#fzrlli

@fzrlli​ : fizz vc bites you bites you bites y-

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She warned you.

@fzrlli sent: “ you again ? did you not learn your fuckin’ lesson last time y’ came to lust ? or did your date with your little prince go so well that you decided to come visit again ? “ / blitzo because i love annoying them <3

The familiar voice, even if it wasn't the same he had been used to hear in his childhood, caused Blitzo to growl quietly under his breath. It wasn't just the words that had been spoken, but also the tone his former friend had used. Mocking, almost smug.

His tail whipped the air once in frustration at jab about his "date" with Stolas. Everyone who had been there night knew well that it had been a disaster, basically a public humiliation for both him and the Prince. However, he wasn't going to give Fizzarolli the satisfaction to see just how tender that particular nerve still was.

"I'm notoriously stubborn, as you should know," he bites back with a grin that it's the opposite of friendly. "And what lesson? It takes more than some fuckin' mockery to scare me off."

All considered, it wasn't even a lie. The hit at his ego, and also at a softer part of him he did his best to ignore these days, had been a hard one, but he had made a living off pretending to have an uncrushable self-esteem.

"I can stand my ground on my own. I don't need to rely on my boss or go hiding behind them, unlike someone else."

A jab for a jab. Two could play that game. Not to mention that he was hoping to distract the other Imp enough not to make him notice that he had completely ignored his question.

@fzrlli sent: “ you gave me a concussion , you know . “ / Millie because he has . things to Say .

Millie scowled at the statement and she crossed her arms, turning her head on one side, chin rose in defiance. Was he seriously? He had just basically ambushed her and now he was complaining about her fighting back?

...Well, maybe her reaction had been a little too strong, but she still wasn't sorry at all. She remembered far too well what had happened at Ozzie's, on the day of her wedding anniversary, and if he hadn't deserved the hit this time, he surely did for how she and Moxxie had been treated that night.

"Ya'll live. I didn't hit ya that hard," she huffed, shooting Fizzarolli an unimpressed glance that spelled out the "wimp" she hadn't said out aloud.

❛❛     anyone    who    𝑰𝑺𝑵'𝑻 𝒀𝑶𝑼 ,       that's    who .     ❜❜

Night on lust. What an exciting scene. Clubs and brothels as far as the eye can see. Roth wasn’t here for that, or for work. He was here on his own accord, for his own reasons. His criminal hobby.

Dressed in black, he pulled his balaclava over his face. His horns still showed, along his bright yellow eyes. His bag was ready, with basic tools for his job. He knew his target, his knew where to break in.

Roth by no means was a master criminal. He was terrible really.  But sometimes, he struck gold with his crimes. Stealing from apartments or outright mugging people. It brought some extra cash in. Some mad money to buy that next stereo or ancient tome.

Now he was aiming higher. The place he was casing seemed nice and ready for the pickings. He never saw the owner, but that barely concerned him.

Across the rooftops, Roth snuck his way towards the place. The pad seemed deserted, with nobody home. Good. Roth thought to himself.

Moving towards a window, Roth grabbed his crowbar. He started prying against the window, adjusting his strength. Finally, the window opened. Placing his crowbar away, Roth slipped in. He was in the bathroom. A nice place, almost excessive in it’s elegance. Typical, the cab driver thought.

He moved towards the door and entered into the penthouse. It was everything he imagined. All sorts of valuables that he could profit from. No pawnshop in Hell could deny these wonderful trinkets. Roth got to work. He was not picky in his selections. Whatever looked valuable, he took.

“I die. That’s not even the worst part.”

{ Roth sounded positively cynical and forlorn. Yet, despite the dread, he still carried his sarcasm. With just a touch of caustic enthusiasm. }

{ Standing in the snow, he cocked his head at the jester. Out of all celebrities in Hell, he was stuck with him. This would be anyone’s dream. Fantasy even. But Roth loathed him. Then again, he loathed anyone remotely famous. Jealousy thrived. }

“Listen, Fizzarolli, I’m just a normal sinner. My best days are spent drunk on absinthe, covered with pretzel crumbs. While watching reruns of Red Skeleton.”

{ Roth pointed at the jester, while sneering at him. His frustration was spreading like electricity through his nerves. His stomach grew tight with anger. }