[ by the time mammon drops him, it's unclear what's going on with fizz, but there's a flat expression on his face and he feels cold. like he's going into shock or something, maybe. he doesn't think that because he's too busy dissociating to try and head off the incoming wrench of more pain.
—but blitzø is there, blitzø is stabbing the absolute fuck out of mammon and fizz topples through midair, too discombobulated to catch himself as he lands in a pile on the ground. he tries to stand but one leg is completely offline while the other sparks dangerously from the treatment mammon gave it. fixable, he hopes, but not something that can be done immediately.
but the one that's just off... he snaps into cognizance again already in the process of trying the little tricks he uses when a leg goes haywire but not broken, smacking it where it connects, twisting it to make sure it's in the right spot. he's not even aware he's crying now, sobbing really, big gulping breaths making his chest hitch over and over.
he just talked a big game about being able to go out by himself and take care of himself and this is immediately what happened. and now blitzø is in danger too! fuck!
he shudders when his severed wing slaps onto the ground in front of the other imp, and he should do so many things, he should fucking grovel so at least he can try to force blitzø to—
—to leave him there.
isn't it funny? isn't it so goddamn motherfucking funny that he wants blitzø to bail on him but he knows now that he won't? fuck! they're both gonna die and it's gonna be fizz's fault!
he starts to laugh suddenly, high-pitched and hysterical, and he drags himself up by using his arms wrapped around a light pole. he wobbles and his legs are at weird, useless angles, but he's not sprawled on the ground. ]
Mammon, I hope that when you die, it's because you got so engrossed in sniffing your wads of cash while jerking off that when you shoot your load and moan out money, you inhale the ████ing bills and choke on them.
we dont judge here
—but blitzø is there, blitzø is stabbing the absolute fuck out of mammon and fizz topples through midair, too discombobulated to catch himself as he lands in a pile on the ground. he tries to stand but one leg is completely offline while the other sparks dangerously from the treatment mammon gave it. fixable, he hopes, but not something that can be done immediately.
but the one that's just off... he snaps into cognizance again already in the process of trying the little tricks he uses when a leg goes haywire but not broken, smacking it where it connects, twisting it to make sure it's in the right spot. he's not even aware he's crying now, sobbing really, big gulping breaths making his chest hitch over and over.
he just talked a big game about being able to go out by himself and take care of himself and this is immediately what happened. and now blitzø is in danger too! fuck!
he shudders when his severed wing slaps onto the ground in front of the other imp, and he should do so many things, he should fucking grovel so at least he can try to force blitzø to—
—to leave him there.
isn't it funny? isn't it so goddamn motherfucking funny that he wants blitzø to bail on him but he knows now that he won't? fuck! they're both gonna die and it's gonna be fizz's fault!
he starts to laugh suddenly, high-pitched and hysterical, and he drags himself up by using his arms wrapped around a light pole. he wobbles and his legs are at weird, useless angles, but he's not sprawled on the ground. ]
Mammon, I hope that when you die, it's because you got so engrossed in sniffing your wads of cash while jerking off that when you shoot your load and moan out money, you inhale the ████ing bills and choke on them.
[ i beg your—i beg your pardon? ]