Blitzo's Duster
Helluva Boss and all characters therein are owned by Vivienne Medrano and Spindlehorse.
OCs are my own
This story deals with familial loss
-x-
Young Blitzo walks through the circus grounds. Clouds of ash billow around his feet with every step. His boots are almost white now. He comes here every day. Looking for what, he can't say.
He visited Fizzerolli's tent first. Looking for any of his favorite things that could be salvaged. Charred supports and ash gifted him nothing. Nothing that Blitzo could take to Fizz to proove he was trying. That he was sorry.
After that, the order of tents didnt really matter.
He viewed the big top. More charred supports. What was left of the seating mocked him as whisps of green smoke leaked from under the warm surface of the few remaining coals.
Walking through what was the interior, he tripped over the twisted metal of the center ring. Blitzo stood and stared at the iron wedged into the ground. It looked barely like a train rail now. He recalls that it was originally taller.
He looked around. A burned pole stood at an angle, determinedly holding the remnants of a tightrope. Just a short time earlier his sister had danced accross that wire in front of hundreds, as light on her feet in the air as she was on the ground. He tracked the wire back down to the floor where it swam smoothly above and below the ash as it made its way accross the open space.
A glint from accross the ring catches his eye. He follows the light. He kneels down and unearths his finding.
A tear escapes his eye as he recognizes the item.
So this is where she was when Barbie found her. She was probably working on a suprise for Fizz. She was sick, but always tried to do nice things for the kids.
She just... wasnt able to handle this.
His mothers necklace was made of red corundum. Strong in the human world, indestructible in hell. She had it her whole life. Before the circus. Before his father. Before Blitzo and Barbie Wire were even a concept.
He would never give this up.
He would kill before he'd let it go.
He continued on.
He passed Feela and June's tent. The hellbeast trainers. Feela and June had met here. June had been in the audience and had later begged to be let in as Feela's apprentice. Feela agreed and found her person in the process.
Blitzo stood at the iron gate of the paddock. The structure was burnt, but still stood. The horses had had a real stable. Blitzo had begged his dad to build it. For months he tried to convince him. He spent so many sleepless nights trying to keep them dry in hells acid rain. Covering them with blankets when something so insane happened in the human world that the chill made him believe hell could actually freeze over.
Fizzerolli finally threatened to run away from the circus if Cash didnt have it built. Fizz was always a crowd draw and he knew it. The sweet Imp would only flex that power to the ringmaster when he felt strongly about something. That time the something was Blitzo.
He noticed a loose horseshoe in the dirt and picked it up. From its size he guessed it was Orcadian's. Orcadian was his first horse... the circus' first horse. Later Epona and Stapler were added.
He missed them.
They had escaped harm but with no circus to house them, they had been sold off. Knowing his dad they had probably been seperated from each other. Cash Buckzo always put profit over all other things. Even family.
Blitzo trudged forward. The wind swirled ash accross the site. He was so fully covered from horn to hoof with the white-gray powder you could no longer tell where exactly he was scarred.
This. This is what he had been both eager and afraid to see. Tilla's tent. Home. This tent was singed but intact. A dusty red beacon in a desert of mistakes.
Blitzo lifted the flap and walked in. It was dark. The stale air smelled damp. Pictures of his family were scattered accross the floor. His whole family. Tilla was mom to everyone here. He noticed things were missing. Her costumes, her collection of horse figurines, her netherwood desk. Everything his dad probably thought he could make a quick buck from.
Blitzo walked further into the tent. Small dots of sunlight dappled the floor where floating embers had made their way through the canvas. A dark shape in the far corner came into focus. Blitzo became nervous. Did something else manage to die here? He slowly stepped over the photos to inspect the lump. He crouched down and reached out toward it. A sob eacaped Blitzo as he pulled the pile out of the corner. He knows this. He stood up, clutching it to his chest. Tilla's Duster.
"Mama"
Blitzo sobs into the coat. He's so happy Cash left it behind. Of course the money hungry Imp would see no value in it. It was old, the hem tattered from years of riding. Blitzo put it on. He didnt care that it was dirty. He didnt care that it was torn. He loved his mother. No other person loved him like Tilla. Laughed at his awful jokes like Tilla. Encouraged his love of horses like Tilla. Comforted his fears quite like Tilla.
Blitzø buttoned the coat and put the horseshoe in one pocket and his hand in the other. There was something else there. Another gift from her. Blitzø pulled out a black silk ribbon. The one she had used to pull her hair back when she rode. He smiled, wiped his eyes and threaded the silk through the hole in the back of the corundum skull pendant. He tied the necklace around his neck. Her warmth washed over him. Forvever protecting him.
Some Imps believe that if a hellborn dies they are born as a human to traverse a tormented life in that world. Some believe their spirit inhabits an inanimate object of significance to their life.
Blitzø wonders if the latter is true given the peace he suddenly feels wearing Tillas things.
He also wonders if his desire to connect to his lost mother is manifesting things that arent real.
He's not sure he cares.
He has found something good from his previous life and, for now, it is enough.