A/N: Long time no see, my friends! I spent a few days and can now proudly present the longest chapter yet! Enjoy!
Chapter 12: Turn Me On, Dead Man.
Blitz double checked the mirror as he looked onward in contempt and felt the aged microphone in his hand. It was from a job with a well-known performer. The imp confronted them, got told to leave, and promptly massacred the entire menagerie. Granted, it was an imp menagerie, and the group barely understood who they were trying to lasso in, but now that group of imp's will never try anything ever again.
The microphone shined in the years of use, a plastic sheen almost giving the appearance of brand new. Blitz sighed, and tossed the microphone in his bag. "Guess I keep the shit I keep for a reason, eh?" He said to himself. "Can't fuckin tell me why I think it's a good idea."
"What's a good idea?" Styx asked the imp, wrapping their arms around them from behind. Blitz sighed, failing to hide a smile and placed his hand against the sinner's.
"Anything I do." Blitz said to berate himself. "Carrying sentimental junk, trying to act like I have a career. Nothing works when you're born wrong… or you're not a horse."
"Who needs to be one kind of horse?" Styx asked positively. "Maybe everyone can be a horse, y'know?"
"Certainly feel like one most nights." Blitz said calmly.
"Blitz!" Styx exclaimed as they released their compassionate grip.
"Mornings, too."
"Blitz!!!"
"Fuck me, especially near you." The imp deviously grinned at their partner, his eyes now glowing with desire. It was a look Styx had grown very familiar with, and one which had them blushing against their cheeks before sheepishly looking the other way. Blitz went against this action and gently caressed a finger into bringing the sinner's head back for their eyes to connect. The staring contest was interrupted by a tongue, followed by another, and it two soon pulled each other before Styx nicely broke it off, leaving the imp with a saddened look in their eyes for more.
"Aw, man. I was just gonna start using this new technique!" Blitz said disapprovingly of their partners actions.
"You just got done using a new one last night and now you're already learning new ways to do things to me?" Styx asked amusingly.
The imp shrugged, pulling Styx in close with one arm. "Yeah. Is that okay?"
"It's very okay." Styx cooed as they stroked the imp's chest. "But you know you can talk to me about more, right? Not just to mirrors and microphones?"
"It's not that easy." Blitz said barely above a whisper. "You get fucked in the proverbial ass enough times, you stop remembering how it feels without it. Basic kindness kinda just does that."
"It fucks you In the… ass." Styx trailed, releasing themselves from Blitz's dropped grip but continuing to hold hands. The imp nodded at the statement, and was giving a kiss on the cheek by their sinner. The ink returned the mark on their neck, recieving a few stuffled noises.
"You just kinda, I dunno. Learn to not do shit?" Blitz said. "Never really need anyone else. All the other bitches who tried to step on me ended up dead. Not by me, I just know from people. But they're still dead. I'm still here."
Blitz looked in the mirror again, only now witnessing a reflection of a sorry story, crafted out of mismatched puzzle pieces trying to be pieced together by the kindness of another. A sinner, nonetheless. The imp blushed out of embarrassment for themselves and disliking sinners, but secretly held the sentiment for the ones he did know. He pulled up the sleeves of his sweatshirt, borrowed like everything else. Feelings of struck Blitz in his nerves for submitting to what many consider a sign of weakness, but it was just… being normal, even if it felt otherwise.
"You're thinking again." Styx teased. "Stop doing that. Trust me, you and I both know how awful it can be."
"I didn't know you did. Ignoring them doesn't get rid of the problems." Blitz retorted.
"I do. Survived a while when I got here. Ignoring them a little does it quieter." Styx said before checking their phone and rummaging through the wardrobe. "Hey, I almost forgot the bar reopened yesterday. Weird that Leroy wouldn't call me, especially since we're, like, what, two days out from the purge? You wanna go?"
The imp crossed their arms before sitting on the couch, appearing a combination of upset and uncomfortable. This was followed by Styx lending a comforting hand into Blitz's palm.
"You wanna get fucked up right before the one day you need to stay the fuck inside?" The imp asked nonchalantly. "Sounds like something I'd do."
"Come-on, it's just Leroy's place. Right down the road! You never know what's gonna happen next year. Might be a great time."
Blitz stood rather abruptly and threw his arms beside himself. "Might also be a problem. No, correction: A pile of problems, wrapped with a bow made out of other problems. What if you get hurt? What if Scalie and Catboy show up again? I don't fuckin need to tell you -"
Styx ended the imp's lamenting with a kiss, with Blitz returning a blush before turning away looking concerned for them both. Silence moved slowly and painfully through the rooms, like the tip of a sword being torn across stone. The two returned to the couch before lying down on their backs in an embrace.
"What gets to you, Blitz?" Styx asked softly.
"What about you?" Blitz returned with the same affections. "I'm usually the one looking to get fucked up, babe. You're the one trying not to have sex under bridges. Why the rush?"
"I've got my moments." Styx said bubbly as they rested against their partner. "Also, you almost did have it under that bridge, Mister Big Imp Dick."
"As much as I won't stop you from talking about how big my dick is, this is kind of a serious question. Why the rush?"
"What rush?" Styx asked. "It's not a rush, it's a hangout."
"After not wanting to do shit with me?"
Styx frowned. "Blitz, I told you to stop thinking about that stuff."
Blitz returned a deeper grimace of his actions, closing his eyes at the mention of his loathing. A time of reflection never worked with the imp. Any chance of collecting his thoughts was usually interrupted by gunfire or shouting, often associated with him. All he could do was sigh. Styx lifted themselves to sit with Blitz between their legs, brushing hair out of their eyes, and Blitz stared. Their eyes were sky blue with a crystalized shimmer. The hint of pupils dotted the inside in the form of a light blue dot, so close in transparency and temperature to the eyes that they almost appeared to feature a thin layer across them. None would be the wiser if the sinner walked past him, only for those who got to know them. Blitz thought as he continued to watch, thinking about his own eyes, and the firery yellow and angry red features that rested within. The imp remembered the saying about eyes - They were the gateway to the soul. It was the only hole Blitz had never thought about, being so different as a hellborn. He admired the subtle illuminations of the duo staring down one another reflecting across the dimly lit apartment.
"Hey." Styx greeted.
"Hi." Blitz answered.
"I think you and I need to go out and get fucked up." The sinner smiled.
Blitz sighed as he returned the looks of his subconscious. He appeared to think deeply in silence. "Yeah, probably."
Styx smiled, and the two gathered themselves for preparing for the evening. Blitz replaced his comfortable sleeping pants with a more practical and sluttier set of shorts. Styx chose to mirror the imp and returned with a different colored sweatshirt and shorts. The two smiled at each other before departing for their fateful night.
Leroy stood behind his bar as usual, with business slowly returning when people forgave the incident, and needing to forget that it happened through a drink. The remaining tables of the bar were sorted out and assembled around the empty space increased by the previous altercations. Leroy believed alcohol was a damning system, yet he was the one pushing it forward. Gresha rested her head on the counter with a pouty face as her eyes began to lose focus from the influence.
"Gresha." Leroy said. "I know you understand your limits, but I've never seen one person get so much in their system during the first half of Happy Hour. You understand why I cut you off."
The sad canine nodded and adjusted to allow green hair to cover her eyes.
"Don't be sad that I stopped you." The bartender declared. "It's the friends who will let you do it that you gotta worry about. Remember when Silent O accidentally mixed my vodka with tequila and he laughed so loud that it scared children across the street?"
Gresha returned from her sour mood and nodded gracefully, her grin spreading across her face. She let out a giggle followed by a hiccup.
Leroy chuckled halfheartedly. "Ah, here I am talking like we've known the son of a bitch for years. It's only been what, a week? Sheesh, things sure can change quickly around here."
"Tellmeaboutit." Gresha said poorly but excitedly. "Fuckin, uh, I've been in so many fights this week! Like two! And then a few more! I've never been more than a two!"
"We have been getting into some trouble this week." Leroy said. "First Silent O showing up, and the the married couple decided they wanted to tear up my bar. It takes a lot to make a living, I know, but this? This is a little too much."
"Ssssssfuckin more than a little." Gresha added wilfully. "It's a lot! When is enough, enough? We gotta do something about it!"
"I'm not sure we can." Leroy said. "Besides, business still works. I've got our act back tonight. Whole band and everything."
Gresha gasped before hastily releasing the alcoholic contents of the night in the conveniently placed trash bin, then returning to the conversation. ", Fucking shit, dude. I had no idea you could do anything!"
"Me neither." Leroy added, looking off to the side. "Was gonna ask River and their, uh… partner, but I've been holding off on that. Not sure what to think about everything going so quickly for them, and for us."
"Why ?" Gresha asked curiously. "My girlfriend and I have been together for a long time and I fell in love the moment I met her until she destroyed my heart last month!"
"That is mighty sweet, my dear." Leroy said. "The first part, anyhow. Still, ain't there usually time to get to know one another? Figure out your similarities and your woes? Imp could be trying to pull a fast one, is all I'm saying. Hell, maybe Styx has been playing a game too after the whole Fornication Incident with the two sharpshooters. I make fun pretty harsh sometimes, but I don't hate what people are. I just dislike what they can be."
"Blitz isn't some kind of spy, dude." Gresha said, laying upside down on the bar. "Styx, neither. It's probably just being sad and uh…. Lonely, right? Just two dudes, trying to find another dude to do dude things with. Then two penises get together and bam, gay shit."
"So, what, people just… already know each other enough before they meet?"
"Phhhhssssssh fuckin yeah." Gresha said. "Hehehehe exactly what I said."
"Not gonna lie, Green Hair, I like how you cut it." Blitz said, causing Leroy and the titular green-haired wolf to suddenly turn heads to him and Styx now joining them at the bar. The bartender stayed the most silent at Gresha looked on happily with her tail moving frantically. "Needs more gay shit in there, though."
"Yeah it does!" Gresha exclaimed before refusing to elaborate.
Blitz smiled before his attention turned to the bartender. "Hey, what, the caterpillar jokes finally get a hold of you? Come-on, L, what's the sudden aggression about?"
"No aggression, Blitz." Leroy assured. "Just going through the recovery phase of my emotions after the whole fight happened... and what happened after."
"I get it." Styx said "Emotions are so- Wait, what happened after?"
Leroy stared in irritability. Blitz stared in aggression. Styx stared in confusion. Everyone in the group was staring and not having a good time. Sounds of distant laughter and clashing of glasses could be heard through the quiet cowls of emotional snarling.
"You mean us." Blitz said. "Actually you mean me. You're worried about Daddy Imp Dick getting it on too much with Slick Tits Styx, is that it?"
Leroy showed visible disgust as he poured the group drinks. The usual for Styx and Blitz, where Gresha got water. "Just trying to understand how quickly relationships can flourish these days, is all, Silent O."
Blitz looked at his drink thoroughly before downing half the glass in a burning sensation of spite, and the sensations of alcohol burning down the wrong pipe. The imp coughed violently but briefly before returning to normal, much to a concerned Styx.
"Fuckin, let me tell you about the Silent O shit." Blitz said. "You call me Silent O, but the O is literally silent. You're announcing the part that isn't supposed to be announced."
"It's a joke." Leroy returned.
Blitz lifted himself off his bar stool and leaned in towards the bartender. "Look, if we got issues, Dicksenballsen, be my fucking guest. I love to hear what other people think of me."
Styx placed a hand on the imp, causing Blitz to return to the seat after the longest seconds of consideration he ever had.
"Leroy, I get it, but he's not corrupting me or anything." Styx chimed in.
"Corrupting?" Blitz asked.
"You, I'm fine with." Leroy stated with a scruff stare down of Blitz. "It's the red one I'm worried about."
"Lotta people think I'm red with white stripes but I'm actually white with red stripes." Blitz said, forcing Styx to shove a laugh down their throat. "Gets a lot of the men confused when I hypnotize them with the dick spiral."
"The... the what?" Leroy asked in stumped irritability.
Blitz shook his head. "Nevermind it. Point is, I ain't the evil scum you think I am. Believe it or not, us imp's have feelings too and I think you oughta learn that, Mister Loud L."
"Is that so?" Leroy leaned in, recieving a flash of teeth from Blitz. Styx turned and ignored the following tripe of insults which flower freely from the duo and looked on towards the stage. A full set of music equipment stood, and the largest drum held the band name: Stolen Viper. The sinner tilted their head and thought about the implications before heading off while Gresha followed with a similar head tilt. They found the singer leaning against the wall behind the stairs out of sight, arms crossed with white eyes and pin-pricked red irises that spoke about discontent with the world- Styx knew it well, and the duo approached their sulking character.
"You the singer?" Styx asked with a small friendly grin.
"No, the fuckin drummer." The slender figure snapped before releasing a cough mixed with a laugh. "Kidding. Yeah that's me. Name's Reese. Nice to meet you."
"Styx, as jn the river. Nice to meet you." Styx greeted.
"I'm Gresha!" The wolf answered. "As in, uh... me!"
"Right on." Reese formed a dopey toothy smile. "Being named after yourself. Being an inspiration. I like it."
Gresha gasped. "Woah, you understand that shit? Dude I've been trying to say that for years! You gotta be an inspiration to yourself before you are yourself."
Reese nodded. "Exactly, Green. It's not about the war, it's about the time spent in the trees."
"Not to interrupt but I had a question about your name." Styx piped up. "Sounds a lot like my old band's name. We used snakes, too, and I was curious how you came about it."
Reese took a long drag of a cigarette as their whiskers stuttered. "Shit, Tingler would have to tell you the whole story. He's our drummer."
"Fuckin Tingle-"
"But I memorized most of it! Basically when we were alive, there was this, like, snake that I kept as a pet, right? Well one day, he gets out, and the neighbors just happened to dislike snakes, and I never saw him after that. Kept on telling my folks, but nobody would do anything, y'know? Anyway, I finally learned how to pick locks from school and looked in my neighbor's basement door from the outside, and lo and behold, man. My fucking snake Monty."
"Dang." Styx said. "You stole your snake back and that's why you chose Stolen Viper?"
"Nah." Reese answered. "I wanted to call us The Python Snatchers, but Tingler thought it was a shit name. Said we should be Stolen Valor instead. So, like gentlemen, we compromised and took Stolen Viper. A viper is kinda like a python but more deadly."
"That's what my mom says I am." Gresha added.
Reese smiled. "Venemous. My favorite constellation."
"I don't think it's that stupid of a name." Styx piped up in a suddenly unexplained moment of forcefulness. "Honestly your version is pretty damn good. Really good, actually."
"Yeah? You use a snake themed name while alive or something?"
Styx crossed their arms as they relaxed their stance. "I did, and we did pretty fucking good. Even got to play opening of Shockshop '02 as our third gig."
The singer's eyes suddenly went wide, quickly putting out their cigarette as to not drop it on the rug. "No fuckin way. You're from THE Snake Stealers? The ones at Shockshop who played the hard industrial shit that made me trip really hard and make me wanna start my own band? The Snake Stealers that everyone forgot about? You're THAT Styx?"
Styx sighed. "You don't have to be an ass, I was just saying that -"
"Nah, man. You're not getting me." Reese told almost energetically. "I'm serious. River Styx and the Snake Stealers was my shit, dude. That and Robert's Thrash Orchestra, but he ended up doing a lot of bad shit. What are you doing down here, man?"
"Ah, shit." Styx swore,. rubbing their neck in a cluster expression. "Just boring acoustic stuff to pass eternity. Fuck, didn't think to meet my old band's only fan tonight."
"I didn't think I'd meet the most important unimportant nobody musician in my past life tonight either." Reese smiled. His statement was presumably a compliment to Styx, and they took it as such through the scented smoke that was now causing them to feel off. "Say, anyone else here with you? Snake Stealers getting a second chance down here?"
"Nah." Styx smiled as they pocketed their hands. "Just here with my boyfr-er, partner, is all. I play here every now and then."
"Dude, you should totally get on backup guitar and jam with us. Playing one of the oldies tonight. From the band Valhalla. You know them?"
"'The best underappreciated early grunge band?'" Styx piped up. "Can't fuckin forget them."
"Right on, old timer." Reese said. "We're playing from their old rehearsal tapes back in the late eighties."
"That's fucking old school." Styx said amazed, their smile now on full display. "I know every single one."
"Fuck yeah!" Reese exclaimed before pumping a fist into the air. "Old school being played by old school and slightly younger school! We got an extra guitar, this is gonna be the shiniest fucking shit, man! Uh, it's in the case over there on the left."
Styx smiled, turning to Gresha who was now almost glowing in anticipation. The sinner nodded before heading to the side of the singer and resting a typical guitar case on the table. Styx clipped the locks opened and stared down in all. A green sunburst guitar looked back, complete with black pickguard and dagger-pointed handle grips that tapered down into a curved bottom portion. All of the places where chrome would be had been outfitted in matte black. It was unanimously familiar yet unrecognizable to the sinner. They picked up the guitar and slid their hand down the finished wood, admiring the craftsmanship. The design felt like a physical flame; An unstoppable force of aggression that told you how hot it was by the color and it's black accents appearing as burns across a corner. It was very mean, and Styx liked it. They played a few riffs without it plugged in, feeling the rush of no limits fall across their arms and into the veins as the tuners were adjusted. On the inside, Styx was beaming with energy and ideas of elated wrongdoings.
"Looks like you were fuckin made to hold it." Reese said. "You uh, need practice or anything?"
An almost insulted chuckle escaped Styx before walking towards the guitar strap and fastening it around the guitar and the sinner themselves. "It's River Styx, Reese. They don't need practice for Valhalla."
"I think valhalla would work better if it wasn't showing ownership in the sentence, man." Reese said.
"How the fuck could you tell I was being possessive?" Styx asked, stunned.
"Lots of vitamins." Rheese said, and the two musicians took their arrival behind stage with the rest of the group. Meanwhile, Blitz and Leroy were currently intoxicated more than an imp and owner of a bar should be, quietly engaging in conversation with solemn expressions.
"Nah, you're fine." Leroy said. "I'm pretty intoxicated now, though and I think that you're just fine. Not good or great, but fine. Just don't do anything to River and I don't have any problems with you."
"My ass is full of problems!" Blitz exclaimed at the abrupt foreclosure of their statement. "Dicks, bad one nights, more ass - None of it stays 'cause I don't want it to. No fucking thing I need gets left behind. It's why I'm a sad young adult with sad dreams with weird wizards."
"The fucking what now?" Leroy asked with a surprised look from the imp for the swearing. "You see the wizard too?"
Blitz eyes suddenly went wide as he climbed over the bar like a possum. "Finally someone who understands! Who the fuck is he? How can I get rid of him? What is the correct temperature to toast bread?"
"I don't know and that last one is a personal thing." Leroy said. "He's been in my dreams recently, though. That's kinda why I've been all over the place. First the dreams and now the hired guns, I'm not playing with whatever's about to happen, Silent O, and I hope you at least stick around long enough to see it though before you go."
Blitz leaned back in confusion. "The fuck you mean by that? What, I come from a race of good-for-nothing crime worshipping lower class of Hell and the fucking salty seconds of sinners aren't the ones needing to settle down?"
"Maybe not, Silent O." Leroy said. "Maybe not."
Blitz stared. The air of the room changed on a whim, and the lights dimmed in place for the spotlights of the stage. There stood Reese, and to the surprise of the imp there was their partner as well, getting ready with the guitar as Gresha began her cheering prematurely to the shagrin of bystanders. A larger, stout sinner took the drums, and another held the bass.
"Fuckin yeah, everyone!" Reese shouted through the microphone. "We've got a special night! It's day two!"
Half of the crowd cheered, the other half remained silent.
"Fuckin Styx is here!" The singer continued. "You all don't know him, heh, and we don't know each other, kinda, but we know some of the same songs from when we were alive! So me and this son of a grunge are gonna grab guitars and play some Valhalla!"
Before Blitz could form a response, the lights fully dimmed other than the stage, and the bar was suddenly filled with the sounds of adolescent despair. Strings of distorted memories and flavorful regrets flooded the ears of all, including those who did not have any. The imp in particular stood and quickly disappeared into the crowd, leaving a buzzed Leroy at the now desolate bar, thinking about life.
Drums boomed, bass held the rhythm, and guitars clashed in aggression at the other side of the hill. A towering sea of all different kinds of sinners covered Blitz as he fought to the surface. Flashing lights disoriented the imp, however he powered on before finally being struck by a stray passerby and being forever lost in the mosh pit. The band entered the first high point of the song, and as Reese hit a falsetto, he gave the floor to Styx, who sent the strings into a bend that would have them begging for mercy, unleashing a cry of desperation through the speakers and into the sensations of the masses. Blitz looked on in awe, as if he had just seen himself in the mirror for the first time again.
The imp began to panic. His breathing raced with his heart before he found himself at the front of the stage with his arm being grabbed by Styx before the sinner lifted him up. The imp quietly thanked his partner.
"Fucking alright!" Reese shouted through the noise. "We got boyfriends! Hey Styx, show this hellborn how we did it back then!"
Styx looked at his partner and obliged, shifting into a fast and rapid build up that resulted in a session of loud, uneventful power chords interrupted and followed by a drum beat. Styx leaned into the mic:
"Gonna make you feel it. Gonna make you tired of me.
Gonna make you sorry. Gonna make you wish you never met me!"
Blitz was hot, and it was not just the temperatures of being in Hell. He abruptly grabbed onto the microphone without missing a beat, and the duo began to sing as Reese provided backup.
"I'm so fucking tired of us.
Just let me go!
I'm so fucking ready to die.
Just let me go!"
Styx brushed his strings. A pause was followed by an aggressive and sudden return to the riff.
"Never talk to me again!
Forget how I met you.
I don't need time to explain.
Just only my resignation."
Reese broke into a guitar solo. The crowd was chanting their names. Even if Blitz wasn't involved, he was having a great time and considered listening to Styx much quicker about going out next time. The crowd began to chant about kissing and Blitz and Styx blushed as they realized that they had been staring at one another and Reese had been prolonging the solo. With a final stare and no other words, Styx set the guitar on it's stand and immediately grabbed their partner by the hips before pulling the imp in for the deepest and longest kiss they had ever shared. Blitz returned the favor and closed his eyes. The crowd cheered, and Reese went back into song as Styx picked up the guitar and continued to sing with the imp. In the days leading up to tonight, the duo were often unsure about themselves, let alone gun wielding mercenaries and almost having sex under bridges.
Somewhere in between, however, they felt like they had know each other forever, and the band played on as their bond became stronger.
--
A/N: This was going to be much longer but, I mean, it's already 5k words so let's call it for today. Apologies for any errors but I did what I could for now. Thank you for the slow but appreciated increase in attention, and I'll see you next chapter! It'll be a part two in technicality.
- Jay