"Come along now, Lincoln, honey! Yer gonna love this!" Millie promised Lincoln who was in his imp disguise once more, walking Imp City's streets in his casual clothes alongside Moxxie and Millie. Now that he finally had a way to fully blend in with Hell by masquerading as a demon via mask, Lincoln can walk in broad daylight, with no worry of being made out as a human and not a rabbit sinner. Millie was ecstatic at this, as this made the three look like an authentic family of three imps having a terrific day. This week, IMP was off from work to lick their wounds and recover their minds after recent harrowing adventure.
She even had a nice little surprise that was bound to have Lincoln say bunches of thanks to his mama.
"On my way! Come on, Moxxie!" Lincoln ushered to the adult imp.
Every step his little hooves took, Moxxie had a tense feeling that increased. He had the same feeling yesterday, as well.
In fact, it's been lingering a lot due to the events that featured an impromptu reunion with his father, Crimson.
Crimson.
The bastard excuse of a father who tried to marry off Moxxie all to make some quick bucks.
Who also nearly had his family and coworkers killed.
He could have let him die, but didn't want his damn blood on Lincoln's hands.
That was the perfect chance to do the act himself. The years of abuse and manipulation would have made it more than justified but he didn't, Lincoln's wellbeing took top priority.
Still, should he have not at least tried?
They managed to survive, but they didn't cross just any demon.
His old man was a crime lord who did not take kindly to those who strike against him. Millie and Loona may have dwindled his numbers, but Crimson could always hire replacements. And then, he'd put all his energy in orchestrating his revenge on I.M.P. This very second, he could be at his manor in Greed, plotting assassinations, ordering hits, tracking their movements, and so on. It made Moxxie fearful, paranoid even, and why wouldn't he? Crimson was a very credible threat, one that I.M.P can't easily get rid of like most who usually accost them.
Millie turned around and her arms spread.
"Ta-da!"
Lincoln's eyes sparkled.
It was-It was beautiful.
A sight he thought he'd never see again.
Satan damn it, they should have sent a poet.
An arcade.
An actual arcade.
He didn't realize until now just how long it's been since he last paid a visit to a place of fun, a place immersing oneself in digital adventures, and gorging on the exquisite cuisine arcades were famous for.
Like all things, its overall theme was heavily Hell-bases, but that made it look all the more compelling.
"Millie, you are the best!" Lincoln happily hugged.
She squealed, arms around him.
"Ah knew you'd love it! Everyone at the office knows how much you love video games and now that you can fool everyone with your fancy disguise mask, you can enjoy freely playin'! Come on, Ah can show you how yer ma plays, tot!"
Millie showed Lincoln one of her favorite games in the arcade.
Two VR headsets for a simulation of a tag-team cage match were taken by them and they were facing off against virtual minotaur fighters as NPCs cheered for the mayhem to begin.
In the non game world, Lincoln and Millie did various defense stances and throwing punches which on the screen were the moves against the enemy characters. Millie's involved very over-the-top finishers. "Pay attention, Lincoln! This is how yer ma took care of business growin' up!" The NPC audience cheered as she held the fresh head she tore off for all to see. "That's right! Hail to the fuckin' queen, you computer generated sons of bitches!"
Moxxie kept a close eye on the pair as they continued playing.
Even in a place for recreational fun, there was bound to be danger at every corner.
A passing aquatic demon caught sight of Millie and smirked, his hand reached for her ever so slowly.
Which gave Moxxie enough reason to grab him from behind, gagging his mouth and pulling him aside into the janitor's room. "Alright, you! How much did Crimson pay you, huh?! How much are you willing to break up a happy family over?!"
"Dude, what the fuck?!"
Moxxie pressed a pistol against his ribcage. "I'm asking the questions, dickhead! Thought this was gonna be an easy hit? We're just fucking imps so it'll be an easy pay? Well, these imps take shit from no one! Hear me?!"
"The hell are you even talking about, man?! I'm not gonna kill anyone?"
"...You're not?"
"No!"
"...Are you sure?"
"Frisk me if you want, I got nothing on me!"
Turned out he was right, all Moxxie found was his wallet, a pack of smokes, and a flint mint condom box.
"Oh. Ooooooh…crumbs." Moxxie coughed awkwardly. "Well, this is an error."
"Yeah, no shit." The aqua demon spat. "All I wanted was to cop some of that firetoad ass."
"...Pardon?"
"I mean, hey, I got some standards. But I'll admit, as far as imps go, that lady friend of yours ain't that bad. Might even actually call her back. Hahaha!" He obnoxiously laughed.
Beat of silence commenced as Moxxie narrowed his eyes dangerously.
Less than ten seconds later, Moxxie walks out, his gun was smoking and he wiped black blood off his face. "Asshole." Moxxie's eyes shot wide when Lincoln and Millie were no longer at the VR game. "Oh, dear Satan! Where'd they go!"
"Mox! Over here!" Millie called, she and Lincoln were now enjoying a racing game that was done in a post-apocalyptic style. "Guess what? Our little man shot off the marauder's murder machine and it caused a whole crash! It was glorious!"
"N-Not literally, of course!" Lincoln added. "Though, it did feel pretty dope…."
Time went on and the three left the arcade, the married assassins were kind enough to buy souvenirs and smoothie drinks for their surrogate son. "Okay, I think that might be enough excitement for today. Why don't we go back to the office, I'm certain that we must have a new client by now."
"Come on, Moxxie, yer bein' more uptight than a Wrathian cow wrangler tryin' to stop tippers at night." Millie countered. "We're livin' the parenthood fantasy that Loona always said we wouldn't have before Lincoln came around!"
"Is everything okay, Moxxie?" Lincoln asked.
"Of course, of course! It's just anything can happen, heh-heh, eh…." Moxxie trailed off, staring warily at the dive bars where loan shark demons frequent.
He couldn't take any risks.
Not with the safety of his family.
Blitzo, for all his flaws, would understand.
….At least, Moxxie hoped that he would.
If he wasn't being his usual self.
When Lincoln, the only person Loona tolerates, isn't at the office, Loona would have to contend with messes caused by Blitz. "Look, lady, I don't care if he ruined your whole family dynamic, that shit's got nothing to do with me." She barked at the bone telephone, being more than fed up with these non-business related calls.
"Looney, who's calling? A new client?" Blitzo asked in his office. "Tell 'em were on a sabbatical or somethin'."
"Nah, just some bitch you used to do, at least according to her. All pissy about you taking off after catching you balls deep in her brother, or cousin, some cheating in the family type deal? Is that true?"
Blitzo tapped his head thoughtfully. "I think so? I mean, the cousin part sounds familiar, but a brother? Definitely would have remembered that. I mean, I also fucked someone's mom, but I just thought that was the dad which is a whole different story altogether."
Loona cringed. "Fuck, Blitz, is there a hole in hell you haven't been inside?"
"Ah, just let those calls go to voicemail. If I worried about every nighttime tango I've had, I wouldn't get anything done. And I do some very important work that requires my full attention, you know."
Today's important work was acting out a scene that involved him play-acting with tiny horse figurines.
"Oh, Clippy-Clopp, I bet you got a huge sword sheathed somewhere." He did a high pitched voice, moving around a pink one.
For the brown horse, he actually made a neigh sound. "Get that mare ass over and find out, sexy~!" Blitzo made sloppy kissing noises, smushing both figures together. "Mmm! Oh, give it to me! Give it to me, you studly stallion! You want it, you take it, you majestic breeder!"
"Blitz! We're back!"
Hearing Millie, Blitzo zipped out to greet his employees. "Hey, there's my favorite little workers! Did you little scamps have fun without me? Bet you didn't. Bet you also wish you'd have invited me over because otherwise, it'd be a dick move not to."
Lincoln rolled his eyes. "Blitz, if you wanted to come along, you could've asked."
"Wha-And look like a clingy little bitch desperately in need of friendship? Is that what you think of me?" Lincoln stared deadpanned, making Blitzo frown. "Oh, shut up. Just hope you had your fill playing your little games. Because, I'll just say it, things are BOOOOOOOOOOOring!"
Loona shrugged. "Fair enough."
"I mean seriously, we seriously need another job! The last client barely gave us pocket change! Not even enough to satisfy the latest auction online for a limited edition equestrian painting that I have been eyefucking for as long as I can remember!"
And he knew he wasn't the only one, plenty of equally horse loving weirdos in Hell.
He's met them at parties.
"In that case, sir. I for one, hereby call for a meeting!" Moxie dramatically, raising a finger.
Lincoln looked between Millie and Loona. "Uh, we're all here, Moxxie."
Moxxie blinked, putting his finger down. "Right. Well, uh, good. Because there is an important matter we must discuss."
Blitzo groaned. "Oh, for the love of Satan's holes, fine! I'll take the camera out of your shower stall! You know, if I didn't know any better, Mox, I'd say you hate that I consistently stalk you and Mills."
"That's not I-I'm sorry, you put a what in where?!"
"I know, right? Waterproof cameras?" Blitzo chuckled, impressed. "What will they think of next?"
Lincoln looked at him, disturbed. "Yeah, that's not what he means. Also, ew, Blitz. Just ew."
"Oh, sure, go ahead and judge, Sucubus lover." Blitzo smirked at his intern's shocked look. "Yeah, that's right. Thought no one else could hear you listening to a certain parking space stealin' hoe's songs, did ya?"
"Lincoln Joseph Albert Knolastname-Loud!" Millie admonished hands fiercely on her hips. "What did Ah tell ya about listenin' ta that dirty music!"
"Wha-I-Those were only Verosika's instrumentals!" Lincoln placated. "They're very soothing with or without the words!"
"Yeah? Well, I hope a paid deduction is also soothing, buddy boy."
"Oh, for-Blitz, you're making me feel more and more stupid about not accepting her job offer. Paid offer, just so you know."
"Ha! Nice try, pal! I know you care too much about this company to just walk!"
Lincoln stuttered in his attempted retort, but couldn't refute that. "Whatever."
Predictably, Blitzo had to act all smug about it. "I rest my case!"
"Excuse me, hello?" Moxxie was not in the mood for this. "Can we please not digress! This is an important matter that we simply can't ignore, although we will circle back to the camera in the shower, something that we should have known earlier." He sent a pointed stare at his unashamed employer. "What I'm referring to is our previous little adventure where we met my fa-" He retracted, even acknowledging their biological ties was too much for Moxxie to stomach. "Crimson." Lincoln rubbed his arm in a frown, I.M.P told him about his second demonic episode.
"What? You worried your old man will try gunning for our heads?" Blitzo scoffed obnoxiously. "Please. The way I see it, we did the fucker a service. If we hadn't wrecked his place and massacred hordes of his guys, he never would've found that slutty goof, Chaz, was planning on connin' his way into the family."
"You don't know him like I do Blitz." Moxxie warned. "If there's one thing he doesn't tolerate, besides anything non-heterosexual, it's people crossing him. Even if he was being played by Chaz, we still defied him. Fought against him. The fact that we did so and still walked away alive might as well be spitting in his face….of which I actually did."
Loona yawned. "Is there any time where you get to the point already?"
"What I'm saying is that Greed mobsters like Crimson don't just let such infractions go. It's a whole thing about pride and reputation. Besides, he'll take any excuse to finally get rid of his greatest shame." Moxxie sighed miserably, Millie's hand comforted his shoulder. "Bottom line, we should be prepared for when, not if, he decides to retaliate."
"Okay, okay. I hear what you're saying, Mox." Blitzo nodded, arm over the worried smaller imp's shoulder. "And yes, I really do mean that. But come on, you're talking like we'd be 'sleepin' with the fishes'." He joked with an accent. "Like hell we'd just get owned by some two-bit grunts."
"Don't think he won't try hiring more capable muscle. He may not have gotten Chaz's nonexistent riches, but he's sure to have at least enough for just that. Hence, why I think it's imperative that we make sure to be ready by doing some good old fashioned training."
Moxxie's solution got his wife's blood pumping.
"Hot damn, that's what Ah'm talkin' about, sweetie!" Millie punched her palm. "This gonna be another classic I.M.P trainin' day, I call teachin' Lincoln how to throw a mace!"
Lincoln sweated. "Uh, I think I still need to work on crossbows."
"Good suggestions, both of you." Moxxie, however, had different ideas. "But what I'm thinking is something more advanced." His face contorted into a narrowed serious glare like there was a dramatic close-up. "Boot camp!"
Millie gasped.
Lincoln, Loona, and Blitzo were clueless.
"The fuck is that?" The boss questioned.
With little explanation, Moxxie requested everyone dress in their country themed garb for their next destination was back to the Wrath Ring. "Okay, Mox. Run this by me again." Blitzo drove a little too annoyed. Wrath had far too many uncomfortable memories for him even if it was home to M&M. "There's this fancy training camp here in hick town that you want us to sign Lincoln up so he can pass for a Wrath-bred I.M.P? At least tell me we'll make a stop for Mill's DILF and MILF parents."
"Not the words I'd use, but that's about the gist of it." Moxxie confirmed.
"Are you sure about this, Moxxie?" Millie asked. "Not that I'm against our boy learnin' to fight like an imp. But, this is boot camp we're talkin' about. And for the record Blitz, it's not some fun summer camp for imp tots. It's the toughest meanest and unforgiving trainin' ground in all of Wrath. Ma and Pa never even signed me or any of mah sibs up for it. Won't this be a little….much?"
"Ordinarily, I'd agree with you, Millie. But that was before we had to worry about the likes of Crimson."
Loona nudged Lincoln and whispered a bit. "Don't you think you should speak up, Linc? Way I see it, Moxxie's getting his panties in a bunch."
Concerning as boot camp sounded, Lincoln did see some reason in why Moxxie thought this was best. "Maybe, but wouldn't it be a good thing for me to learn some more advanced stuff? Who knows? I might actually learn the hang of it. I've done pretty well training under Millie and she's worth ten coaches."
Loona sighed, resigned. "If you're sure, Linc."
"First things first, people. We need a referral from one of the boot camps' alumni." Moxxie stated.
That alumni just so happened to be located at Millie's family ranch.
I.M.P approached it very quickly and they saw Millie's father, Joe, chopping some lumber with a battle ax.
Wiping off sweat, he spotted the vehicle parking outside his home and smiled widely. "Well, howdy damn! Look who it is! Hey, Sallie! Lin! Better come out here! Got some visitors who finally decided to drop by!"
His wife and other daughter went out to see what got the family patriarch so excited.
Lin became equally overjoyed. "Dip me in lava, is that our independent little Mildred?! C'mere, sweetie!"
Millie jumped into her parents' arms. "Ma! Pa! Oh, why does it always feel like ages whenever I come by?"
"Maybe 'cause ya never visit that often."
A red rush tackled Millie into the mud.
It was Sallie May who made that little remark and greeted her only sister the best way they knew how to. Some harmless sisterly wrestling, at least putting Millie in a tight choke hold counted as harmless in their family. "Though, Ah can't say I blame ya, big sis. Who wouldn't be scared of gettin' their ass handed to 'em by me. "
Millie smirked back. "Sorry, couldn't hear you." She grabbed her sister's shoulders and flipped on her back to pin her down. "Not over the sound of you callin' quits!"
Blitzo grinned, tail shooting up. "Okay, beginning to think this was a good idea!" He recorded them on his phone.
"Okay, break it up, you two!" Joe grabbed them by their shirt backs. "You know the rule. No tearing each other apart after you're all grown up. And Blitz, pleasure to see you again. Business has been good since word got out that the runner up of the last pain games stayed over at our humble little abode."
"Yeah? Figured they'd care more about Striker being your old farmhand." Blitzo spat out the cowboy's name.
"Maybe, but the wily bastard went and hightailed out of here. Word is he's also decided to go freelance like a sucker. Oh, no offense."
Blitzo grinds his teeth. "Haha, yeah, well, it's not really a sucker's game since we've actually turned a quota this week. Don't believe me, ask your grandkid, he and Mox usually handle crunching the numbers."
"Speaking of, where are ya, son?" Joe asked Lincoln who exited the van. "Don't tell me you think you're too good for huggin' yer….pappy…." he trailed off when saw Lincoln in his imp disguise. "...uh, shit, my memory startin' to go into the crapper? Can't help rememberin' you lookin' less, and I know how fucked this sounds, red last I saw you."
"Huh? Oh, the mask." Lincoln removed it. "Just a way to move about without giving me away as a human."
"Well, put that thing away, sweet pea. No need to hide anything from yer family and c'mere!" Lin waited a long time for another chance to cuddle her adopted grandson and she was done waiting. "Mmmwah!" She pecked him on the cheek. "How are you, sweet pea? Been eatin' well? Oh, grammy's got some leftover pies in the fridge!"
"Hehe…." Lincoln blushed bashfully. "Happy to see you too, grammy Lin. Uh, you too…aunt Sally."
Chuckling, Sallie May ruffled Lincoln's hair. "Think Ma's bad now? Should've seen her when Mills, the boys, and I were tots. You'll get used to it, squirt."
Millie noticed the absence of the other male family members. "Speaking of, where are they? Our brothers are usually helpin you out in the field, Pa."
"Lin and I sent tehm to fetch some more grub at the market." Joe answered. "The fam made quite a haul this harvest. Enough to keep our stomachs full come the next one. And hey, what with the whole freelance situation you folks got, y'all could always work here and-"
"What's that? Free food? Oh, well if you insist!"
Blitzo didn't want to hear more cracks at how working freelance is a low paying gig.
Just as Lin promised, there were frozen pies that got instantly heated up by a magma powered oven. A common kitchen appliance around Wrath, cooking the food to levels that are suited for the imp denizens' tum-tums.
Amazingly, Lincoln once again was able to safely eat them despite being a human.
Probably just a curse side effect.
Yep, that's all it was.
A simple side effect.
Now for him to speak up and avoid thinking about other, more ominous, possibilities. "Wish this was a casual visit, but there's another reason why we came here."
"Allow me, Lincoln." Moxxie stood up from his seat. "Joe, Lin, I realize that we've never really seen eye to eye on many things. However, I have a personal request that I hope you'll agree to."
"Hmph, is that so?" Joe raised a questionable eyebrow. He's willing to admit that hiring Striker was a screw-up on his and Lin's part. But, that doesn't mean he'll just roll over for the son-in-law he was still critical of. "Just because you married into the family, that don't mean we'll just give handouts all willy nilly. Not after Cousin Willy Nilly. Our son''s wife tried to warn us about her cousin and boy howdy, was she right to. Sleazy little bastard!"
Lincoln looked to his adopted aunt. "What happened to Cousin Willy Nilly?"
"You don't wanna know, bud."
"It's nothing of that sort, I assure you. The reason we came to Wrath is so that I.M.P can further refine and advance our already impressive combat prowess." Moxie stopped Blitzo before he could comment. "And no, Blitz, that's not a euphemism for whatever you're thinking after hearing the word 'prowess'."
"Killjoy."
"Anyway, for starters, we're hoping to sign Lincoln up for boot camp."
Joe spat out some pie on Moxxie's face, Sallie May stopped eating, and Lin ceased washing the dishes.
"F-Fuck!" Joe hit his chest. "Would, uh, would you mind repeating that?"
"It's as I said."
Everyone heard Lin's hands slam on the kitchen counter. "Boot camp, huh?" The ranch matriarch turned to give her son-in-law a pointed look. "You tellin' us you want our grandbaby to go through Wrath's trainin' that only the few can stomach."
Moxxie pushed aside the pressure she was giving him, he stood firm and resolute. "Being one of its famous trainees, we were hoping you'd put in a good word."
"Hang on, I thought your old man was the vet we were looking for?" Loona asked Millie.
"Oh, sure, Pa did his stretch. So did me and mah sibs, but ma was one of boot camp's golden trainees. She was the runt of her liter back then, yet surpassed everyone else and made a name for herself. The Red-Hot Fury."
Lin narrowed her eyes at Moxxie. "In that case…" She smiled wide. "Everybody, get ready! It'll be so excitin' to see the old place!"
Moxxie smiled. "Huh. That went smoother than expected."
"What exactly is boot camp like? I know since it's Wrath, it's probably….intense." Lincoln conceded. "But, I'm sure it was easy for you two, right?" He asked Joe and Sallie May.
The father and daughter shared a tentative glance.
No imp is a true Wrathian unless they've mastered the sublime art of combat. That's been the law of the land since Wrath's very foundation. It was the ring that births extraordinary fighters and it's only through intense training of the mental and physical-mostly physical-variety that they become as such. Imp parents teach their little implings the best they can, but if they really want them to turn out as the most deadly bloodthirsty imps in Hell, then there's only one fitting training ground in a Ring that adores the very concept of warfare.
Boot Camp.
I.M.P's van and Millie's family truck took the route Lin remembered very well and as they drove, they passed by rows of imp skulls mounted on spears. Up ahead were four mariachi dressed imps that started their Ode to Boot Camp.
Guitars played repeating dunes and they sang in tandem.
"Sit a spell as we regale the bloodiest place that makes bitches wail."
"Wanna prove your worth in Hell, then Boot Camp's the place, oh, it's so swell!"
Boot Camp didn't have any fancy compounds like a traditional one.
No, this training ground and the trainees were under a strict regime that made the training Lincoln's had under Millie actually look tame by comparison. Imps were doing push-ups but had stacks of stone slabs on their backs.
"Bones breakin', play-killin', that's what we call Boot Camp!"
I.M.P and Millie's family approached the entrance where a gaggle of imps ran across the field while the trainers chased them, firing off rounds that hopefully were only blanks or rubber bullets.
The blood-soaked socks weren't a good omen, though.
One had his sparring partner in a headlock.
"Wanna learn how to twist a head off? Boot camp!"
An imp was being awarded by a trainer.
"Be recognized as a stone-cold killer to be heard of? Boot camp!"
"Let's say it again, ain't no place like Boot Caaaaaaaamp!"
"Enough, already!" A gray haired bearded imp in a black tank top and red camo jeans sprayed water on the mariachi band. "By Satan's testes, I keep tellin' y'all to can it with all the motherfucking singin'! Every time folks roll in, it's an entirely different number! At least stick to a single theme, you fucking little shits! Go pester the assassins at the pub, you like evading their privacy with yer noise!"
Lin smirked, whipping her tail to announce her presence. "Still got that sunny disposition of yours, eh, McDarell."
The old imp squinted his eyes and they widened upon recognizing her. "Well, by Satan's dangling ball sack. Here I thought that pain in mah scrote from earlier was morning pains. Should've known it was a sign of danger comin. What in Hell brings you back here, Lin? Here to make me look bad in front of the recruits again?"
"Ha! Like you need my help for that!"
"Oh? You wanna help me? Then help by getting your trouble making ass out of my face!"
"Still pissy about my graduation fight?"
"I stand by what I said! I had a cold that day!"
Lin and the old timer glared at each other before grinning and sharing a friendly laugh, grasping their forearms. "Good seein' you again, brother."
"Yeah, well, I guess you've earned your right to come back every now and then." McDarrel saw the company she kept and Joe was the one who stood out. "Shit, you really done and brought your whole fam, didn't ya? And hang on, is that you, little Joey?!"
"Joey?" Lincoln's eyes landed on an embarrassed Joe. "Is he talking to you?"
"Er, must be mistaking me fer-"
"Aw, what? Want me to call you Joe now since yer a tough big man now!" McDarrell slapped Joe's back, powerful enough to make him bend over. "Ah still can't wrap my head around Lin settling down with you of all people!"
Joe grumbled. "Yeah, good to see you, too."
"Aw, just bustin' yer chops! Ya always were a sensitive soul!"
Moxxie blinked once. "He was?"
"Like you wouldn't believe! Took a while to toughen him up! He had a tendency to lag behind Lin which was even more embarrassing on account that he always followed her like a lovesick little pup."
Millie and Sallie May couldn't help but snicker and Joetrembled, not appreciating his younger days being aired out like this. "If we're done making a pit stop at memory lane, I'd like to introduce you to the newest addition to the family and Wrath's newest little recruit!" His tail pushed Lincoln ahead.
"Oh, right! Um, I'm Lincoln." The kid waved amicably.
"ATTENTION!" Lincoln stood stiff as a board when McDarrell screamed. "You listen and you listen well, soldier! You will only tell me your name if I ask for it! Did I fucking ask for it?!"
"N-No!"
"No, what?!"
"No, sir!"
"Wrong! None of that sir crap in this boot camp, boy! For the duration of your stay, you shall address me as master chief master!"
"You-You said that twice…"
"Oh, I did, did I?!"
"Ye-" Lincoln's eyes darted to the side. "No?"
"No, what?!"
"No, master chief master!"
McDarrell took a beat of silence, thinking deeply. "After much deliberation, I am willing to concede that repeating the master part of my official title is indeed confusing and somewhat unnecessary! In fact, leaving out the second master makes it sound even cooler! Master Chief! Yes, I fucking love that! It's the sort of name that's recognizable and synonymous with someone of strong character and fortitude! As such, I feel I am not worthy of such a title and so, you will now address me as Sarge, you pathetic scum! That sounds nice! Do you agree, maggot?!"
"Y-Yes, Sarge!"
Jesus, Lori was never this extreme.
Loona touchingly spoke in Lincoln's defense. "His name isn't maggot! It's Lincoln!"
"Well, excuse me, Furry! In this boot camp, trainees are whatever I say they are! Hell, I've issued each trainee names of my choosing as I don't give a shit enough to remember whatever their mamas gave them upon birthing them from their poon!"
Blitzo hummed. "Never did an army man before."
"Now, report to the mess hall, maggot!"
Lincoln looked around. "Where is it?"
"Find it yourself, dammit! Go, go, go! Hut to it, little imp! Put some pep in yer step ya noodle armed shrimp!"
Lincoln ran quickly if only to preserve his precious eardrums.
"As for you lot of cocksucking bitch-faces!" McDarrell shouted at the rest. "Follow me to my quarters and no dilly-dallying! This here's a dilly-dallying-free zone! But, it's not a smoke-free zone! So smoke away, go and kill those pussy throats that can't handle a little smoke."
"God, I hope this ends in a better lay than Chaz." Blitzo said, biting his lip.
At last.
Lincoln succeeded at finding the mess hall.
Running under the intense heat of Wrath's volcanic suns was exhausting, but it was a miracle he hadn't collapsed from heat stroke as of yet. Taking a look inside, Lincoln saw the occupants and as expected, they were mostly imps. What was more telling was how most looked considerably older than he was. Some in their late teens, others nearing young adulthood, really made him feel small.
A fact that a slobbering oafish imp was glad to point out.
"Lookie here, fellers! Some new fucking fresh meat! Or I should say fresh shrimp!" He obnoxiously laughed to himself.
Lincoln was now the center of attention in a den of Wrath-bred imps and they surrounded him to try and size him up and come to their own conclusions about him. "Shit, this kid's shorter than my brother." A stitched scarred and white marked male remarked. His coveralls were unhooked and stained by dirt.
"D'aw! Ah think he's precious, Deucey!" A female imp wearing dark red shorts and black top. "Howdy! Ah'm Mary Loue!"
"H-Hi, I'm Lincoln."
A rowdy buff imp in a blue torn jacket picked him up. "Feh! Looks like we got ourselves some fancy schmancy city boy! Here to make fun of us huckle-fuck low-born boony imps?"
"Hey, put me down!"
"What? I'm barely doin' anything. Yer sorry ass ain't gonna last here if you keep being a whiny little pussy!"
Lincoln clicked his teeth. "Tch! I said, let me go!" He took out his knife and reverse gripped it.
He smacked the blunt end in the bigger guy's face.
"Agh!" Little fucker!" Lincoln landed on his feet after being let go. The disguised human boy kept a firm grip on the knife.
"Ooh, you see that?"
"Little feller's got some balls."
"Fuck, I think Big Moe's actually cryin'!"
Big Moe himself glared angrily at Lincoln.
"Why you punk-ass little…! Ain't nobody does that to me and-!" His raised fist was caught before he could attack Lincoln. "Hey, what the hell?!"
"Trainees. Cease."
The air in the mess hall became tense. Big Moe's breathing hitched when he saw the interloper was not only any of the boot camp's training officers. But it was a tall slim-built yet physically fit imp. An opened long gray sleeveless jacket exposed his scarred bare chest and his single eye bore into the rowdy younger imp. The other eye was useless on account of the eyepatch covering whatever was behind it.
Gun holsters were around his hips and the cowboy beets had sharp rowels.
One side of his white hair was shaved, and the other fully grown.
"Mr. Slye, I-I was just-"
"Taking your seat. Now."
Blunt.
Commanding.
Straight to the point.
There was no trying to fling excuses at this Slye guy.
Big Moe did as he was told and one silent command from him was enough to make the other trainees follow suit.
Next came in their chief instructor.
McDarrell.
"Look alive, you little slugs! Ah see y'all have been acquainted with our newest victim and playmate! Play his cards right and he'll only just be a new playmate!" He slapped his knee, laughing but it was only him. "THAT WAS YOUR CUE TO LAUGH AT MY HILARIOUS JOKE, MAGGOTS!"
The trainees laughed along, but it sounded very forced.
"Funny, sir!"
"Hilarious!"
Even the skinny old janitor joined along by instinct.
"You're so funny, I actually came!"
"Hal, shut the fuck up! Go back to your cleanin! Yer only here because Ma would hassle me if Ah fired you, brother! And stop saying that, Satan damn it! It only gives all those inbred jokes non-Wrath borns make more fuel!"
A trainee whispered to another. "Didn't he also mention his mother having a brother he calls 'uncle paw-paw'?"
"I heard that! That's a baseless rumor!" McDarrell ignored those sensitive talks to go back into drill sergeant mode. "Now, once you've had yer fill of the crap we call grub here, report to the pit at 0400! We're gonna give our fresh recruit a proper boot camp welcome! That'll be all, as you were, pathetic scum!" He shut the door and opened it again. "Also, here on, you will refer to me as Sarge! It has come to my very late realization that my previous title, master chief master, was not in fact, a catchy callsign! Now, I feel like a dumbass for not seeing it sooner! Good day! Mr. Slye, I trust you to take things from here!"
With him gone, Slye kept watch over the trainees, sending a pointed look at Big Moe who stormed away. "Lost my appetite, but this ain't over, city boy!" He pointed at Lincoln.
Lincoln glared back at him even as he walked.
It looks like he really can't go long without coming into conflict in Hell.
And he very much preferred his old non-confrontational approach.
But, these imps weren't giving him a choice.
His time in Boot Camp was meant to remind him that Hell can be unforgiving.
"Shit, pissing off Big Moe on yer first day? Bold!" A lanky tank top male imp commented. "A little stupid, but bold!"
"Thanks, I think?"
Mary Loue took his arm. "Come along! We'll introduce ya ta the rest of the gang, they're just over there!" She sat him down and showed him her merry friends. "This is Cackles. He loves playin' that fork roulette game." A cross-eyed imp was laughing like a mad dog, repeatedly jabbing a fork between his fingers.
"Gyahahahaha!"
"To his right is Jug. That name's not for show, by the way."
Jug drank a barrel of Beelzejuice in under one minute, "Howdy!"
"Then there's, Stink-eye." That guy gave a nasty glare to everybody, even himself. "Hamshanks and his twin, Bubber." The brothers were arm-wrestling. "Qwak, Bets, Hanna, Bethy, Jork…."
While she listed off everyone else, Lincoln looked at the slop that passed for food here.
Suffice to say, he might actually kill for one of his human father's signature Lynn-sagnia right now.
The Boot Camp Pit was where trainees held their sparring matches. Two fought each other wielding spear weapons, the ends were sharpened enough to cut the skin. Everyone watching howled, shouting at them to make things more bloody.
"Slice his ass off!"
"Fuck her up! Fuck her up real good!"
"Got 20 souls on the scruffy lookin' one!"
Lincoln flinched when knocked out teeth landed at his feet. It all came to an end when the imp missing those teeth collapsed in a hard thud, limbs twitching. His victorious opponent had her foot on his chest, raising her weapon in the air and basking in all the cheers of her triumph. For the loser, all he got were jeers and mocking laughter.
"Match end!" A trainer imp declared. "Next match shall begin momentarily!"
So, this was something Millie had to go through, her and her family.
The kid was starting to see how she turned out to be such a superb vicious way possible, and he meant that in a nice way.
The woman really made being a natural born killer a nice quality for her.
The question, could he last as long as they have?
After a few seconds, the next match was announced and McDarrell was the one to act as the referee. "Listen up and listen good, dirtbags! We got a special match up! Allow me to introduce the adoptive grandson of our very own Lin, Lincoln!" Shocked and awed whispers emerged in the crowd. There wasn't an imp there who hadn't heard of the Red Hot Fury. "Now, don't go expectin' he'll be every bit the maimer as his grandma! The reason I shared that little info is because she personally asked that her kin be put through our beloved training ground! Any questions?"
"She's a GILF now!"
"That wasn't a question and by Satan's fluffy balls, keep it in your pants, man! Now, who'll be his sparring partner? Better not see any softies just because he's a tot. Now, who'll be the boy's bleedin' buddy for today!"
One imp was happy to take the role.
Lincoln grimaced upon Big Moe stepping up to the center and grinning viciously, cracking his knuckles.
"Oh, terrific." The secret human droned before getting pushed forward by the spectators next to him.
Resigned, Lincoln might as well at least try his best for he had the feeling Wrath imps wouldn't respond kindly to a fight that was refused.
"Don't cry fer yer mama too much when I have you bleeding in the dirty, city boy!" Big Moe spitefully taunted, hoping to get under Lincoln's skin.
He had a big mouth, and Lincoln won't lie, that cruel expression on Big Moe really worked up some punching urges. But, he had to remember the lessons he's learned so far from his adopted imp parents.
Hit 'em hard, but fight smart and don't be afraid to let out some of that inner rage.
Big Moe was the first to make a move.
His fists rained down to crush Lincoln and the boy dodged by stepping to the left. The bigger imp charged at him, but Lincoln's small size worked as an advantage, being nimble and fast enough to avoid getting struck.
Big Moe sent a fist firing at him and Lincoln was ready to dodge.
However, the fist changed its course to finally meet Lincoln's face and the kid skidded across the solid ground. Big Moe snickered nastily at the downed Lincoln, he was assuming that was enough to teach the city imp a lesson.
Lincoln, however, stood up, a little blood leaked from his lower lip and he spat some out.
The mask also changed his human blood color to black.
It couldn't numb the pain, though.
Lincoln put his fists up and glared determined at his opponent and clicked his teeth, but his frustration subsided.
This just meant he could smack the little runt around some more.
Big Moe whistled and a spectator threw him a club weapon and it was especially hard to not get hit by the swings.
The club's impacts left cracks on the ground.
"Oh, come on! How is that fair?!" Lincoln voiced his indignation.
"Haven't you heard?! Fairness is fer pussies!" Big Moe bellowed and spun his club over his head for a left-side swing.
Lincoln had been slightly out of breath due to dodging so much, this last one might be the last one he could make. Even though this was only a spar, Big Moe was fighting for keeps, he truly fought with the intent to harm Lincoln in any way possible.
McDarrell watched evenly, and Slye observed from afar.
The kid was fast, he'll grant him that.
"Come on, squirt, show some actual grit! Yer supposed ta be the oh-so great Lin's grandson, right? Or is her whole family nothin' but a bunch of softies like you? Or al they total psychos like her oldest daughter? She got her ass banned from the pain games, right? Ha! Can't get more pathetic than that!" Lincoln's glare hardened. "What? Did that sting? Just tellin' it like it is. Hell, yer fam's nothin' but old news! Full of nothin' but out of control assholes, especially that tranny who-"
Lincoln couldn't take it anymore.
"RAGH!"
Big Moe was unprepared when Lincoln suddenly leapt at his face and strangely, his red eyes seemed to be glowing. Lincoln latched onto his face and barraged Big Moe's face with several hard punches. Either he had weights hiding or he was much tougher than he looked, because those punches felt like rocks striking his face. Big Moe threw Lincoln on his back and rolled out of another swing. He ran to Big Moe's flank, and kneed him in the rib, the second strike was him elbowing the gut.
Slye raised a brow from his spot.
Not bad.
Big Moe bared his yellow teeth.
With Satan as his witness, he wasn't gonna let this runt show him up.
Once more, he charged for a club attack and shockingly, its movement was blocked. No way did that kid actually hold it back with only his bare hands. Fact is, they didn't. What really blocked the club were two knives Lincoln drew.
Such smaller weapons and both them and Lincoln had the strength to keep the club at bay.
Big Moe still had confidence in himself, because blowhards like him always have a trick up their sleeve.
His tail reached into his back pocket and pulled out a razor needle and flung it at Lincoln's face.
"Ugh!"
Lincoln retracted as he rubbed it off.
An odd woozy feeling came and his vision became blurry. "What did you do?!" He couldn't even stand straight.
"We call that a winning move, boy!"
Big Moe's cackling was accompanied by his tail sweeping under both Lincoln's feet and he tripped over himself. Blinking, Lincoln barely made out Big Moe ready to swing down a final swing to put the runt in his place.
"That's time!"
"Huh?!" Big Moe's wrists were grabbed by McDarrell's.
"Ah think you boys had enough fun! Time for sparing is over!"
"Come on! He's down for the count, Ah gotta finish 'im-HRGK!" McDarrell grabbed his throat in a squeeze, lifting him up.
"Boy, if you wanna get out of Boot Camp alive, you best remember that my word around here is law! Understood!"
"Y-Yes, sarge!" Big Moe saluted despite hardly breathing.
McDarrell dropped him to the floor then went to Lincoln. "As for you, maggot! You call that a fight?! I've seen Wrath cockfights better than that pathetic display! If you're really part of Lin's family, then start acting like it!"
"Yes, sarge."
"No buts, I-pardon?"
"Yes, sarge, I got it." Lincoln said, glaring at the ground, but not throwing a tantrum.
McDarrell didn't expect that.
The crop of trainees that he's seen over the years were all hotshots who thought way too highly of themselves for his liking. Either throw too much pride in their abilities or think they are hot stuff due to family ties.
Not this one.
He didn't win that fight, and he didn't go on and on about how being Lin's grandson permitted him to be treated better. No, he took the defeat while containing whatever dissatisfaction he felt, especially at Big Moe's sneaky dishonorable little move which McDarrell did see. The big bastard thought he was too old to notice.
Even so, technically speaking, this was Lincoln's loss.
"Right. In that case, for losing, the penalty will be inventory detail. That involves sharpening and cleaning."
Surprisingly, Lincoln shrugged. "Good thing Blitz already gave me experience on that."
Weird kid.
Yet, he did show promise.
Something Slye noted, too.