Embodiment of Lust

Knowing this part of Hell more and more, the golden man had an ulterior motive to gain. He had something he had to rebuild due to an incident that happened long ago, something that had kept him from ascending further.

Striking a deal with a demon such as he, may not be a cake walk. He was no mere mortal, or a sinner. He was known as the demon of lust. The one that ruled the very ring he ruled in.

As he had taken a seat, he seemed to have declined most things the others around him had offered and seemed to always warn others to keep their distance. He seemed to be exceptionally picky with who he wanted, or so it would seem in the distance. The only thing he accepted were a few drinks however, even then, it was mostly wine.

He was more-so interested in the performance, the acting that displayed, and the music that were presented. Anything sexual was not really his forte, but he still respected the efforts that were put into it. He would occasionally nod.

His sharp golden eyes were glued on stage, he was studying them all. Perhaps he was only the kind of guy who liked to watch, and not take part in such sins? It was hard to tell, for his golden shell was not going to be easy to crack open, if it even can be. It was obvious by now; he was here for him. He almost never broke eye contact as Asmodeus did his thing.

It was such a shame that the bite in his voice and above you attitude did very little to deter attention from him, firstly-- this was hell. Do you know how many masochistic weirdos would paid to get stepped on by someone who didn’t care about them? Hell, him telling someone to go away might’ve been enough to stir up uncomfortable displays. Such a shame that consent was something strangers on the streets rarely cared about. Even before stepping foot in the most illustrious club in hell-- while he was inside he would notice something apparent. 

Hatsur was the only one at a table alone. 

If he was trying to avoid attention before, he wasn’t now. Some of the staff were getting a little testy about how much he waved them away or shrugged off their advances. This was some of the finest ass in hell and the golden pimp here didn’t even spare them a passing glance!? What ever, maybe he was a cuck or a voyeur. Just let him have his drinks and enjoy the show they guessed.

And what a show it was-- powerful pipes and sensual motions all bathed in neon lights, floor work that made more then one table melt just from the bare minimum of interactions with the Paragon himself. Hatsur himself being a victim of this attention as gloved claws stroke a card along the frame of his chin before dumping it on his table. This was the lord of lust? Why would a ruler lower themselves to such a show? Although... if adoration and stirring up people sexual appetite was the key... And the card he left? Seems like someone succeeded in garnering the attention of a big shot. 

Private meeting access.

There wasn’t a day in lust where something exciting and underhanded wasn’t happening. The sin was a far more nuanced then people expected, it wasn’t just the carnal desire for flesh that damned people to the rings neon lights and hypnotic music. Lust was throwing everything away for what you craved. And the night life of the ring resonated with that message.

 Wanted to to ecstasy while the world around you was a lit blur? Wanted to stand on the corner for a quick lay or some quick cash? Wanted to be adored by strangers just for doing a cam show? All of this was littered through out the lust ring.

But the ship that Asmodeus ran around him personally was a more refined type of lust. The special kind where you were drenching your date(s) in euphoria and you get lost and wrapped up in someone else’s desire. It was an, alluring aspect, which is why a seat at his club was so sought after, where only the lucky, patient, or rich were able to indulge. And in this case, a yellow eldritch Don Quixote mother fucker pursuing what the sin offered and trapped people with. And Ozzy took notice, he keep an eye on every demon, imp, or angel with a rebellious streak that stepped into his club.

UGH… As if he cared if they were lonely and desperate. That wasn’t any of his concern, but if there was a way to profit off their desperation? Well, he may have to start thinking of various ways as to do so.

“You know I don’t care about their sexual gratification like you do. At least with those I’m not close to.” Mammon smirks, “I bet I could make these body pillows 10 times better than your own aaaaand make a profitable amount of money as well. In fact, I think I will if only to surpass your own wares and rub it in your face.” Playfully he sticks his tongue out at his fellow Sin; eyes glowing with mirth.

Oh no, he doesn’t have to shell the money for production cost anymore and people still get to do vile unspeakable things with his visage?

What ever shall he do? “What ever you say fox, you’re the big egg on this one. Call me when you have to start posing for these thangs. I’ll give you some tips.” Speaking of, how did he get that image--

“THAT’S just bad business then. If you’re not making a profit, why sell? The right of publicity is an integral part of the right of privacy, is it not? This is the same case with Fizzarolli– I can use his likeness for profit, but we both get a share of the income!”

“Well I didn’t say they weren’t profitable. You’s hearing the wrong tune. I said I don’t see a lick of that green. You’s a business man Mam. And all the foxes and eggs LIKE  that about you. But you ain’t seeing the bigger picture.”

“People come for the lovin’ but be leaving awfully lonley. Why not let ‘em have a little lust on the go? But if it’s got your reed all split why don’t you just produce em to seduce em?” Did he approve sexual merchandise of ALL of the other princes and lords of hell. Yes. Did Mamon have to know that? No.