Chapter Text
Blitz wasn’t often early. But, on occasion, when the morning light was bright enough to filter through the dirty window panes of the third-rate hedge inn he had crashed at the night before, he would rouse himself at a reasonable hour and begrudgingly find himself ahead of schedule.
As such he did today.
Gathering his handful of items from around the room, Blitz was sure to make plenty of noise. Why should the snoring cocksucker in the other bed get to sleep after keeping him up half the night? He was always so unlucky with room assignments. He was unlucky with most things.
Ducking out just as the roommate launched a shoe at his head, Blitz flipped the other imp off before slamming the door shut behind himself.
Ready to head out of the inn and off on his walk, Blitz checked the scrap of paper once again to make sure he knew where he was going. There was a familiar, dull ache in his stomach, and he lit a cigarette to distract himself until he could swipe some bread or any other unattended food on his way over. It was a long walk, after all.
After making his way out of downtown Pridewood and through the woods that bordered town, it was already late morning as Blitz walked down a long, wide road. As he finished the last of his day-old pastry (bakeries always had the best trash in a pinch), he looked around at the houses, each spaced far enough apart to leave room for their expansive estates.
Finally, he slowed to a stop as he arrived in front of the grandest one on the street. The House of Ars Goetia was certainly something to behold, though Blitz expected no less at this point. He had been through his share of upper class households. The building itself was lavish, with some kind of ivy clinging to its black exterior, with small clusters of red flowers bursting among its leaves.
Peering through the gilded bars of the windows, he couldn’t make out much inside the dark building. Blitz walked past the front door (also gaudy, with shiny purple paint and pointless golden decals) and made his way to the side of the house. Moxxie had said to meet him by the rear entrance, so Blitz continued on until he turned the corner.
When he saw the sight that lay before him he groaned aloud in exasperation. The grounds of the manor boasted a swathe of sprawling, rich gardens, with more plants than Blitz could even begin to name. It was going to take forever to find his way through it.
Peering through the fauna he could make out another strange building with a rounded glass top and further past that—Blitz’s eyes grew wide—a carriage house. And where there was a carriage house, there was a stable. Of course Moxxie would have failed to mention that there were horses on the premises.
He wasn’t quite sure where the back entrance was, so Blitz began to make his way through the gardens. As he walked down the path he was quickly engulfed by the massive shrubs and trees. After a few turns, one or two of which were definitely mistakes, he realized he could no longer see the house through the hedges.
Frustrated, Blitz pressed forward. Well, now he supposed it was a good thing that damned inn had saddled him with the loudest roommate in all of Hell, otherwise he definitely would’ve been late for his appointment.
Blitz was still grumbling to himself about the snorer extraordinaire when he tripped over a tree root and fell face-first onto the back of someone crouched over on the ground.
“Ah!” they squawked in surprise.
“Fuck!” Blitz said. He had landed on the stranger, knocking them over to land on their front. The two of them had fallen into an awkward sort of pile of gangly soft gray and red and white limbs. Blitz was finally able to control his (the latter) and scrambled to stand.
The other person sat up and turned around to face him. “Who the blazes are you?” he demanded.
As Blitz tried to dust off his one and only almost-nice jacket, he looked down to see who he had stumbled into. It appeared to be some kind of bird-type sinner, with four glowing red eyes and feathers in shades of gray.
Interesting, he didn’t know this place employed sinners, he had figured they were all imps, as was tradition. Did that make them progressive? Did Blitz care? (Not particularly.)
The sinner cocked his head to the side as he narrowed his eyes, none of which, Blitz noticed, had visible pupils. Blitz looked him up and down to see he was dressed in a very plain linen shirt and trousers caked with dirt, and wore a wide-brimmed straw hat. One of his gloved hands was gripped around a gardening spade.
Blitz made the absolutely brilliant deduction that he had stumbled upon the resident gardener.
Thank Satan, he thought.
“Oh shit sorry, didn’t see you there. I think I got turned around, could you point me in the direction of the house?” Blitz asked, now extending a hand to help him up.
The gardener looked at Blitz, expression growing further quizzical as he took the offered hand. “Certainly, it’s no problem…” he said gently. Blitz easily wrapped his hand around the slender talon and pulled the other man to stand. He towered over Blitz now, tall enough to see over the oppressive hedges he had probably helped plant.
“Thank fuck,” Blitz grinned now that the end of his struggle was in sight. “This is quite a garden, you’ve clearly been hard at work planting all these uh… plants. Couldn’t tell my horns from my tail out here. Does the master of the house work your ass night and day or something?”
“Uhh…” the gardener seemed to be at a loss for words, the cheeks of his heart-shaped face having grown increasingly flushed as Blitz spoke. “Wow, you certainly have a… spirited vocabulary.”
“Oh shit, sorry. Yeah I guess I should get a wrangle on that before I meet the man in charge or whatever.”
The gardener was leading him out of the hedges and back through the flower bushes, towards what Blitz could only hope was the house.
“Oh? And do you have an appointment with him?” the gardener asked. He had a posh accent that Blitz found mildly grating. Could sinners be upper class dickheads too?
“Hell ye— I mean, yes,” Blitz said, “I’m supposed to be interviewing for some position on the household staff.”
“I see…” the gardener said, still looking thoughtful. “Is it for the footman position?”
“I think so. My old uh, roommate, Moxxie put in a good word for me here. Do you know him?” Blitz’s head was on a swivel as they walked past some of the most peculiar foliage he had ever seen. He didn’t make a point of spending much time in gardens generally, but did flowers usually turn their heads to follow you as you walked past?
The other man nodded, “Yes, Moxxie is a very dependable footman. And you were roommates?”
“More or less. You have to learn how to tolerate each other when you’re stuck in a room the size of a cinderbox ‘round the clock.”
“You were… in prison with him?” he slowed his pace.
“Uh, yeah,” Blitz slowed down too, looking up at the gardener. “You’re not gonna tell, are you? I know you don’t give a rat’s ass about me but you don’t want to fuck things up for a nice guy like Mox, do you?”
“I don’t want to mess things up for anyone,” he said, continuing their walk now. “So what did you do to end up there?”
“Getting real personal now, aren’t we birdie?”
“Birdie?”
“Um, yeah? You are a bird, right? Or maybe you just had a bad run in with a featherduster, in which case I’m sorry for bringing up such a painful subject. It’s always the cleaning supplies you least expect.”
At that, the birdman (or whatever he was) stopped in his tracks. It was so abrupt, Blitz had to stop and circle back to where he stood stock-still among the sunflowers.
“Was that a… a jest?” he asked, looking in Blitz’s direction, his face unreadable.
“Um yes? Was that not obvious? Hey listen, I’m sorry if you actually have some kind of featherduster-related trauma.”
“Oh,” the gardener blinked, then started walking again, “No. It’s fine…” He had brought his hand to his face and turned his head away so Blitz couldn’t see.
“Ooohkay,” Blitz said, trailing behind again. He kept having to step out of the way of the long feathered tail that swished behind the birdman. But, he had to admit, it wasn’t such a bad view to be stuck walking behind. It wasn’t every day he met someone who had such a nice ass right at his eye level.
“I didn’t do anything that bad, by the way,” he continued, “To end up in prison, I mean. It was just a misunderstanding at my last position.”
“What kind of misunderstanding?"
“My previous employer, back in Lustton, sent the constable on me for ‘stealing’ their horse’,” he replied with a shrug.
“And? Did you?”
“No!” Blitz said, indignantly. “I only borrowed it! I had to make a quick getaway. And I sent it back three days later!”
“Why did you have to make a quick getaway?” the gardener pressed.
“What does it matter? Why do you care?”
The other man sighed and looked up at the clouds that had shifted in to cover the warm morning light from the pentagram. “I don’t really. Well, not like that, I don’t think poorly of you. Forgive me if I crossed a line, I didn’t mean to pry. I was merely curious. It’s just… well it’s terribly boring here.”
Blitz nodded, “You’re right. Plants are awfully boring.”
“What? No! Plants are wonderful,” he stopped briefly to trim a few tendrils off a flowering purple vine that climbed a trellis along the path. “They’re like both friends and children, always there to listen but also reliant on you for support, someone who would care if you were to suddenly not be there to feed them and tend to them.”
“...right,” Blitz looked around, hoping they were almost at the door. Was this garden even larger than he had thought, how long had they been walking? He was almost definitely going to be late now. “How much further?”
The gardener waved a hand, “Not far, don’t worry about it. Anyway, you were saying? You had to flee with little notice from your position?”
“Oh right, that. Yes, well I was a footman to a family that had recently come into wealth. They had a daughter who was a bit… infatuated with me. I guess she hadn’t really adjusted to high society or whatever, but I didn’t want her to sully her reputation. So I uh, made a rather quick departure.”
“I see.” He nodded. “How very honorable.”
“I shouldn’t have told you that. Listen, please don’t let word get out, I would hate for her to–”
“Oh! No I would never. Besides, you didn’t even tell me who the family was.”
“True, true…” Blitz looked around. He still couldn’t see any sign of the manor. “Hey are we almost there? It kind of feels like we’ve been walking in circles.”
“Oh uh... does it? Sorry about that, I may have taken a wrong turn myself.”
“Fucking Christ on a stick…” Blitz growled, then veered off the gravel path to make a beeline in the direction he thought the house was in.
“Wait!” the gardener called.
“What? I promise not to trample your children-plants but I’ve really got to get to this interview on time.”
“Very well,” he said with a sigh, “It’s right this way.” And gestured around the bend to where the path ended at the edge of the garden to reveal a landing with stone steps leading up to a door to the manor.
Blitz stopped. “Oh. Right.” He turned to make his way towards it. “Wait, so we were right here?”
“Yes, funny that...” the gardener said, pointedly looking away, “I’ve had a really lovely time talking with you. Thank you.”
“For… talking?”
“Yes. You wouldn't believe how… quiet it is around here sometimes.” They had finally reached the door.
“I mean if all your friends are plants, I imagine they don’t talk much.”
“True, but some of them bite.”
“Ha! Right,” Blitz laughed, knocking on the door.
He raised his eyebrows. “You almost just walked right through them.”
“Oh…” Blitz said, looking over his shoulder at the garden. “Hey listen, no offense but if by some miracle I get this job, I might just give your garden a wide berth in the future.”
The gardener smiled, “That’s alright. I’d bet I will see you around anyway.”
At that, the door swung open to reveal Moxxie standing there, a panicked look on his face. “Blitz!” he hissed upon seeing him, “You’re late! And you’ve…” he trailed off, looking at the gardener besides him. “Oh.”
“Sorry Mox, I got a bit turned around trying to make my way through the gardens. Please don’t tell me that this guy is the kind who expects his staff to be everywhere at once, always standing at attention with giant rods up their asses.”
Moxxie’s face went nearly as white as the hair on his head. He opened his mouth, desperately trying to muster a response.
“Anyway, let’s meet the old chucklefuck!” Blitz said, pushing past the imp into the house.
“But Blitz, h-he’s…” Moxxie stumbled over his words. Behind him, the gardener stepped through the door to follow them, taking off his wide-brimmed hat now.
“Oh hey it was nice chatting with you,” Blitz turned around to give him a wave. “Please don’t tell anyone all the stuff I told you, I really need this job.”
“Well. I think you’ve got it,” the gardener said with a smile.
“Cheers, hope you’re right! Now where is the duke?”
Moxxie, looking as if he were seconds from fainting, gestured emphatically at the tall birdman, “Blitz, meet Duke Stolas of Ars Goetia.”