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by killthecake
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shitzo
blood and whiny jesters
[Shiiiiiiit.
Shitshitfuckshit. Shit and then double fuck, and FUCK AGAIN.
How has this happened? This bullshit is why he never comes to the living world; he's a performer, an entertainer, not an action hero! Why did he ever let Blitzø talk him into coming to observe him at work, just so the asshole could show off?
"It's just one job, Fizz. You'll be nowhere near the guns and blood, Fizz. It's totally safe and I'll have you back to your big royal chicken in one piece, Fizz. Don't you want to see the living world at least once in your life, Fizz?"
He is going to punch that dickhead SO HARD when he gets home. Because it will be when, right? Not if. And then he will never ever set foot outside the Lust Ring again, let alone outside of Hell.
It had all happened in a flash of white hot pain and the smell of magic gone wrong, the pages of the Prince's tome fluttering and the spell going awry at the last moment. Instead of a nice safe portal opening from the offices of I.M.P. into whatever part of the living world Blitzø's contract was in, Fizz found himself tumbling through a nauseating vortex of images and sounds that make no sense.
And when it stops things don't get less confusing.
The light is fucking dim, and all he can see is stone before he has to fall to his knees and retch from the sensation of whatever the shit had gone wrong. Urgh. Shakily, he wipes a hand over the back of his mouth, unaware that he's crash-landed straight in front of someone like the weirdest multicoloured unwanted houseguest.]
...Blitzø? Fuck.
[His voice is harsh and raspy, as if he smokes about eighty a day, the bells on his hat jingling when he shifts a bit to try and look around.]
Shitshitfuckshit. Shit and then double fuck, and FUCK AGAIN.
How has this happened? This bullshit is why he never comes to the living world; he's a performer, an entertainer, not an action hero! Why did he ever let Blitzø talk him into coming to observe him at work, just so the asshole could show off?
"It's just one job, Fizz. You'll be nowhere near the guns and blood, Fizz. It's totally safe and I'll have you back to your big royal chicken in one piece, Fizz. Don't you want to see the living world at least once in your life, Fizz?"
He is going to punch that dickhead SO HARD when he gets home. Because it will be when, right? Not if. And then he will never ever set foot outside the Lust Ring again, let alone outside of Hell.
It had all happened in a flash of white hot pain and the smell of magic gone wrong, the pages of the Prince's tome fluttering and the spell going awry at the last moment. Instead of a nice safe portal opening from the offices of I.M.P. into whatever part of the living world Blitzø's contract was in, Fizz found himself tumbling through a nauseating vortex of images and sounds that make no sense.
And when it stops things don't get less confusing.
The light is fucking dim, and all he can see is stone before he has to fall to his knees and retch from the sensation of whatever the shit had gone wrong. Urgh. Shakily, he wipes a hand over the back of his mouth, unaware that he's crash-landed straight in front of someone like the weirdest multicoloured unwanted houseguest.]
...Blitzø? Fuck.
[His voice is harsh and raspy, as if he smokes about eighty a day, the bells on his hat jingling when he shifts a bit to try and look around.]