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The Cowboy and the Harelquin.

Love and Lust and everything in-between. Striker is out to complete his task and full-fill his contract with Stella. Blitzo is trying to sort out some inner turmoil From a breakfast interloper: : Where Blitzo awakens to the smell of bacon pancakes and a half naked cowboy who is looking to cut a deal with the business imp. to The Wrath of a vengeful Cowboy: a date night gone wrong when agent 1 and Agent 2 arrive on the scene. and many more. come join me.

Mouse87Mouse · TV
Not enough ratings
23 Chs

The Time Traveling Cowboy, Episode One: a Rift in time.

Striker, the devilishly handsome Rogue. The legendary Cowboy from wrath.

The Wrathian without a last name.

He was sent backwards in time during a climatic fight with Commander Stolas: the Prince of the stars, thrust deep into that past.

He meets and falls for the loveless Harlequin aerialist.

A romance blooms: Like a beautiful desert blossom as he watches Blitzo practice. Meanwhile, Robo-Fizz shorts circuit with jealousy at all the attention his Harlequin is giving the Rogue. It used to be just them swinging on the bars, flying. That is until this mysterious rogue cowboy stole the show with his rope tricks and horse riding stunts coupled alongside Blitzo's balancing act. Blitzo was very apt and an all-time favorite with the crowd. Last week, he had Blitzo balancing on a horse doing various incredible tricks, all with a crack of his tail. Lord Mammon and his original loved the attention the power duo brought to their circus.

But Robo-Fizz craved the spotlight.

Missed the attention that had once solely been on him, that he was all too happy to share with BlitzO when it had just been them. He had known Blitzo since his shit-faced no-good father threw him on the grounds of Loo-Loo land and sold him to the Overlord that ran this circus tent.

One evening, the aroma of popcorn and cotton candy clung to the crisp nightly air during practice. Striker breeches the subject about Stolas. Knowing that at least one point in time, the Harlequin and the Goeita had to cross paths. No matter how much the Cowboy despised the blueblood, he wouldn't miss his introduction to Blitzo. Blitzo sits on the bleachers, popping popcorn in his mouth, trying to get Striker to join in.

Striker climbs up on the Bleachers, catching popcorn in his mouth. He licks the butter from his lips as he traps Blitzo beneath him. His deep green eyes search the Harlequin's face.

A soft Mewling purr emits from the imp underneath him, who is trying to toss another popcorn into his mouth. Striker catches it before capturing the Harlequin's lips with his mouth between the heated kisses and lecherous tongues. Striker speaks, his breath bated with lust and want.

As he realizes, with a pang, what he could have had if only he had been more persistent. The hesitation flickered within the red imp's eyes like he was fighting with himself.

He almost had Blitzo if it weren't for that annoying piece of shit- Vermin, that what they all were, and they had their claws and teeth sunk into Blitzo but none so deep-deeper than that fucking Goeita demon who toyed with His Harlequin: like a masterful puppeteer.

A soft chortling mewl reaches his ear as Blitzo is sat poised, readying himself with another cornel of popcorn. That he pops successfully into the snake imp's mouth.

"I don't know where you came from, Cowboy, but I haven't had this much fun in a long time, not since my twin sister disappeared.

Striker had to think of something. He didn't know how this shit worked.

If he'd just disappear one day back into his own time, leaving Blitzo at the mercy of that psychotic clown.

Would he awaken to a partner and mate? by his side. Or Bombproofs neighs as he slept in the stables again.

"Just promise me one thing, Darlin, Spoke Striker, trapping Blitzo against the bleachers, his green eyes swirling hypnotically.

What is that partner?" Blitzo answers.

Striker's heart beats faster.

"If I were to suddenly, abruptly to return home one day, I want you to know-

to tell you, to be careful around the Overlords. don't grow any strong attachments to any of them, Sugar-cube- especially the Ares Goetia

I can't let you go tonight unless you promise me one more thing. If this Ares Goeita is inevitable like I think he is and our paths cross-

I would like to continue our partnership, he says, trying to get Blitzo to understand. But I don't belong here- Blitzo looks down at the bleach- out- semi-stained bleachers, disheartened. The bag of popcorn falls from his hand and spills into the bleachers.

Robo-Fizz whirls and wheezes beneath the bleachers, listening in on their conversation. "Blitzo was Fizzourl's property, not some Goeita's plaything. Fizzuroli had already sold one twin into the underbelly of hell. And What was this Cowboy trying to pull?

Striker meant it. He would not let the Harlequin escape without the aerialist realizing what he meant.

"And neither do you, Blitz.

"I can't leave Striker. My contract isn't up yet.

"and Its never going to be up, BlitzO Robo-Fizz growls under his breath.

The Jester watches as Striker helps Blitzo off the bleachers. The Cowboy wraps his arms around him, shielding Blitzo away from the fuming clown. Using his hat to cover their faces as he kisses Blitzo senselessly underneath the big top.

One night just before an act, Blitzo ups and disappears. Striker searches everywhere. Robo- fizz is on stage dancing on top of a cage on a blood-splattered stage.

He finds Blitzo's tent, empty and torn to shreds, tatters of clothing and circuitry on the floor. An open cage: its door barely on its hinges. The Cowboy runs out of the tent towards the main big top. The crowd is cheering as Robo- Fizz revealing a bloodied aerialist. The lewd Jester revels in the crowd's applause.

Blitzo shrinks back as Robo-Fizz rip off the door, his robotic arms extending into the cage. His sharp claws scratch Blitzo's exposed chest. "It shows time, BlitzO; you've been spending too much time with that cowlick. I thought you would get a kick- (He throws Blitzo to the ground, kicking him in the ribs- at having your old partner back. He pulls Blitzo's tail, twisting it around his hand. He grinds into Blitzo's ass before dancing him across the stage towards the trapeze wires.

He forces Blitzo up the steep stairs, following him behind, smacking his ass.

Blitzo wants to turn around, but the crowd thinks this is part of a new performance.

He feels Robo-Fizz's hand on his thigh; he looks down and then up at the clown. There was no safety net. And Blitzo had an unsettling feeling about this.

The crowd's roar encourages him as he grips the trapeze bar- Swings flipping in the air: cartwheeling across the tent before grasping another.

Robo- Fizz grins sadistically, flicking his wrist, and the flyer falls back as a thin cord of sharp wire was wrapped around his neck. He screams just as the Cowboy rushes the big top-riding like the devil was after him- while in standing on ashen white pinto jumping up, he grips Blitzo's body- and cuts the thin wire.

The Jester growls from above.

Throwing Molten cocktails of green fire at the rouge riding around the tent and the tiny flyer who had just cheated a grisly death. Screams of terror: Painful screams of burning agony tore through the burning tent as the crowd dispersed, running for their lives as Loo-Loo land caught fire. Robo-Fizz popped out of the tent: like a demonic jack in the box. His arms outstretching.

Striker shielded the red imp from view, riding the ashen pinto out of the circus tent: a significant expulsion ripped the snake imp and the flyer into the air. The Rogue pulled out his carmine silver-tipped rifle and pointed it at the disturbed clown.

Bang!

The clown rises from the lapping fires burning through the ringmaster's tent: his crazed eyes locked on Blitzo was knocked unconscious by the massive explosion. Striker's body lay atop of the red imp. as half a Pinto smolders somewhere nearby. Striker's tail rattles with a fatal warning. Blood drips into his eye as he pulls the trigger again.

It was the first time Blitzo destroyed half of Loo-Loo land, but it wouldn't be the last.

And the former clown owed his life to that mysterious rouge from a different time.