The Impish Heart

Beelzebub Honeysuckle, and the side effects of the morning after.

Driving from Lust to Gluttony in the gloomy night. After getting a phone call from his daughter, asking to be picked up. With a pounding headache behind his eyes. Blitzo had grabbed his jacket and headed out into the cold night. Now, after being conned into a night on the town. Blitzo sat idoly back at the bar, desperately trying to forget
About the thrumming heartache and the previous evening.

The House of Asmodeus left a sour, bitter taste in his mouth. He vaguely remembered the phone call, the long drive and the low Aussie accent asking them if they could stay for a drink. "One drink, just one Loony, and then straight home!" But that one drink quickly turned into two, snowballing in three. Until he had lost count all together.

He spun in his swivel chair at the bar where he could see the venue. Someone out there was providing him with free alcohol tonight, and he wasn't complaining. He was willing to suck the dick, I mean, thank the imp responsible for allowing him to drown his sorrows in high tier liquor and a bottomless supply of alcohol, but as he scanned the crowd no singular imp stood out amongst the throng.

His gaze fell upon his daughter, who was in a large circular booth, with a bunch of hellhounds spilling over. As a server places a punch bowl in front of them, along with some appetizers. Aster was matching them, shot for shot. While Loona was slowly nursing on a drink, her eyes intensely focused on her father.
Who looked out of place, she was so deep in her own thoughts until a hellhound brought her out of her daze and back into a conversation. Laughter erupted from the booth.

Blitzo could only shake his head, as his gaze went back to roaming the bar, he considered nine possibilities as to who his mysterious supplier was.
"That could be him, '' he thought with a slight purr, eyeballing a tall muscular imp with short ivory hair and coal black eyes, that sent a shiver down his body as the locked gazes.
"I wouldn't mind tapping that, '' he smirks, smiling around the glass of Belzebub Honey. The nectar was addictive, similar to Belzebub juice, but sweeter, toned down.
It was a creeper. His eyes roamed over the crowd landing upon another with serpent-like features, short blood wine hair, and deep electric green eyes bore into his as a thick irish accent rose up from the crowd.

A few burly imps, reminded him of the bouncer back in the Lust Ring. Blitzo's mood sours as his heart twinges while licking the golden residue from his lips and the stained glass painted to look like a beehive. A lump forms in his throat which he swallows, he needs to forget about Stolas. His only goal for tonight, was to go home sloshed with no recollection of this night, Then he could pretend none of this ever happened.
He downs another drink before resting his head against his arm, the buzz he felt was amazing.

The Bartender looks at him with a worried frown upon her face, setting a glass of water down in front of him. "On the house" she says. Blitz looks up, his eyes feel like their bleeding, swimming in misery. And, for a heart stopping moment Blitzo stilled as the bartender reminded him of his sister.
"Will this night, turned awkward fast" he thought as his mouth ran dry, her voice was deeper, more motherly which brought him out his drunken stupor. "Whatever it is, that is bothering ya, it'll get better, sugar." Blitzo gives her a broken hearted smile as he takes the glass sipping on it. Another glass of Beelebub honey was placed before him along with three long necked bottles of smooth bourbon whiskey.
"Or maybe sugar-cube, I'll catch you" Striker purrs while slowly approaching the bar. Blitzo was out of Loona line of vision. The city- imp raised an eyebrow. "It's a small world after all Blitzy"

A rough night, for the boss, Bossman?" striker asks, while glancing at his disheveled appearance. "Heh, that disty blueblood bail on ya?" "Then, Darlin, you're in good company tonight. Drink with me, let's make amends and start over" the cowboy insists. While pouring himself another glass and topping off Blitzo's.
" What's your game Cowboy?'' blitzo asks, suddenly turning to face Striker.
"Well, I'm still in the market for a partner, and between you and me, Blitz, the way your vermin called me partner, left an almost bitter, rancid taste in my mouth, my heart is set on you, and cannot be swayed. "You have all the criteria I am looking for in a partner, I want to pick up where we left off at the festival, and most importantly Blitzy, I want my answer.

These past few months have given me time to think, and I've come to a decision. I want more than just a partnership from you he purrs. His tail wrapped around Blitzo's waist pulling the devil in closer to him. The legs of the chairs screech against the marbled flooring.
Blitzo's answer is drowned out, as the Cowboy shoots a scathing look over Blitzo's shoulder to an approaching imp with a deadly look in his eyes. Striker's eyes narrowed into slit, as his arm slid around Blitzo's waist silently warning the muscular imp, surly a son of a farmer to stay away from this one. This one was his. Golden eyes narrowed into deadly slits as the cowboy twisted his wrist, quietly revealing his holstered revolvers that rested at his hips.
Revolvers that held an ethereal light to them, they were surrounded by an ivory glow.

The imp with the broad chest took a step back, as if reconsidering. The Cowboy could hear him muttering under his breath a slew of foul words that would make a sailor blush. Striker smirks at another silent victory. He turns his attention back to the Boss imp.
"What in Lucifer are you saying!" "you inbred hick, how many brain cells do you have?, are you drunk?. "I can handle my liquor partner," Striker reassures.
"You want me to marry you, Blitz Slurs. "Only so you can get your claws on Stolas"
"You want to marry me, '' Blitz says again. Half joking, there was a somber edge to his voice: like what lurked beneath the surface was a torrent of a storm.

"If that is what it takes, to have you by my side, and keep you all to my little ol self" replies the Cowboy replacing the Belzebub honey, with another bottle of whiskey and a shot of burning tequila before signaling the bartender for two more drinks..