It's not the first time Blitzø has set foot in Angel's hotel room - since getting to know the leggy spider sinner, he'd invited himself in on more than one occasion, sometimes bringing a drink or several with him, other times just knocking softly on the door to let Angel know he was there if he wanted to talk. By all rights, he shouldn't be feeling this anxious just by being in the room with Angel but... this time it's different.
While he feigns disinterest, the very picture of the collected assassin, his tail betrays his actual mood as it curls through the air like an agitated cat and occasionally circles his legs.
"You really sure about this?" he asks, staring hard at Angel. "'Cause I don't need a pity fuck if you feel like you owe me, and we both know you could pull anyone you fucking wanted in this place with barely any effort."
Which raised the question he can't bring himself to say: why would Angel pick him of all people? The sinner is hot as fuck, manages to somehow be a classy bitch when he wants but has an edge that Blitzø respects, and he holds his own in a fight in a way that's impressive as shit to watch. So to suggest that they do anything when he could literally pick anyone else is just fucking weird.
"And you know, I figured after getting gangbanged by everyone in Val's employ at least twice, you might not be wanting to fuck for a while."
In Blitzø's defence, he'd forgotten that Stolas had needed to move their normal 'appointment' from the night of the full moon again and instead of heading to the goetian prince's estate, had returned to his own apartment. Loona was out again, and while it was nice that she was going out more with other hellhounds, it meant that the place was quieter than he was used to. Even the shitty neighbours weren't arguing for once.
So rather than checking his phone for messages, he'd set it aside and settled in for some good, old fashion binge watching Voxflix. He'd gotten through most of a particularly good romance flick when a fucking portal opened up in his apartment and he was almost immediately face-to-face with a slightly distressed Stolas.
It was then that Blitzø recalled a) that their agreement was tonight and that maybe those messages had been important after all and b) he had definitely been crying over this stupid film and did not look even remotely like the in control stud that he usually was.
"Fuck- I mean... Hiiii Stolas. Listen, I know how this looks--"
The fact that he would wind up facing Striker again one day hadn't escaped Blitzø's thoughts since he'd last beaten the other imp to protect Fizz. It was pretty fucking clear that Striker was carrying a grudge now and after the number of times Blitzø had handed the other hitman his tail, he could hardly blame him.
He would just have preferred it to be at a time that suited him more than this. But alone and without any clear advantage was probably exactly what Striker was after, and exactly what Blitzø had been trying to avoid. He remembered just as well as Striker likely did that during the tournament where they'd first competed, Striker had been stronger overall. In a one-on-one fight, Blitzø didn't imagine he'd come out as well as he had in the past.
So this? Both of them facing off in Wrath, all red dirt and fucking open space and nowhere for him to get easy cover or anything for him to use to his advantage? Fucking sucks.
"The fuck are you waiting for, asshole? I know you've been begging for a chance to get at me, so fucking make a move already!"
A month ago and Blitzø would have thought anyone saying he wouldn't immediately try to murder Striker on sight must have gone a little too hard on the booze available on the Barge. Now... well he wasn't trying to murder Striker anymore, although a good amount of the Barge probably didn't realise it. Truthfully, it was not that different from the Pain Games they'd first competed in after they met. A chance to see which of them were fast or stronger, a chance to let loose with some of the more violent tendencies their kind had.
And fuck if Blitzø didn't need that sometimes, especially after almost a year in this place and no regular hits to take out. So in a way it was an understanding, that either of them could start a fight with the other and know that it didn't mean shit beyond having an outlet.
Plus it made custodial a fuckton more interesting.
He'd been feeling wound up of late too, was pretty sure others close to him could feel it, and so it probably didn't take Striker much by surprise when Blitzø rounded a corner at speed during his shift and launched himself at the other imp with a snarl.
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Angel {addickted}
While he feigns disinterest, the very picture of the collected assassin, his tail betrays his actual mood as it curls through the air like an agitated cat and occasionally circles his legs.
"You really sure about this?" he asks, staring hard at Angel. "'Cause I don't need a pity fuck if you feel like you owe me, and we both know you could pull anyone you fucking wanted in this place with barely any effort."
Which raised the question he can't bring himself to say: why would Angel pick him of all people? The sinner is hot as fuck, manages to somehow be a classy bitch when he wants but has an edge that Blitzø respects, and he holds his own in a fight in a way that's impressive as shit to watch. So to suggest that they do anything when he could literally pick anyone else is just fucking weird.
"And you know, I figured after getting gangbanged by everyone in Val's employ at least twice, you might not be wanting to fuck for a while."
a gift and a treasure!!!
YOU ARE INDEED
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Stolas {noctuagoetia}
So rather than checking his phone for messages, he'd set it aside and settled in for some good, old fashion binge watching Voxflix. He'd gotten through most of a particularly good romance flick when a fucking portal opened up in his apartment and he was almost immediately face-to-face with a slightly distressed Stolas.
It was then that Blitzø recalled a) that their agreement was tonight and that maybe those messages had been important after all and b) he had definitely been crying over this stupid film and did not look even remotely like the in control stud that he usually was.
"Fuck- I mean... Hiiii Stolas. Listen, I know how this looks--"
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Striker {savors}
He would just have preferred it to be at a time that suited him more than this. But alone and without any clear advantage was probably exactly what Striker was after, and exactly what Blitzø had been trying to avoid. He remembered just as well as Striker likely did that during the tournament where they'd first competed, Striker had been stronger overall. In a one-on-one fight, Blitzø didn't imagine he'd come out as well as he had in the past.
So this? Both of them facing off in Wrath, all red dirt and fucking open space and nowhere for him to get easy cover or anything for him to use to his advantage? Fucking sucks.
"The fuck are you waiting for, asshole? I know you've been begging for a chance to get at me, so fucking make a move already!"
oh you gon savor something
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Striker {hick_for_hire}
And fuck if Blitzø didn't need that sometimes, especially after almost a year in this place and no regular hits to take out. So in a way it was an understanding, that either of them could start a fight with the other and know that it didn't mean shit beyond having an outlet.
Plus it made custodial a fuckton more interesting.
He'd been feeling wound up of late too, was pretty sure others close to him could feel it, and so it probably didn't take Striker much by surprise when Blitzø rounded a corner at speed during his shift and launched himself at the other imp with a snarl.
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