed in his hand. "It's Loona." she raised an amused brow and smirked at his cheeky grin.
Blitzo shoves Moxxie aside into farm animals. "A great pleasure to finally meet the sperm and egg factory that popped out this little gem of an assassin." Millie bashfully waves off the compliment while her parents share questionable glances. "You two raised one hell of a sturdy bitch!" he punched said sturdy bitch's arm.
Oddness aside, Joe and Lin took the flattering comments with pride. "That we did and proud of it."
"Last, but not least..." Millie was saving this introduction for last because it was so special for her family. She gently walked Lincoln over to meet her parents and presented him with maternal cheer and elation. "Say hello to Lincoln! The human child cursed to Hell I wrote to you about! And the proud baby boy of two coldblooded killers, which are me and Moxxie!" she shakes Lincoln.
Gulping, Lincoln holds a hand for a shake. "A-A pleasure, mister and misses." Both were taller than him and looked like they could rough it with the best, so how would they respond to an unassuming kid like him.
Both silently looked at him in a beat of silence, and Joe broke it. "Boy, you better put that hand down..." he ordered through a threatening tone, before vibrantly opening his arms with a wide smile. "...and give your pappy a hug! C'mere!" Joe laughed and pulled Lincoln into a tight hug and the kid got a familiar feeling of losing some oxygen.
"So that's where she gets it from...!"
Lin taps her husband's arm. "Now, that's enough, Joe. Give his Grammy a turn." When he releases Lincoln, Lin was more gentle in her hug, cuddling close to his form with happiness and giving him a once over. "Let me get a good look at you, now. My word, you are just so precious!" she cooed, holding his face tenderly. "Millie's letters didn't do justice in how adorable you are!"
"I know, right?!"
They were taking it better than Lincoln had assumed. "Uh, thanks, Mr. Joe and Mrs. Lin."
"Now stop it with that formal nonsense, sonny." Joe pounded his own chest. "Just call me Pappy Joe! Boy howdy, ya don't have any idea how we've been achin' to meet ya when we first heard about ya! Does me proud to know my baby girl's passing on every knowledge of how to pop a man's spine in half! She has taught you all her moves, right?"
"She once took me to see how she can twist a head around with just one punch."
"Ha! Came up with that move myself!"
Moxxie had to say this one thing. "Now, I understand your elation. But, uh, you should know that technically, we aren't legally Lincoln's parents. In fact, he works with us on the job."
"That right?" Joe crossed his arms stoically. "Why? Too afraid of the responsibility of raising a child?"
"No, no! You have it wrong!" Lincoln cleared things up. "My family-my human family-they're still alive. It's not like I'm an orphan."
"Blood or no-blood, Millie writes how you understand loyalty to your kin." Joe especially liked one entry. "Hell, she told us how you dropped a damn clock that was about to do her and the rest in." he held one his arms. "Hmm, lookin' like you need some more meat in those limbs, but if you managed to not die in Hell for this long, then there's no doubt a fighter somewhere inside."
Praise for some physical capabilities.
Not something Lincoln's used to hearing, at least not towards him.
"Y-You think?" Lincoln modestly asked. "I don't know about that."
Blitzo nudged his side. "Ah, don't sell yourself short, kid. He makes a really great intern."
"Glad to hear it, Blitz." Joe shook the boss's hand and made approving noises. "That's a fine name you got."
"It reminds me of war." Lin fondly said
Joe showed similar love for conflict like any other Wrath imp. "Ain't nothing sweeter than a little war to make a strong man!" he flexed a bicep to prove his point.
Complete battle freaks like their daughter. It was official, these were Blitzo's kind of imps. "I like you two."
If it was war they adored so much, then maybe Moxxie could appease that adoration using his area of expertise. "The thing about war, most battles were won thanks to technological advances in warfare." he went into a very informative lecture. "I've researched the history of weaponry extensively and it's inspiring how, for example, the progression of guns utilizing angelic technology has changed the landscape of Hell's combative-" Moxxie looked to see Millie making a cut it out signal as Blitzo and her parents looked perturbed. "-I mean, war is so fun!" he awkwardly declares.
"Guns get the job done and usually, that's all that matters." Joe conceded, though when it came down to it, he'd rather rely on his fists any day. "But a man ain't a real one if he can't tear the head right off a hellish beast with only his bare hands!" he punches his open palm with ferocious energy.
"Ha!" Blitzo laughs, knowing Moxxie wasn't anything like that. "Your in-law sure got you all figured, Moxxie! You got little baby hands like your baby dick!" he insulted.
Moxxie made him take a step back. "Refrain yourself please, sir."
"If you wanna see strong hands." Joe got their attention. "Y'all should meet our newest hired help after we lost the last one. Hey, Striker!" he calls.
Noisy galloping sounds were heard and they saw a mighty steed make its way to them. It was a horse-like beast colored gray an black stripes with a mane and a tail that were set ablaze. Four glowing eyes shone along with its orange fangs and horseshoes. Its lower body looked as if it were a pool of lava flowing and it neighed loudly as it carried the rider. Striker was a tall imp, even rivaling Blitzo's height, but had a more distinct appearance like his serpentine face, pale red skin tone, and even the horns appeared more jagged. A golden tooth shined and there were rings inside his eyes and he sported a small black mustache. His attire gave him the look of a real cowboy, fit with the big hat on his head.
He even had the steel confidence just by looking at him as his red-spiked tail slapped hard on his steed's behind to make it jump over the fence in front of the group.
Blitzo stared at the hell horse with an open smile and hearts in his eyes.
The rest carefully moved when it neighed wildly. "Well, howdy there!" The cowboy imp tipped his hat in greeting, a hay straw in his mouth. He caught sight of Millie and noticed the similarities between her and Lin. He dismounts from the fiery horse to get acquainted. "Oh, looky here. The famous Mildred. Heard some good things about you from your folks, little lady." he winks her way.
"Oh!" Millie laughed sheepishly, shaking his hand that caused Moxxie to narrow his eyes.
"What are y'all doing so far away from Imp City?" Striker snickered. "The free work finally slowin' down so you decided to move back?"
"Oh, no. Freelance isn't literally free work, we do get paid and it's-never mind." Millie has enough trouble trying to explain it to her parents. "We're just visiting for the festival. As it happens, the prince is our boss's boyfriend~." she teasingly drawls.
Blitzo was not amused. "Millie, I am not above hitting a female in front of her daddy, it wouldn't be the first time."
Now that got Striker's attention, this was the imp he's heard so much about from other parts around Wrath. "Boss, huh? Oh, so you're the bold imp that started his own killing biz." How funny it is, meeting him here.
"Hey, when you're good at something, you should capitalize." Blitzo responds with a shrug.
Still, Striker had to give Blitzo some credit for being one of the few imps in Hell that decided to take a chance and leave his own mark among all other bottom tier demons. "Not many imps start businesses on their own." Striker pointed out. As the lowest class of demons, they're all expected to take shit from all others and do nothing more than stay in their subservient roles, but Blitzo wasn't one of them and Striker respects that. "That's mighty impressive of you, sir."
Blitzo blinked, not expecting to get actual props for his efforts. "Yeah? I guess-I guess it is, isn't it?" he nods, satisfied and found himself shaking the cowboy's hand, too.
"Now if I'm right, you even conned that ditzy blueblood into getting you to the surface?" Striker asked.
Having one of Hell's elite in your pocket was even more impressive.
If only that was the only case. "Well, it's long and more complicated than that, but the short answer is yes." Blitzo then fumbled in his words when trying to explain that their partnership was strictly professional for all intents and purposes, and failing terribly at it. Moxxie and Millie silently chuckled knowingly and the former took great pleasure in seeing Blitzo in a stuttering mess for once. "But, he's not like, you know-he isn't my-I'm not his-we're not doing-we-it's a transactional fucking, you see." It sounded like he was also trying to convince himself.
Striker then saw Lincoln. "Well, I'll be." he crosses his arms and while the white hair was very misleading, he wasn't stupid enough to not see that there was a real live human right before him. "Here I thought Joe and Lin were pulling my leg. Lincoln Loud, I'm assuming?"
"That's-That's right." Lincoln nodded, trying to be cordial. "Are there gonna be some problems?"
Striker smirked with a humph. "So long as you don't start any, short-stuff. Apologies, it's that I never thought a living human soul would take up residence in these parts, let alone survive it. I take it Blitz and his crew are to thank for that."
"They've helped a lot. But, they've also taught me a lot, too and that's more than enough." Lincoln wouldn't know what he'd do in Hell without them.
Striker turns his back. "For your sake, boy, it better be. Though, word of advice, can't get far down here relying on others alone and you sure as fuck can't do it with a soft heart. Little guys like you tend to get stepped on, you know."
Lincoln lightly glared. "Then I must be doing something right."
So he can at least sass right back.
Not bad.
"Heh, whatever you say, kid."
"Don't let his looks fool you." Blitzo tells Striker. "Kid can pull through when pushed far enough. Believe me." What transpired with the cherubs was a clear sign of that, and Blitzo only wished that the boy could be more proud of it.
"I'll take your word for it."
"You know. You boys should enter the pain games." Joe told his employee and his daughter's employer. Said daughter, though, looked very downcast, which was weird since this sounded like her kind of contest.
Blitzo heard one of his favorite magic words. "I heard games! What games?!" he walked like a crab in a fast pace to the muscle-bound imp. "I'm in!"
Lin filled in for those unfamiliar. "Every harvest festival, there's a competition to be the roughest toughest bastard in Wrath!" Imps from across the ring engage in various physical challenges to earn the right to be considered the strongest of them all.
"Wow, you must have won, huh, Millie?" Lincoln says to his indignant coworker.
"Yeah! Except I can't play!" she bitterly huffs. "'Cause I'm banned for a stupid shitty reason."
Knowing her offspring was still sore about being exempt from the games, Lin sternly tells Millie that there was indeed, very good reason for why it happened. "Millie, you know you get too carried away. The last competition ended in fifteen separate funerals." As proud as Joe and Lin are for their daughter's exemplary skills in hand to hand combat, they're aware that when she gets too into it, she loses all control and causes nothing but problems. They taught her much about expressing her rage through her fists, but never could successfully teach her how to keep it in check.
"I'm aware. But, I only caused nine of them." Millie rolled her eyes and pouts. "How come Sallie May gets to compete?"
"Because your sister doesn't have a neighborhood headcount that borders on the many."
Millie begs to disagree. "She does too! She always bragged about it being bigger than mine!"
"Doesn't count if no one can find the bodies, sis." Seething in rage, Millie looks with Lin and Lincoln to see a female imp arrive with a shorter male one, carrying a lot of body bags. They were soon accompanied by other male imps.
"There you all are." Lin frowns. "Didn't I tell y'all that your sister would be coming? I know me and your Pa raised you to not be tardy for kin."
"Blame it on the traffic, Ma." Sallie May tossed the big into a hole. "Folks are already storming the place, and hello there, little sis. I'd say I feel bad that you won't be breakin' heads with us, but I can't 'Cause I don't." she tauntingly grins at the still fuming Millie.
"Come on!" Millie pleaded. "How else will Lincoln cheer for his momma when she's puncturing a bitch's lungs?"
"Now, that's enough of that, Mildred." Lin demanded, having enough. "You're not an impling anymore, so I expect you to accept whatever shit's thrown your way. You're setting a bad example for the boy."
At this point, Millie's brothers and sister notice Lincoln who shyly waves. "Hi."
"...Nephew!"
Lincoln was met with his new 'uncles' dogpiling on him, giving him affectionate hair ruffles and noogies and he suddenly finds himself recalling a specific dream where he had ten brothers instead of ten sisters, but this was less troublesome. "Settle down there!" Lin shouts, making her sons stand in a line. "I know y'all are excited, but try being more careful. Humans are very fragile, you know."
Sallie May picked the kid up. "So, you're Mills' new kid, eh? Let me guess, adopted?" she teased her sister, again. "Does your man shoot only blanks or are you just not fruitful like Ma?"
Millies stuck her tongue out. "You're just being jealous that I got badass mom status now."
"Ah, you can have it. I'm not picky, just call me your Auntie Sallie May, okay, little man?" She tenderly patted his head. One thing Lincoln couldn't help but notice was that Millie's sister's horns looked like a male imp's and a light white color in her black hair and...oh.
"Um, okay." Lincoln bashfully smiles.
"Sorry your boy won't get to see you kick ass, sis." Sallie May patronized. "But hey, because I'm nice like that, I'll go ahead and do it for you, only much better."
Millie tries one more time to beseech to Lin. "Ma!"
"Young lady, my word is final." Lin didn't want any more lip on the subject. "Look at it this way, you and Lincoln can still root for her and your brothers and now, you can cheer on your boss!"
Moxxie came to a very bold decision despite some hesitation. "You know, she'll also cheer for me."
Joe slapped his knee in a fit of laughter but saw his son-in-law's determined expression. "Wait, you?"
"Yeah!" Moxxie didn't take being underestimated very well. "I'm allowed to compete, can't I?" It'd make sense for someone physically capable like Millie, but not for an imp that can't even handle a nudge from his mother-in-law.
Joe admired the determination, but still found the very thought laughable. "Sorry, boy. But, I don't think sensitive thespian types would last very long in those bloody games."
"I was born in this ring, too!" Moxxie even tries doing his own southern drawl. "I have some fight in me as any other imp."
Striker figured he should at least prove it. "Huh. Well then, little fella. Why not help me wrangle a hog for dinner?" he points to a big pig demon sleeping in the mud.
Moxxie scoffs. "Simple. Just watch me." he reached for a concealed gun in his shirt, but Striker had other ideas.
"Nah, little man. Use these tools." The pale imp handed Moxxie rope and a single knife. "Its shell can bounce bullets off. Best bet is to stab it underneath and pry it open."
"Oh, right, right. I knew that. I can do that just fine." Moxxie nervously claims with an audible gulp.
Blitzo leaned in closer to give him one of his best pep talks to date. "Now just remember, your rep with the judgy in-laws is on the line here." Some nice pressure helps build up the fear of failure. "So, no pressure at all. You totally won't make an ass of yourself in front of everyone important in your life." Oh, yeah. The clear signs of Blitzo being an encouraging boss.
Lincoln glared at Blitzo. "How is that helpful, Blitz? Moxxie, you don't have to do this."
"He's right, Mox." Millie nodded. She knew how much her love wants to prove himself to other Wrath imps, but she couldn't give a damn if he wasn't the strongest, the way he is now is good enough for her.
"N-No!" Moxxie shakes his head. "I-I am comfortable with this!"
"Great! Now, go knock 'em dead, tiger." Blitzo cheers and shoves him. "Kick that pig's ass!" Now at the point of no return, Moxxie quietly creeps up to the slumbering demon pig. He was scared out of his mind, but didn't want to show it for all to see, he's supposed to be showing unwavering resolve. With a jump, he lands on the pig's back, sending it into a panicked frenzy once Moxxie lassos the rope around its neck and the imp goes for the kill, but just as Striker said, the shell was nigh impenetrable. Squealing in fury, the pig trashed around and Moxxie struggled to stay on it as the rest watched, one half in concern and the other half amused. "Fuck yeah, Moxxie! Ride that hog! Make it that bitch you won't call back in the morning until you realize it took your wallet!"
"This is just fucking beautiful." Loona couldn't resist recording.
"Doing a-okay, Moxxie! You are the man!" Blitzo kept going on with his fake cheers. "Send me that video back home."
Lincoln stares in disapproval which caught Loona's attention. "What? This is too good!" he turns away and she sighs, slowly putting her phone away.
Suddenly, Striker jumped in, knocking Moxxie away and handling things way better. In one swift move, he managed to succeed where Moxxie had failed in impressive fashion, and Moxxie was left in pain and embarrassment. "Ow! I think I broke my clavicle." he soothes his now sore neck.
"Don't be so down, little one." Striker's tail rattled like a rattlesnake. "You were bound to fail." he cruelly mocked, taking the pig's corpse to Joe and calling for Blitzo. "Hey, boss man. You wanna help the men skin this thing for dinner?"
Blitzo gladly accepted the offer. "Buddy, you won't find anyone else who's down to skin some manly meat with a manly man."
"Heh, yeah, that's what she said." Loona quipped.
"Who said what?" Blitzo asked, enraged. "Wait, what bitch is talking shit about the number one boss?!"
As they all went to the farmhouse, Lincoln and Millie helped Moxxie with his injuries, but that did little to repair his damaged pride. "Don't let him get to you." Millie comforted, wrapping bandages. "And hey, you don't need my parents' respect. They'll give it, eventually." These things just need time, trying to force or rush things only succeeds in more strenuous relationships.
Sallie May didn't believe that. "No, they won't." she didn't care about the way her sister was growling at her. "What? I'm speaking the truth, ain't I?"
Lincoln rolled his eyes. "Look, Moxxie. It doesn't matter to me or to Millie if you're not some big tough guy. Trust me, I get it, and I'm telling you that it's not really worth it.'' He understood Moxxie's dilemma perfectly. At one point, he too was worried if he wasn't a tough enough guy due to growing up with so many sisters and went through a lot just to prove otherwise. Got him and his best friend nothing but trouble like a bear, a moose, bees, and a waterfall and he eventually understood that just because a guy isn't tough in the traditional sense, that doesn't mean he wasn't strong in his own way.
Everyone has their own way of having strength and it can mean more than just muscles.
Moxxie knew they made good points, but it was just in his nature to still at least try. "I will be there at those games!"
Lincoln and Millie were disappointed as the latter hummed in concern. "Say, sis, how pissed would you be if I bet on him dying?" Sallie May cheekily asked, and proceeded to back away when Millie got out her knife. "Just teasin'. If y'all need me, I'll be helping myself to some of mama's pies. Better luck next festival, sis."
"Pfft. Striker." Moxxie dismissed. "He's not so great."
Striker.
Lincoln turns to the house where he could see Striker through the window, cleaning the pig blood off his knife. Guy had charisma, arrogance, and had a very high opinion on themselves and took great joy belittling those weaker than him.
Common traits among demons.
But there was something about him that made Lincoln uneasy, he didn't like how he treated poor Moxxie, but there was an unknown factor that caused Lincoln to get the instinct of being wary of him.
Like there was more to Striker than just being the new hired help.