MOVED.

ꜱɪᴍᴘʟʏ ᴘᴜᴛ ;

. 𝒢𝑅𝐸𝐸𝒟.

Oh shit it’s Mammon! She’s always happy to see the big guy as her tail curled up to show off her happiness, “Oh I’m good, Mammon babe! How about yourself? I know you’ve been busy of late since LooLoo Land was burned down. Anything I can do to help?”

★ ; .             arms outstretch in greeting as VEROSIKA shows off that cute display of her own loving prowess for respecting authority && worshipping a prince, to which mammon responds with utmost sincerity. a hand moves to court her, fingers curling under her cheeked jawline as a thumb grazes her cheekbone, savoring the attention of a lust worker. just another day where he could collect the bittersweet addictions of a hellborn.  ❛ - THAT ?  heh, sure — it’s been hard on everyone since that ex of your swept my stock clean, but y’know i try not t’ hold grudges. - ❜

     ❝ oh FUCK ME. don’t you have you’re own little FUCK TOY to diddle ? ❞

★ ; .                              ❛ - aww, - ❜ rumbles out like a cicadia’s purr, hands reaching out to trace hungry claws down the imp’s faceted suit. down arms, sweeping under to gently cop him && tug him close regardless of how he’d struggle. beezlebub was sure-fire going to regroup his old treasure trove, starting with his favorite shiner of the spotlights ; his only ticket to a slice of heaven as he saw it.

      ❝  … you can’t really think i’m the   SNOT SLUT   in this relationship. ❞

★ ; .             the PRINCE chuckles darkly, body shaking as melodies jangle like the bells tolled upon his uniform, hands coming to hips && rubberhose their respective elbows out just to juxtaposition himself with venomous. look at him, the tall prowess of a hellborn stood clearly besides a mortal — someone still caught in his nest of swarming viscera && excrement. the professor’s loaded in life, has every little material portion of wealth he could dream of, always begging for more like a young commoner found in old fashioned london BEGGING for an extra helping of porridge.

okay in the terms "greed has its hooks in everyone" i thought about how he seems to be a puppeteer in some mannerisms bc of puppet theatre so i considered "what if materialism or overall greed were like strung connections bound to one's soul" so like the more greed you have / selfish you are, the more strings attached to you. mammon's powers string from being able to control a person by their greed, so in some sense he can wrap his fingers in those threads && control someone like a puppet to do things for him, like murder or things you wouldn't normally do under considerable circumstances. depending on how influenced one is with their selfishness dictates how in control of them he is, && that buzzing of "self serving thoughts" is usually his whispers on the wind bc he's technically just a fly on everyone's wall -- especially since mammon is just another name for beelzebub

his power extends beyond hell, as noted that he has risen from hell aflame, riding upon a wolf. beelzebub was born from excrement, so i consider it like mammon was born from the literal shit of mankind's wasted potential, from their hunger for what's better in their ditch attempts to rid themselves of what they considered beneath them. ( especially since recycling / reusing is a general selfless act so to speak but that's beside my point. ) like flies, he swarms those with a hellborn syndicate he calls "the order of the flies" which is an actual biblical reference -- a group known for calling upon those consumed by a life-threatening greed to steal their souls bc they're essentially on death's bed && cast them down to hell.

mammon is actually one of the seven princes of hell, right hand to && directly beside lucifer in power. he's next in line in the hierarchy -- even above vox -- just below the king himself.

we already know he rules the greed ring of hell, which is the second highest of the circles, just below pride.

Fizzarolli purrs as his head is kissed, eyes shuttering close. Oh how he missed Mammon… Not that he was going to tell him of course, that would be just silly, but it was probably apparent by how he practically clung to him and soaked up any attention he could from the Ruler.

“May̦̹̰b͉̲̘e̘ I͙ a̰m͓̦̥.͓.. A̹r̺e̻͈̬ ̮ͅy̳̱͚ou͔ g̬͙o͉ing t̹o͔ ͅf̲̠ee̗̤̩d ̲m̭̥̯e̥ ̮̖͙p̝̤r̟o̱̰̱pe̥r̺ͅly̙̜̺?̩̺͙” One neon peeps open, a soft giggle bubbling from his systems.

★ ; .                              ❛ - GREEDY, aren’t we ? - ❜  chitters out with a few sparse clicks of a beetle’s tongue, the jester keeping his prized possession held close to his own faint rumblings stored within his chest. the robotic doppelgänger receives nothing short of a few uttered praisings under hissing breaths that essentially purr their disgusting rattles into the dense air hanging around the embodiment of the second deadly sin. lips tenderly press to the forehead of the robotic fizzarolli with a few nips of hungry teeth that scratch without so much as catching faux flesh between them, just itching the prosthetics vaguely as though the mere threat of tearing him open might’ve caused a few stray sparks to illuminate his love for mammon.

               singed claws cradle the corporate merch close as he sniffs the unsavory air clinging to the sex bot, nose arch wrinkling as he realizes just how USED this particular model is. an eye squints down with mock disgust towards the unkind tinge tainting his beloved LOO LOO LAND attraction, a finger crooking to hook under beaked chin to raise the robot’s vision to meet with his own had it not already been hyper-focused upon.

★ ; .             GREED : while not one of valentino’s primal sins certainly festered like viscous mold under his foundations. money, power, worth in this hellscape — it all fed into his tower of LUST && desire for more. it was that presence that he hungered upon, the pimp vesseling out his propaganda like merchandise. sinners could never venture beyond the top circle PRIDE, but that only meant the epitome from a few circles down could easily come to call upon business endeavors.

              seventeen feet of spring-loaded features clamber through the front door, easily ducking in with a bend of contortionist vice, leering up to loom over the reception. a calling card produced reveal his telltale reputation, an instant buzz-in made for the head honcho himself. the true FIZZAROLLI narrows his gaze towards the elevator in waiting, choosing the route of stairs for a sprung leap up nearly seventy flights to where he was esteemed to meet && greet his appointment scheduled AHEAD of time.

              believe you me, he has more respect for those of immense financial status than simple walk-in pleasantries.

              a gloved hand gently latches upon a studio set’s doorway, the production long since concluded && currently being cleaned up after while final calls are made upon production costs. && there he is, stood at his slightly shorter stature to the ringling freak of pure materialistic values. his grin reels back for a calmer pull of lips, something he thought to contrast in the sinner as not to fuel too much of his ego in initial greeting.

              his voice curdles out like a rasping broken record, crackling with years of wear && tear from gravelling non-stop shows. ❛ - well well, to a turtle dove this muse turns, shown the complexion && vice of an unbridled fire. A WARM WELCOME as always to see your smiling visage, valentino. - ❜ there it is, that jagged row of serrated teeth furling out in a gracious smile, saved for the last moment of breath curling off lips.

(Niff I love your art. Amazing. Beautiful. CHEF KISS)

kENZI— kenzi-