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Winter in Hell is not like it is on the surface. The ice and freezing winds of Cocyutus billow up from the depths of Treachery to inconvenience the rest of the rings, a small taste of the worst of the suffering alotted to the eternally damned. The snow mixes with ash from Wrath and by the time it gets to Imp City, it’s grey and filthy, melting on Loona’s fur and leaving its vaguely degrading film over everything open to the air. Nothing stays pure for long in Hell and as a child of the streets, Loona knows this better than most. Still, there are echoes of surface-world joy to be found if you look for it. Imp children making snow-devils as their parents scold them, warm hearths to curl up by.
Several thousand years of human civilization had seeped its way through Hell’s culture and so despite their best efforts, even demons found excuses to celebrate one thing or another as the freezing damned howled in the wind.
“Well, thanks for having us over Mox,” says Blitz, shaking snow out of his coat and slapping Moxxie on the back. “Here, we brought booze. The good stuff too!”
“You just showed up-“ grumbles Moxxie, but he doesn’t grumble too loudly.
“And this,” adds Loona, tossing a parcel of skinned bats towards Millie, who snatches them out of the air easily.
“Awww, thank ya kindly Miss Loona,” chirps the imp, before frowning. “Huh, uneven knife cuts. Didja skin these yerself?”
The hellhound shrugs and hangs her own coat next to Blitz’s. She didn’t need the protection, but keeping the filthy snow out of her fur was always a good idea. “Can’t really go out in this weather and Blitz kept taking potshots at ‘em from the window. It kept me busy.”
“Well, they look great!” A huge gap-toothed grin beams at her and Loona smiles just a little at the praise. “Ahm gonna start roastin’ em straight away.”
On her other side Moxxie whistles. “An 1875 Sanguine Vinters AND a 1961 Sinfandel? Blitz, how much was this?” Her father waves it off.
“Think of it as a little winter bonus, Mox. Besides, Looney needs to be introduced to actually good alcohol, not whatever swill she’s finding out in the wild.”
“I’m-“ Blitz’s fond look makes her automatic objection stick in her throat and the roaring fire in the hearth softens her further. “I guess it’ll be a change of pace.”
“That’s the spirit!” cheers Millie, “Loona, you’re the one with the great nose, how’s mah roast smell?” The hellhound takes a deep breath of the air and licks her lips as she smells the brown sugar glazing and the fat cooking the roast hog from the inside with its own juices.
“It smells delicious,” she admits. “How have you and Mox not been picking at it all afternoon?”
“The anticipation’s half the fun, an’ it tastes even better with someone to share it with.”
“Good, because Blitz was gonna take me to that Chinese place over on 13th street instead.” She sniffed again and swallowed heavily. “This beats orange chicken by a country mile.”
Millie cackles at her joke and soon ropes Loona into helping stirr a cranberry-pomegranite dish from the Wood of Suicides. For a few moments, Loona tunes out the conversation and just basks in it all.
Food, warmth, happiness, family.
For a while there, she’d only been able to find the first two, and even that had been fairly infrequent. Two winters ago, she’d stolen vermouth from some corner store and drank on the roof of the orphanage until she couldn’t feel her freezing paws anymore. Now…
Blitz slides past Millie and hands his daughter a wine glass, generously filled with violet liquid. “Here you go sweetie, now c’mon, Moxxie’s gonna teach ya how ta appreciate good wine.” She follows him over to the imp of the house, who’s lounging in a plush, comfortable chair, relaxed and decidedly in his element. He grins up at Loona and waves her into a seat which her long-legged form spills out of.
“Alright, now I know you already think I’m a stuffed shirt about a great many things-“
“Moxxie, you’re literally wearing a cravat,” says Blitz and gets an eye-roll in return.
“But I can assure you that wine is a drink where on a night like tonight, you can appreciate the subtleties. First,” he tilts the wine glass one way then the next and holds it up to the light. “You can see some of the wine cling to the sides when I did that, which means it’s high quality and full-bodied. To borrow from your common parlance, it’ll “stick to your ribs”. Loona raises the glass towards her lips, but Moxxie stops her with a look of something like horror on his face. “At-t-t-t-ta! Miss Loona, I know you’ll like this part.” The imp makes small circles with his wrist, stirring the bloodwine in a clockwise motion in the glass. “Stirr just a bit like this, gently now, and tell me what you smell.” He sniffs and grins as Loona sees Blitz copy the motion, enjoying the show.
“This is stupid,” she says, but both imps can tell she doesn’t really mean it by how her ears are perked and pointed in Moxxie’s direction. Loona takes a deep breath, her snout momentarily fogging the glass and-
The scent of rich, heady earth, carefully tilled in the service of Hell’s finest vineyards. Old oak barrels to store the crushed grapes, the scent of arterial blood, straight from a human source. O-negative if she had to guess.
“Wow…” she managed, opening her eyes and wondering when they’d closed. “I don’t know if I can describe it all.”
“I’m sure you’re getting far more from the experience than this little old imp,” said Moxxie. “So I’m interested to hear your impressions.”
Loona gestured, miming a bloated stomach. “It smells heavy I guess, like there’s weight to it. History and oak, earthy smell, then the blood, obviously. Demons went to alot of trouble to make this stuff.”
“Which is why I like to do this,” replied the imp sommelier, tilting his glass at her in a salute. “It’s an appreciation for the work it takes. Now, taste.”
He and Blitz took an appreciative sip, though the latter licked his lips.
“Hmm, this one’s just the right kind of bitter.”
“Smooth and full-bodied,” agrees Moxxie. They look over at Loona, who was frowning in puzzlement at her glass as she took a second drink. “I can feel what you mean when you say it’s smooth,” she agreed. “It goes down really easily. Blech, feels like my mouth’s drying out.”
“Thos’re the tannins,” explains Moxxie slurring his words slightly and she’s pretty sure he’s exaggerating how sauced he is to mess with her. “They’re what makes the wine bitter and dry out your mouth, but it’s like…” He gestures, searching for the word.
“Like the spine of a wine,” supplies Blitz. “Everything else builds from it.”
Loona, despite herself, is swept into the conversation, sip after sip, as the alcohol opened up to her, telling stories in Moxxie’s voice about dry leaves, earthen gardens, and old vineyards. The heat of the fire and the wine is seductive enought that her eyelids feel heavier than normal, right up until a glass of water is shoved into her face.
“Okay fancy-pants,” chides Millie, pinching Moxxie’s cheek as her husband sobers up remarkably fast. “This is dinner, not just an excuse to get drunk.”
“It can be both,” opines Blitz, back at the counter and relegated to vegetable-chopping duty, but Loona can see he’s swaying slightly.
“You doin’ alright Looney-Tuney?”
“Woah…”Loona stands up and has to clutch at Moxxie’s chair to steady herself. The drunkenness brought on by the wine is a far more subtle thing than the burn of hard liquor and with beer, she’d usually have to pee by now. “That’s intense.”
“62 Sinfandel is a wondrously subtle thing,” says Moxxie admiringly as he sets the table. “No need to trouble yourself just yet Miss Loona, we-“
Moxxie’s interrupted by the chime of Loona and Blitz’s phones going off at once. The hellhound, unsurprisingly grabs hers first and peers, dog-eyed at it.
Tavi
What’s up? My mom’s throwing this elaborate party and I’m torn between freezing to death in this cocktail dress and dying of boredom. No idea where my dad wandered off to.
“My friend Octavia’s bored to tears,” announces Loona, knowing the other girl is a bit more than just a friend, but unwilling to give her father any ammunition. “Must be a coincidence-“
“Oh BLITZY , thank Lucifer I caught you. Stella’s thrown together this entire soirée at the last second and I’m positively bored to tears!”
Moxxie giggled as Blitz threw his phone on the counter, thumbing the speaker as he resumed chopping. “Well, the fuck do you want me to do about it Stolas?”
“Yo, Millie, can they come here?” asks Loona, adding a grin that tries to be pleading and comes across as vaguely ill. “If Octavia’s that bored, I gotta help her out!”
Stolas’s voice is slightly tinny, but there’s no mistaking the excitement and cheer in his voice as the Goetia immediately brightens. “OH, is that Loona? Hello dear, Octavia’s said such kind things about you, we really should-“
“Yo, guys,” says Blitz, momentarily muffling his sugar birdie with his thumb. “You don’t have to agree. Stolas’ probably already had champagne or some shit, he gets kinda flighty at stuffy parties.”
“Stolas eh?” Moxxie rubs his chin before a grin of such profound wickedness crosses his face that Loona fears for the owl’s life.
“A Goetia’s wine cellar…” he says dreamily. “Oh, what an opportunity and we have onetwothreefourfivesix, six thirsty demons. Tell Stolas he’s welcome to bring his daughter if he also brings a bottle of 1296 Brunello de Montalcino and anything from 1900.”
“Moxxie you motherfucker, you’re going to spoil us,” says Blitz cheerily. “Mills, I’m not unleashing the rookery in here without your say-so.”
“Ah, go ahead Blitz, he’s your boyfriend.” She wiggles her eyebrows at her boss and he takes his finger off the speaker. Stolas, unsurprisingly, is still going strong.
“-and you would not believe the garish fellow Baphomet brought with him, absolutely exhausting to be around.”
“Stolas, breathe,” says Blitz in a tone that sounds like he’s said it a thousand times and will say it a thousand more. “I’ve finished the hostage negotiations, you can come if your bring your daughter and-“ he rattles off Moxxie’s wine order. Loona and Millie giggle when they hear a Demon Prince of Hell coo like a fledgling. “Ohh, somebody knows their wines. Have you been studying to impress me, Blitzy?”
“Nah, my sniper here used to serve wine and picked up quite a bit,” he says. “And it’s not just me here, so remember to wear something nice!”
“As opposed to nothing at all? Oh Blitzy, I like the way you think-“
“Hey! Don’t put words in my mouth-“ objects her father, but Stolas has already hung up. Instantly Loona’s fingers fly over her phone.
Tavi,
Blitz and your dad bribed Mox with wine, you’re ten minutes away from joining me if you join Stolas in the wine cellar to portal over. There’s some serious gourmet shit going down. 🐶🦴🍷
She gets a response almost immediately.
!!!!!!!
Loonie, you have got to be shitting me. I’m so overdressed now and we’re only bringing wine? We’re gonna look like alcoholics.
“Octavia’s excited,” commented Loona as her father slid the vegetables into the oven alongside the hog.
Classy alcoholics. I’m the trashy one remember?
You’re dating me, that automatically makes you classy.
Loona’s heart did a funny little flip. and she poured herself another glass of wine.
So you really want to do this? It’s gonna be weird.
She could almost hear Octavia’s scoff. We first met ‘cause your dad was plowing mine. It’s always gonna be weird, just roll with it.
😾 You really know how to kill a mood, Tavi!
How’s this for a mood?
The image that loaded almost made Loona drop her phone as her tail thumped a staccato into Moxxie’s chair. Suddenly, the alcohol in her veins vanished as a far more potent cocktail of teenage hormones roared through them with the force of a tsunami.
You said that was a cocktail dress!!!
My mom picked it, blame her.
I almost want to thank her.
“ Hey, Loona, appetizers are ready!” cheered Millie as the hellhound’s stomach rumbled at the thought of mashed potatoes.
“Coming!” called Loona and dashed off a last text.
Getting pulled into the kitchen, can’t wait to see you!
Several minutes later, as Loona was shoveling potatoes into her mouth and Moxxie was topping off Millie’s wine glass, a starry-edged portal opened in the window. “Hellooooo?” asked an eager voice as Stolas of the Ars Goetia strolled through and immediately slammed his upper eyes into a ceiling crossbeam. He squalked and Moxxie dived in to save an earth-encrusted bottle with shining eyes before it hit the floor.
“I’ve got you baby!”
“Oooooh, Millie you’ve got competition,” razzed Blitz trying and failing to pretend like he wasn’t taking in Stolas’s half-disassembled tuxedo. The owl demon staggered back and blinked, his disheveled outfit completing the look of a man looking slightly lost. His jacket had long coattails that framed his tail-feathers while whatever bow tie he’d worn before had been tossed aside, leaving his shirt half-open to display silver-grey chest fluff.
“You look like you lost a fight with a shrubbery Stolas,” said Blitz, wiping his hands on a towel as Stolas handed him one of the bottles, bending down to press a kiss into his cheek. “Glad you’re out of that stuffy house?”
“Oh, Blitzy, it was positively torture! Octavia, dear, come along, I promise my illusions will ensure we are seen, heard, and appropriately awed by our guests.”
Loona stood up, her hands flicking about herself as she performed a quick check. Makeup? Decent, though her eyeliner was a bit smudged from the walk over here in the snow. Hair? Slightly poofier than normal, but-
Her train of thought derailed, tumbled end over end several times, and exploded spectacularly as Octavia came through the portal, grinning shyly and waving at her. “Hey everyone.”
Octavia’s dark grey feathers were the background for a stunning gold dress with slinky straps and from the dip around her waist, clearly backless. But what made Loona momentarily incapable of speech was the combination of the gold dress with the black leather jacket draped over her Goetia’s shoulders.
That’s my jacket, thought Loona. When did she…oh.
She swept forward and pulled Octavia into a hug, marvelling at the violet eyeshadow.
“Hey yourself! Tavi, you look just…”
“Stunning?” asked Moxxie from where he was eating prosciutto off of tiny toothpicks.
“Oh man, listen to that,” chuckled Blitz and a momentary hush fell over the group. With another jolt of surprise, Loona realized that she was humming. “Kinda says it all, doesn’t it?” She gave her father the finger as he was swept off his feet by the far lankier Stolas. “How wonderful Blitzy! Really, I feel so warm, it’s understandable why the humans throw these cozy sort of parties every year.”
“Oh, um, yes!” piped up Millie, remembering that she was playing host to two of Hell’s royalty now. “Mox, the extra glasses-“
“Wayyyy ahead of you babe,” said the imp with self-satisfaction. “Now your Highness, I’ve been looking forward to a bottle of 1900 for at least ten years, so tonight promises to be a night to remember!”
“Aha, so you’re the sommelier Blitzy spoke so highly of,” admired Stolas and soon he and Moxxie were deep into what sounded like a highly technical discussion, with Blitz leaning into Stolas’ side absently.
“He’s assuming that we remember any of this,” said Octavia dryly. “You realize there’s enough alcohol in that bottle to kill lesser imps.”
“Moxxie’s a tough little fucker,” replied her hellhound affectionately, copying her father and leaning into her own owl. “I think he’d drink the whole bottle and talk about it all night if we let him. But I gotta say,” she turned, looking the younger Goetia up and down again. “There’s some things I’d love to remember about tonight.”
“You’re the worst.” smiled Octavia as Moxxie approached, swapping Loona’s empty wine glass for a fresh one.
“Cheers ladies.” The whole room seemed to brighten as Millie laughed at something Stolas said and her husband raised his glass, followed by the others. “May this be a night to remember!”
And It Was.
~FIN~