prince of greed / .

Cat. The moment the name slipped from the human's tongue, Mammon became even more intrigued. It had never been common knowledge for the archfiend's interest in the little felines, especially the ones that had been targeted during those wretched witch hunts. Something of a smile touched his lips, as his fingers tapped once more against the cards that still sat before him. "Catriel," the name was repeated, as if to familiarize themself with it further. The human had specified that only friends used the shortened version, no matter how Mammon would have preferred it. There was no request for anything in return, and so the archfiend did not offer anything. If the human wished to know, then he would have to ask. A deal with the devil, so to speak. For a moment, their gaze slipped to the newest card that sat against the felt of the table. The numbers had been added up, calculated against what could possibly be under the cards that rested before them. If Mammon wanted to, he could make the latest card his own. To draw it to him, replace it with one of his overturned cards. But the archfiend withheld such a want, and instead flipped another, placed it upon the felt, and pushed it to the human. "And now?" A darkened gaze shifted once more to the features of the other.

"I've played since I was a kid." At the table with his mother's boyfriend and his friends. And then he'd taught friends so they could all play together and then once he'd gotten older and realized that there were entire establishments dedicated to this kind of thing, he was enamored. "I can't say I've ever seen you here before, but I usually stick to the slots." There's something about being under the dark gaze that feels....It's not like people didn't watch him play cards, that was all kind of the point, analyzing your opponent. This feels less like strategy and more like genuine interest though. It occurs to Catriel in the moment that he wants to be interesting for this person, he's never that for anyone. Or at least surrounded by supernatural, he is always the least interesting in the room, which makes him wonder what on earth this person across the table from him must be. The mundane to the extraordinary would be extraordinary. The card set between them is a three and that's fortunate, that bodes well. "Hit."

How intriguing. That the little creature had given into that sin so very young. A smile had curved upon the edges of the archfiend's lips, seemingly a gentle touch to show that they had been listening. Yet, it wasn't that small fact that they were interested in. No, they were enthralled by how easily the human had seemingly won the game. It almost had them wondering if he had cheated. If there were some other form of magic at play, something that Mammon hadn't yet taken note of. "I'm new to town," simple words offered, as his gaze had remained upon the other. Ever fixated, ever watchful. If a careful eye were not fixed upon the human, then how would Mammon know how he had accomplished what he had. Fingers had tapped against the felt beside their own cards, faced down as the game intended. Though, there had been no care to which cards had been dealt to the demon themself. Winning the game had not been of any interest to them. That smile, however, returned as the human requested yet another card. The smell of greed was in the air. Fingers flipped over the next card, slipped it against the felt once more, "What is your name?"

In life, Sybella had prayed to Babylon, Mother of all Harlots as she danced and murdered during her greedy pursuit to find her lost brother and soon she was dragged to crucifixion and had found Mammon instead. She had never given up on the fate of one day escaping the Inferno, with the demons that she had met along the way. It could spell trouble having the archfiend in the demonic strip joint and so she knew enough to tread lightly. A charming smile crossed her face, deviance shining through. "Of course. How interesting to have you top-side."

It had never been any sort of surprise to the archfiends, of how those that wound up in their circles were always keen to escape them. Some were lucky, and summoned by a witch. Others had been forced to fight their way to the surface, out of the circle. Sybella happened to be one of the lucky ones, so to speak. But Mammon had not come to snip whatever string held her to her witch. Not yet, at least. "Oh? Are you afraid of me, Sybella?"

The people around them disperse until it's just the two of them at the table. it's the dealer having no issue being waved away that gets him feeling somewhere between curious and nervous. A game of Blackjack was always played between a patron and the house but he had a feeling he might be playing against thee actual house. Or at least someone very important. The nerves dissipate when the man deals out a hand and Catriel picks it up. The two cards equal eight, that's not entirely terrible, he can work with that. And he can pretend that there hadn't been the slightest bit of emphasis on the word and something occurs to him. That maybe he's read this all wrong and he's not about to be humiliated, he's being hit on. "Not often, it's more of an indulgence." He makes a point of shuffling the cards in his hand back and forth, eyes meeting the other man's over the top of them. "Hit."

Something about the whole thing feels very formal, as if he's signing something away and he's not quite sure how to feel about such a thing. There's rules to playing cards, courtesy you extended to other players, and it'd be outright rude of him to not give someone a chance to win back their money. Yet there's something about how this guy seems almost amused by the whole ordeal that has Catriel wondering if he was never going to win this one in the first place. But he's being given some leeway here by being able to choose the game. "Blackjack, you deal." There's a casual confidence to it that's all for show, it's a game he's good at and that's enough for him to feel like even if he loses, he's given it a fair shot.

It should have been expected, in all honesty he was lucky he was only getting disgruntled grumbles from everyone else. Those at the table seem to easily bow out, disperse from the table and Catriel thinks he has potentially made a terrible mistake. At least on the slots, you could win a decent amount, but never enough that the house seemed to care all that much. This guy though? With those deep set dark eyes that seem to glance over the table, the money, like it isn't that big of a deal to him. Something in his stomach twists under that gaze but he can't say no. On account of it would be both poor sportsmanship and cowardly to just bow out. Thirdly, the idea of doubling the pile of chips in front of him would mean his rent portion would be taken care of and maybe he'd be able to upgrade his phone finally. "Make it worth my time, triple it." It's not entirely cocky, it's mostly casual, he's good at bluffing. To other humans, at least.

Person: @mammcn Location: Babylon BayBee note: local twink in gucci knock offs beats hot man at cards He'd been at this long enough to know when a table was just having fun and when stakes were actually high. Babylon in general is a nice place and because of that he usually avoids everything but the bar and the slots, he's got no business betting money he doesn't have and potentially upsetting someone who could actively do his twig ass harm. Yet he is there at a table anyways, cards in his hand and pile of chips in the middle of the table. There's six of them, three of them have already folded and his hand is good, it's really good. His hand isn't the problem, it's the bit of spotlight in a nice place that is the uneasy part. "Well," The thing was he had a full house, he was taking that pile home with him and the promise of that high is what keeps him seated. But Catriel glances to the two other men with cards still in their hands and the whole table, the whole place is immaculate. To beat these guys might bruise an ego or two, he's wearing cubic zirconia and looking across at a pair of real diamonds, he's felt a bit like they've been placating him the whole game. Which was going to make this next part so much sweeter. "I'm afraid the house is full." Laying the cards down, he looks up dark eyes of the man directly across from him as the rest of the table groans and there's the smallest smile playing across his lips. "I will gladly trade all of that in for cash." It's more than a few hundred euros, he was going to take that and leave while he was ahead for once.

Greed nestled within the heart of even the most devout. Money, luxuries, even something as simple as more time. It wafted off any who should pass him, even before that need seemed to amplify within them. Over and over again, Mammon had seen it, been witness to it as they fell into the circle of their domain. And though the Inferno no longer caged him, why should he not find cause to further that sin within them? That simply begged to be released at long last. The casino had been perfect, flashing lights that drew even the most skeptical of moths to it. One steps towards the doors of Babylon, and that dormant want within them shifted itself to the surface. Drawn towards the archfiend who stood just beyond the doors, with a waiting hand that beckoned them closer.