Chapter Text
Blitzø
Blitzø hated life.
He did. Granted, he didn’t always hate life every waking second, but there was plenty about it. Himself mostly. There wasn’t much good about Blitzø Buckzo for anyone to like. His own existence felt like a curse on those around him.
A traumatized and broken husk of an imp whose only purpose was to hurt the ones around him. Sometimes he thought everyone else would be better off if he decided to kill himself. No one would miss him. Maybe briefly, they would. But then they’d realize that they were better off without him and be happier. Move on with their lives and be more fulfilling with their own than Blitzø ever would with his. The only reason he hadn’t was because the imp was just strong enough to overpower those thoughts.
But for how long? That was a question that the deepest part of himself hoped was never answered.
Blitzø took a sip from his coffee, feeling the cool liquid roll down his throat and dance along his taste buds, stilling the hunger in his stomach. The iced mocha had a cool chocolaty taste that rubbed him the right way. It was a good thing too since the rest of the day hadn’t been so pleasant.
First, his alarm had failed to go off, resulting in him waking up later than normal, meaning that Loona had gone a bit longer without breakfast. She’d shrugged it off saying that she was fine and could use her allowance to go out and get herself something to eat.
However, Blitzø’s parental instincts had insisted otherwise and he promised that he would have something for her. The hellhound grumbled that she was twenty years old and didn’t need him to make her breakfast. Yet, she went back to her room with a huff instead of out the door, while also almost calling Blitzø ‘Dad’ in the process. Blitzø raised a cheerful fist into the air. He would win her over soon, he just knew it.
It had been three years since Blitzø had adopted Loona from that god awful orphanage (though to call it an orphanage would be a disservice as it looked more like a prison than anything else), and to say that it had been worth it in Blitzø’s mind would be an understatement. She was still rough around the edges and kept to herself mostly, but he could see that the moody hellhound was coming around to his fatherly advances and suggestions. It would just require a bit more time. Yeah, she definitely was not getting tired of him at all, whatsoever. Nope, that’s what he told himself constantly.
Loona had put on a black sweater with blue sleeves, a skull imprinted on the front, and some blue shorty shorts. The dad in him wanted to tell her to not wear something so revealing, but he also realized that Loona needed her own independence. Plus, it was pretty rude considering that she never needed to have to tell him what not to wear. Around her neck was her black spiked collar that he’d bought her for her eighteenth birthday. It was the one thing about Loona that was consistent aside from her cold mood and her staring at her phone. No matter what, except when she was sleeping, Loona was always wearing the collar. She never said it, but Blitzø believed that it was her way of showing she cared for him.
As for Blitzø himself, he’d decided to go for a black t-shirt and matching black pants as well as a black jacket. To finish his outfit, he’d clasped his mother’s skull choker around his neck. Staring at the choker brought bitter sweet memories of the woman who it belonged to. He missed his mother so much. If only he hadn’t…
Blitzø shook his head. There was no need to go down that rabbit hole. If he did, he might’ve just ended up not going to work at all.
Then, after breakfast was made and Loona consumed her share (Blitzø only ate a single banana. Loona’s health was more important than his. He was used to going without food. Nothing a little iced coffee couldn’t fix.), Blitzø had needed to pick up Moxxie and Millie from their apartment. The streets of Greed were dangerous on one’s own and it was better to go out as a group, and with the four of them they were an unstoppable force to be reckoned with. On top of that, the acrid acid-smelling air was intoxicating (and not in a fun way) to anyone not used to it. Firefights happened regularly, someone was usually getting mugged, and families were forced out of their homes for not paying the ridiculous rent. That was just the way things rang in good old decrepit and desolate and dark Greed.
Of course, living in Greed also came with the issue of rent, with the prices being very high compared to even Envy, the wealthiest ring in all of Hell. They all managed to scrape by okay for the most part, but Blitzø had his eyes set on the Pride Ring, where rent would be cheaper and the four would be able to achieve grander opportunities. Blitzø had big plans and he wasn’t going to let some high rent and hunger stop him from providing for himself and his family.
Still, it wasn’t the most desperate he’d ever been.
At least now he wasn’t selling his body out on the street like he was during his early adult years. That had partly been why he’d adopted Loona in the first place. The thought of her being out there on her own and being forced to sell herself like that had sickened the imp immensely. That and how much he understood what it was like to be unwanted by the rest of the world. Picking her wasn’t a choice.
It was a necessity.
As for the next problem, this came when Blitzø discovered that someone had keyed his van. The imp had been furious when he saw the marks on his brand new van (despite it having some engine problems and several scuff marks already). How dare someone damage it like that? It wasn’t Loona obviously because even she respected the vehicle despite how much she seemed to resent him most of the time, and it wasn’t like Millie or Moxxie would damage the vehicle. He bet it was that old shark lady in the apartment below. Yeah, she was always a bitch him when he had done nothing to her (except break one of her planters…multiple times).
After screaming incomprehensibly into the air, he and Loona got in the van and drove down to Millie and Moxxie’s apartment. Moxxie and Millie were an interesting pair to say the least. Blitzø had never expected the two to hit it off the way they did, but he was certainly surprised when he found them full on raw dogging each other in their office breakroom. He’d fully expected the pair to hate each other, not realizing that their alternate personalities actually blended together perfectly.
Moxxie was a shy, bookish, marksman with a passion for musical theater. He was also very annoying and ran his mouth off a lot. Not in the sense that he was picking fights, but more so in the sense that he was so tedious about rules and sex. Guy couldn’t take a sex joke without blushing like the Virgin Mary. Still, he was a decent accountant and could do the paperwork, which was beneficial to Blitzø since he was mostly illiterate (and maybe dyslexic).
Still, Moxxie was no slouch when it came to a fight and was not intimidated by the tough and imposing demons they ran into regularly with their job. Blitzø always wondered where Moxxie had come from. He knew that Moxxie had grown up in Greed, in Notamafia Town specifically, so it made sense that Moxxie would be tough from growing up around gangsters. He’d literally met Moxxie in prison for Satan’s sake, albeit the thespian imp had gotten arrested for bank robbery, but he was still a good shot, so Blitzø had taken him under his wing no questions asked.
As for Millie, Blitzø had met her after the former had taken one of their kills from a previous job. Once Blitzø had managed to snap the horniness out of Moxxie’s head, the thespian had told him of Millie’s impressive skill and how she tore through their target like a paper shredder. Curious, Blitzø had gone out to find the Wrathian assassin, locating her in a bar within her home ring.
He’d challenged her to a brawl and let’s just say that he was quite impressed with her talent. There was no way that a talented psycho killer like Millie was working freelance and being tossed aside by a bunch of fools. Could they not see the potential in this woman? They were all gonna be sorely disappointed in themselves once their ragtag group of assassins made it big.
Blitzø had hired the female warrior on the spot and did not regret hiring her. The little spitfire was a menace in the field and could deal with entire armies on her own. Blitzø was not the only one impressed with her talent, however, as Moxxie was quite infatuated by Millie’s brutality and skill.
In hindsight, he should have seen it coming. Millie’s brutal, outgoing, and excitable personality combined with Moxxie’s shy, intelligent, and sturdy personality, the pair were a match made in Heaven…or Hell technically. The pair had started dating a few months after first officially meeting each other and were very serious. Blitzø wondered when, not if, Moxxie would propose to the dame as there was no way the two wouldn’t be getting married at some point down the line. Every song that Moxxie serenaded Millie with, the female assassin staring back with dreamy eyes, was another reminder that the pair were seemingly destined for one another.
Yet, Blitzø couldn’t deny the feeling of envy toward the couple as he thought of their relationship. How was it that those two could so easily find love with one another when Blitzø had been struggling for years to do the same? Maybe if he started watching them, then he could finally see what it was that he was missing. Plus, Moxxie had to be a decent lay in bed if Millie was constantly lusting with him. He might need to start recording some tapes to see what Moxxie was packing.
As he stopped by their apartment, Moxxie was dressed in his casual tuxedo and bowtie. He could never understand the imp’s desire to constantly wear fancy suits. He knew the guy was obsessed with musical theater but did he always have to dress like he was a conductor on Broadway. Millie meanwhile was wearing brown shorts, a red top and a brown vest, her long hair pulled back and styled into a high and wavy ponytail.
While Moxxie was the same as when he’d first met him (aside from being slightly less shy and more confident), Millie was a different story entirely. He supposed that finally having someone show her the validation she deserved did wonders for her self-esteem and personality. The Wrathian assassin was much more vibrant and cheery compared to the angry and curt woman he’d found in that bar. Her Wrathian accent also was much less heavy compared to when he’d first met her a year ago, likely due to a combination of her living in the city and her more positive outlook on life.
Once Moxxie and Millie were picked up, the four demons drove their way down to the small office space that they were able to use for their business. Blitzø was still working on the official name for their rag tag team, though it definitely needed to be an acronym that was for sure.
As for the office itself, it was more of an abandoned office building that was used by a variety of different demons for their own personal start-ups. The four of them had managed to stake their claim in the building with a bit of bloodshed and loose teeth knocked out, but the four room space on the third floor was all theirs. Sure it was old and smelled like mildew and death, and was always cold because the cardboard did little to prevent cold air from entering through the broken windows, and that wasn’t considering the rats and spiders that lingered and made Moxxie almost wet himself when he saw them, but it was theirs and that was what mattered.
The next problem came when the four entered their office space to find that someone had raided it in the middle of the night. They’d trashed the conference room and spray painted the words ‘Fire Toads Don’t Belong’ along the walls. Blitzø was surprised he hadn’t lost his voice by this point. Blitzø had sent Loona and Millie to find the demons responsible while he and Moxxie worked to clean up the mess. It was soul shattering work trying to wipe away the mess that some bullies had made, but Blitzø powered through it. It took a lot to demoralize him (or just one carefully placed shot based on his worst insecurities), and he sure as heck was not going to allow a few ignorant jerks to ruin the mood.
He and Moxxie had just finished wiping half the graffiti when there was a knock along the door frame and a young, posh voice called out.
“Is this ‘Imps for Hire’?” the feminine voice asked. Blitzø recognized the name as the one he’d given their little group until he could come up with a more professional sounding one.
Blitzø sighed tiredly. Of course someone would come by to ask for their services at now of all times. He was not in the mood for clients. He should just tell them to screw off and save his sanity for what other problem he ran into today. But then, the sight of an overhead light falling and sending broken glass onto the floor told him otherwise. He would probably need to power through this. Money wasn’t something that one came by in Greed despite it being literally how said ring of Hell ran.
So, Blitzø decided to do what he does best (aside from killing people that is), bullshitting. He cracked his back, flexed his fingers, and put on a charismatic smile and left the impromptu conference room with some pep in his step.
“Yes, it is ma'am,” he spoke confidently. “Sorry about the mess. We had some real Bonafede assholes break in last night, but don’t you worry. No B&E will stop us from helping you…out…”
Blitzø lost the ability to speak at the sight of the client. It was not one of those love-at-first-sight pauses, more so the what-are-they-doing here pauses because he was pretty sure that the last person he ever suspected to hire them would be a Goetia. Several alarm bells were going off at the sight of her. One of them was telling him that this could be a trap, because that sounded like something the Goetia would do, try to kill one another or use the lower class as the fall guys for whatever scheme they were cooking up.
A second alarm bell came from how the Goetia was dressed. The girl in question was wearing purple sweatpants with a star pattern coating them beneath a black hoodie with a moon pattern on the front, her hood pulled over her head and her eyes hidden from view. Her black tail feathers hung behind her as did a purple book bag slung against her back on both shoulders. Blitzø had never met a Goetia before now. That was a lie. He had, but those were memories he wished that he could forget. But he was getting sidetracked. The thing that bothered him was the fact that her clothing was so…casual. Don’t get him wrong, it all looked nice and top of the line.
However, it was less regal compared to what he expected those posh royals to be wearing all the time. This girl was in casual clothing and appeared to be on her own as well. Another red flag because he doubted that someone so young would be allowed this deep into the Greed Ring on her own without some form of protection.
And that led to the third major alarm bell. The girl’s age. While he didn’t know much about Goetian adolescence, he was pretty sure that they grew up to be very tall, and the fact that this girl was only a head taller than Blitzø (as well as her voice) told the imp that she was likely a teenager.
What’s a kid doing all the way out here? That was the question wasn’t it. There could have been a million reasons why some rich kid was here to elicit the work of a group of killers. Get rid of some classmates they were jealous of. Kill the family of a servant that ‘wronged’ them in some way. Any number of petty reasons that a teenager could have for wanting someone dead, and none of them were good or worth the money.
“Is everything okay?” the girl asked, stirring Blitzø from his thoughts.
Moxxie had followed Blitzø out and had a similar look of confusion on his face at the sight of the demon in front of them. Blitzø shook his head. He’d figure out the answers to those questions of his soon. Hopefully, he wouldn’t end up dead or turned to stone. He’d heard that some Goetia had the ability to do that.
Putting a smile back on his face and walking to the young girl, Blitzø continued, “My apologies, please come on in and get yourself comfortable.” He was trying to be more…was the term chivalrous…yes, he was trying to be more chivalrous and use less cuss words in an attempt to not offend the princess. Actually, was she a princess? Those Goetia always loved their different ranks. Blitzø wasn’t even sure what those were aside from princesses and princesses or kings and queens.
He placed a careful hand around the girl’s back, a misstep on his part in hindsight. However, he was surprised when she didn’t shift away from his touch and more so when she didn’t glare at him with disgust or call him a slur.
Okay, so either she was raised not to be a racist bitch or she’s just being polite, Blitzø surmised. Either way, we’re off to a decent start, I guess.
Moxxie was looking at him like he was touching a nuclear warhead, which Blitzø rolled his eyes at. He knew what he was doing. He probably wasn’t going to take the girl’s request. She was a Goetia, sure, which meant she definitely had a lot of money behind whatever her name was, but she was still a child. Whatever she wanted them to do, the girl likely didn’t understand the gravity of what she was asking nor a good plan for them to carry out whatever hit she wanted them to. He would just need to let things play out until he could figure out what she wanted. Then, he would reject her offer.
As he guided her to the conference room, the girl remained quiet, her glowing pink eyes inspecting the office around her. He glanced toward her face, but couldn’t see much aside from her beak and the glow of her eyes due to the shadow cast by the hood. Blitzø wondered if she had ever been in a place that wasn’t this decrepit or dirty before. He doubted it but there was a chance he could have been wrong. Still, he was a bit self-conscious about having some stranger look at his office like it were an art piece at one of those fancy galas.
“Yeah, I know it’s not what you’re used to, but I can assure you that it gets the job done,” Blitzø told her a bit defensively.
The young girl shrugged, her eyes trained on one of the slurs that had yet to be cleaned off the wall. “It’s fine. I’m not disillusioned with the reality that I’m more fortunate compared to others. I’m sure you worked harder for this than most of the tools from school worked to get decent grades. Spoiler alert, they didn’t.”
The response earned a genuine laugh from Blitzø. He certainly hadn’t expected her to give him a compliment like that, much less for her to say that some uneducated dumbass like himself was better than a bunch of rich kids. Granted, it could have all been an act to get what she wanted from him, but there was something so honest about her tone that he couldn’t help but believe her.
Yeah, I definitely like this kid.
“Oh yeah, and what about you?” Blitzø asked.
The young girl responded confidently, “I get by fine on my own intelligence. I don’t need to bribe or get my parents to sleep with the teachers since I’m not a dunce and actually put effort into studying.”
“Damn, you just say whatever’s on your mind, huh,” he noted with a smirk. “I like that. Reminds me of my own daughter.”
“You have a daughter?” she asked, her tone curious, but also tired. It was the first time that Blitzø was noticing it, but thinking back on it, her whole voice had sounded tired since she first asked them if she was who they were looking for.
“Yeah, my precious Loonie,” Blitzø replied, a warm smile crossing his face. “She’s older than you I’m pretty sure.”
“I’m fifteen,” the girl confirmed awkwardly.
“Yep, she’s five years your senior, but she’ll always be my baby girl no matter how old she gets.” He loved Loona. She may not love him as much as he did her, but he would never fault her for it. She was just as jaded by the world as he was after all.
It was then that the girl next to him stopped moving causing Blitzø to halt in his tracks. He noticed her rub one of her hands against her face and her body shiver in response.
“Hey, you okay?” he asked, his tone slightly concerned. Had he said something wrong? Oh, shit. I’m about to die aren’t I? He thought, wondering if he should grab his flintlock. However, death never came for him like his fears suggested. Instead, the girl took a deep breath.
“It’s nothing, let’s just get seated,” she replied, pushing him away by the arm. Blitzø ignored the slight wetness of her hand against his arm as he sat her down at the conference table. The conference room was the only place they could have meetings as there was no real space for an office (unless he could turn the bathroom into one, but that probably wasn’t wise when there was always a chance of food poisoning). The girl didn’t complain as Blitzø sat her down, pulling the seat out for her like a gentleman. She softly thanked him as she sat down, moving her bag in her lap before he gently pushed her in. As he walked around the table, he saw Moxxie by the door with a pensive look.
“Sir,” the thespian imp whispered to him. Blitzø moved toward the imp and leaned in. “Sir, are you sure that this is a good idea? She’s a Goetia. What if this goes wrong?” The imp was visibly nervous, his face covered in sweat as he peered behind Blitzø toward their potential client.
“Yeah, I know that, Moxxie,” Blitzø hushed, looking behind him toward the girl. She was fiddling with her hands, her eyes locked on them, and not paying attention to the two of them. He knew all too well what could happen if this conversation didn’t go well. He had a daughter in all of this and the last thing he needed was some spoiled girl to turn his sweet baby girl into a fur coat. “I also know that she’s a kid.” Blitzø sighed, pinching his brow. “Do you trust me, Mox?”
The two had been through it together. Blitzø trusted Moxxie and hopefully Moxxie trusted him the same as well. The imp nodded without hesitation. “Yes, sir.”
Blitzø placed his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Then let me handle this.” He looked behind the imp and toward the entrance to their office. “Keep an eye out in case someone decides to show up and kidnap her, or ambush us personally.” Moxxie nodded and left him alone with the girl, moving over to a dark corner of the office so as to not be seen.
With him gone, Blitzø turned back to the girl, the bird still sitting at the table patiently. The imp made his way to his seat across from the girl and sat down, placing his arms across the table, fingers clasped together in a professional manner.
“Alright, so sorry to keep you waiting,” he stated. “The name’s Blitzø. The O is silent.
“I didn’t realize Blitz had an O in it,” the girl pointed out with a raised eyebrow.
“Ah, thank you,” he replied, feeling flattered, and confusing the girl in front of him even more.
Though she shrugged it off with a mumbled, “Whatever. ” He fought the urge to aw because that was the same response his Loonie had given him. The back of his head was telling him that those two would be good friends, yet he had to remind himself that such a friendship would likely be problematic in the long run.
“Well then what’s your name, or would you prefer I refer to you by your title.”
Octavia scoffed in annoyance. “I’m a princess but I really couldn’t care less about it.” She leaned back in her seat before replying, “Just call me Octavia.”
Blitzø blinked in surprise. Doesn’t care about titles. Well, that’s a first. The last Goetia he met couldn't stop bitching about being called a Marxist or some dumb title starting with M. It was a delight to be able to be on equal footing with one of them for once. But enough thinking about social hierarchy and sex work. It was time to actually get to why she was here in the first place.
“So, Octavia, what is it your–”
Before he could finish asking her, the posh bird stated coldly, “I want someone dead.”
Forward much , he thought. He was almost caught off guard by the sudden interruption and by the cold fury in her eyes. He would have been scared straight if not for the fact that he was aware that Octavia’s anger was not directed toward him.
Seriously, just who pissed this girl off so badly that she wants to hire people to kill them . It was clearly much deeper than some petty grudge. He’d seen that type of anger and this was not it. No, this was so much more raw and personal.
This girl wanted revenge.
“Right, I figured that. Who specifically? A classmate? A bully? A servant? Who is it that you want to pay?” He questioned casually. He ran down the list of usual suspects regardless in the rare case that he was wrong, which he never was but needed to be sure in that tiny percent chance he was.
Octavia opened her back pack and reached inside, pulling out a torn photograph and pushing it across the table toward Blitzø. He turned over the torn photo. It appeared to be some kind of portrait. There was a young Goetia woman with piercing pink eyes, a white swan or peahen, or some type of bird, sitting in a high chair with her hands on her lap. She was pretty freaking hot, that was for sure. Blitzø would probably have sex with her, if he could handle her personality. If she was a stone cold bitch, then no way was he sticking his dick in that. He had standards.
Near the torn edges, Blitzø could make out other figures, but there weren’t enough features present for him to make an identification of them. Blitzø wondered who this woman was to the girl. There was also something familiar about her, like he’d seen her somewhere before, but he couldn’t quite place it.
“Her name’s Stella,” Octavia told him. “She’s a princess only through marriage and lives in her husband’s palace in Pride.” The girl released a shuddered breath. “I want her gone.”
“You want us to kill another Goetia,” Blitzø stated, looking into the girl’s eyes to gauge her reaction. As he peered into her eyes, he realized why Stella was so familiar. He’d never met her before, but he’d seen her eyes. They were the same eyes as Octavia’s.
What the fuck is going on here? Blitzø thought to himself. The girl in front of him was ready to commit matricide and was doing it without a regret. There was something off about all of this. What could this woman have possibly done to earn her own child’s ire? It had to be big if her own child wanted her dead.
“Yes, will that be a problem?” Octavia questioned inquisitively. The inflection of her tone was definitely more cold and calculated that time. Blitzø could acknowledge that he was a bit intimidated by her at that moment. Despite her being a client and a child no less, Blitzø was quite impressed with her. Still, there was one major problem with her desires. Well, several problems to be exact.
“I mean, we don’t exactly have any angelic weapons on hand,” he started. If they were gonna kill a Goetia, then they needed angelic weapons, and those cost a fortune, more than whatever how much Blitzø had made in his own lifetime. The girl would need to provide the cash to buy them if they were to pull off a successful hit.
“I can provide you with them,” the girl replied confidently.
“Do you even know how to find someone who deals in them?” Blitzø then asked. He doubted it. It was a hunch, but he was pretty sure that this girl hadn’t thought this plan through. She was still a kid after all. Hormones were a real bitch during those teenage years, almost worse than any abusive parent. Okay, maybe that was a bad comparison, but anyone who’s ever been a teenager gets it.
The girl shrugged with uncertainty. “It shouldn’t be too hard. I found you didn’t I?”
And there was his proof that she hadn’t thought this through. Yeah, there was no way he was accepting this hit. No matter how much this girl offered. The risk of being tortured by the Goetia was not worth the money Octavia could provide him.
“Yes, and without being mugged it would see as well,” he snarked, raising his legs from beneath the table and resting them on the wooden structure, lazily lying back against his creaking chair. “Quite impressive.”
“Can you get it done or not?” the girl asked impatiently, her voice raising with inclination.
Blitzø eyed her with a neutral expression before closing his eyes and responding with a calm, “No.”
Octavia was quiet for a moment, like she hadn’t quite heard him correctly. There was a deep tension in the room as she bore her eyes deep into her soul. Blitzø tried to not show any fear and he succeeded for the most part, but he couldn’t deny that this girl was intimidating. She certainly took after her mother that was for sure. Then, like a switch had been flipped, Octavia slammed both her hands against the conference table, causing it to crack. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me missy,” Blitzø told her firmly. The confirmation caused Octavia’s resolve to crack.
“Why not? I’m offering you a large amount of cash to kill my m–...this woman,” Octavia stuttered. Blitzø raised an eyebrow at her slip up.
Yep, I was right. This bitch is her mom.
It was obvious to him now that the girl was desperate. Whatever reason this girl wanted her own mother dead, she wanted her gone and now of all times. He also noticed something else, within her tired pink eyes. Fear. Whether it was for the woman in question or of something else, Blitzø didn’t know.
“Listen here, Via,” he began.
Octavia corrected, rather harshly as well, “Octavia. You don’t get to call me Via.”
“Yes, Octavia,” he apologized. He wasn’t going to fight her on that, especially since the nickname was a point of contention for her. He wondered if it was because her mother had been the one to regularly use it. Actually, where was her father in all of this? Did he not care that his daughter was alone in Greed attempting to hire people to murder his wife. Or was he another dead beat like Blitzø’s old man who didn’t care about his child. “While I would love to accept whatever money you have to offer, my answer to taking it is an emphatic no because you are a child.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Well I somehow doubt you’ll be able to protect us or yourself in the case that someone investigates your mother’s death,” he explained. He and his impromptu family of assassins needed some kind of reassurance that things wouldn’t go sideways. While he was confident that the girl in front of him wouldn’t try to stab them in the back, he doubted that she had the resources or wit to protect them should anything go sideways or her mother’s death was investigated further.
“How the fuck did you even–”
“Your eyes,” he told her. Octavia’s eyes were nearly identical to her mother’s save for being a lighter shade of pink.
The young Goetia sunk in her seat, releasing a tired hoot. “I just want her dead,” Octavia muttered.
“Why, what’d she do, take away your phone privileges?” Blitzø snarked before he could stop himself. It was a terrible thing to say because he really didn’t know her story but, Blitzø being Blitzø, often could not keep his mouth shut when it mattered.
In an instant, the young girl bristled at the sarcastic remark, her claws coiling into fists. Blitzø could feel a pulsing and dark magic boiling to the surface and flowing across the room from the young bird. The young Goetia climbed up on the table and stalked toward him. Blitzø kept his cool but the raw and untamed magic that was flowing from the girl in front of him was causing his body to shiver in fear.
“Listen, I don’t give a fuck if you think of me as some dainty spoiled princess,” she echoed fiercely. “My whole fucking life has been turned upside down these last few days and all I want is the person responsible for it dead!”
At some point, the girl’s hood had fallen behind her, revealing her face to the imp. Octavia had a mop of unpreened headfeathers rolling down her back, indicating that she hadn’t been taking care of herself, but more prominent was a nasty shiner on her right eye. Said eye was bruised and closed slightly indicating that it had happened fairly recently.
“You…want us to kill your mom cuz she hit you?” Blitzø asked, feeling pity for her. It made sense. If the girl was being abused by her mother then Blitzø could totally sympathize with Octavia wanting someone else to off her mother for her. His own father had given him a few growing up. Yet, it felt like something else was missing. However, the girl was about to provide that missing context, whether he liked it or not.
“I don’t fucking care about myself! I had to find my father with his wrists slit in his own goddamn fucking bathtub!” she cried, her eyes overflowing with tears. Her eyes were glowing much more brightly, casting their impressions on the imp’s face. Her voice was distorted and broken, shattered. Octavia picked up the picture of her mother and waved it in front of Blitzø. She briefly stared at the photo of her mother with contempt before screeching, “And it’s ALL…HER…FAULT!”
The owlet burned the picture to smithereens, the ashes dissipating into the air. What followed was something neither Blitzø nor the girl expected to happen. In a burst of pink flowing magic, Octavia released a wave of star dusted wind so powerful that it clashed with the windows. The glass burst into pieces and was sent flying out, a few shards flying back in the room. Blitzø had ducked beneath the table and had fortunately managed to avoid all of the shards, he was pretty sure he had anyway. The adrenaline was still running through his body.
As he hid under the table, the imp heard the sound of sobbing from the owl princess as she continued to mourn her father. Blitzø peered from beneath the table and glanced toward Octavia. The girl was a mess, both emotionally and physically. Her body was covered in bits of glass but she appeared otherwise unharmed. She was coiled up along the table, releasing the pent up sorrow and anguish she’d been hiding for who knew how long.
Blitzø knew he should have been angry about the windows. He should have been angry about the damage that the girl had caused. But the anger wasn’t there because of Blitzø’s stupid heart strings being pulled by the girl in front of him.
His mama had always told him that he had the biggest heart in the world. It was that heart that chose his precious Loona. It was that heart that took in Moxxie when he had nowhere else to go. It was that heart that saw the wasted potential in Millie and decided to give her a chance at success not seen in imps like them. And it was that heart now that saw a scared and broken kid crying her heart out after seeing something that no kid should ever have to see.
This is going to turn out as one of those cases, Blitzø realized as he got up from beneath the table. It was a simple rule with clients. Never get attached to them, and it was one the group had managed to stick to in the time they’d been in business. Now though…there was no way that Blitzø couldn’t involve himself with whatever problems Octavia was dealing with. His heart wouldn’t let him send her on her way. Damn his bleeding heart, this was going to get him in so much trouble.
At the same time as he was contemplating his next move, Moxxie had run through the door with his gun drawn before being stunned by the sight of the crying Goetia. Blitzø held a finger up toward the imp to stay quiet only to be surprised by the look of worry on the imp’s face as well as him pointing toward Blitzø’s arm.
It was then that Blitzø saw it.
A shard of glass sticking through his lower left arm, bloody and dripping. The imp sighed annoyedly. Just what he’d needed. At least it didn’t hit an artery , he thought as he pulled it out and threw it to the ground. He pulled his left sleeve down, pulled a rag out of his pocket, and then wrapped the rag around the wound. He’d have Moxxie sew it up later. The imp climbed atop the table much to Moxxie’s confusion.
“Sir!” the imp hissed. “What are you doing?”
“Mox, quiet!” Blitzø hissed back. “Put your gun down and keep anyone who comes in out!”
“But sir–”
“Moxxie, that is a direct order!” Blitzø fired back, startling the thespian because of how serious he was. Moxxie, despite his hesitation, did as he was told. Blitzø sighed, pinching his brow in frustration. Why couldn’t anything be simple?
“I’m sorry,” Octavia whimpered, catching Blitzø’s attention. “I didn’t…I just…I lost control.” The girl pulled her legs tighter to her chest. “Please don’t hurt me.”
Blitzø frowned. She was so vulnerable. He could easily take her for ransom then and there. She was lucky that he wasn’t that much of a piece of shit.
“I’m not gonna hurt you kiddo. I promise,” he assured her, crouching down next to her. The imp placed a hand along her shoulder and rubbed it comfortingly. “Besides, I was just looking for an excuse to leave this dump anyway,” he chuckled forcefully. “Look, I’m not good with the whole emotions thing. Just…come here.”
Octavia glanced up into his eyes and into his form. Blitzø had opened his arms to her, his mouth slanted and his eyes slightly impatient. Octavia squinted her eyes in uncertainty to which Blitzø nodded in confirmation.
The young girl hesitated at first, unsure what to make of the stranger’s gesture. However, in a swift movement, the girl bounced from her curled position and wrapped her arms around Blitzø’s waist, sinking her face into his chest and continued crying. Blitzø wrapped one arm around her back and the other was busy softly rubbing the back of her head.
“You’re okay, kiddo. You’re gonna be okay.” This affirmation only seemed to cause Octavia to cry harder into his chest. Blitzø continued rubbing her head soothingly while letting her seek comfort in his form. Soon, she began to quiet down, the tears dropping in their frequency until she stopped crying all together.
“I’m s-sorry for being a burden,” Octavia mumbled.
“You’re not a burden, Octavia,” Blitzø affirmed, the girl’s dejected tone striking a tune with the assassin.
Octavia huffed. “Not according to my mom, I am, and my dad…” Octavia’s grip around his waist tightened. “I don’t know what to think after he just…” The girl shook her head, her breathing jagged and overburdened.
Blitzø gripped her by both shoulders and looked her in the eyes. “Hey, try not to think about that, okay.” Octavia nodded her head, but seemed unsure of herself still.
Blitzø wasn’t sure what to think about the father in question. It wasn’t like he could judge him when he still didn’t know the full story. Maybe her dad really did love her and was just suffering from a really bad case of depression. Maybe it all became too much for him and he snapped. Though he was certain that Octavia’s mother, Stella, was on his Shit List. If she was willing to hurt her own daughter and husband without any remorse, then the bird didn’t deserve any sympathy from him or anyone else for that matter.
“You’re not going to kill my mom, are you?” Octavia asked, her voice tired.
“No, I’m sorry kid. It’s not that I don’t want to help you. I do but you don’t want that on your chest, not even second hand.”
I would know. Thoughts of his mother briefly hung in the back of his head. He wished he could go back to that day and fix his biggest mistake, so that his old family wouldn’t be broken and the person who’d cared for him since birth was still alive. She should be the one to comfort this girl. Not him. At least she would know what to say, how to help her.
Suddenly, Blitzø was drawn out from his mental pity party by the sound of footsteps outside.
“Blitzø!” Millie shouted, running into the office and stopping at the doorway to the conference room. He could see some blood coating her jacket and cheek, indicating that she and Loona were successful in their hunt for the people who vandalized the office. “What’s…going…on?”
The Wrathian imp froze at the sight of her boss and the owl embracing each other. Her head tilted in confusion, one eye narrowing. Behind her, Loona stalked over and noticed the pair’s embrace as well.
“Uhm, what the fuck did we miss?” his daughter asked, eyeing Octavia with a mixture of confusion and a hint of jealousy.
Yeah, he was gonna have a difficult time explaining this to them. At the same time though, he didn’t want to do it here. With all of the broken glass and how dark and depressing the place was, the office was starting to have a suffocating vibe to it, and it certainly wasn’t the right atmosphere to get the girl in front of him to open up.
What to do? What to do?
The imp looked outside through the broken windows for any inspiration. The sight of a familiar billboard that he passed by regularly caused an idea to pop into the former circus imp’s head.
“Anyone up for Wackdonald’s?”