Making Good Choices With Mammon - Tumblr Posts

for @questionablemuses -- because Mammon obviously needs to be harassed by a cranky imp with a chip on his shoulder, right? RIP them both xD

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Alright. Well. Fizzarolli may have quit, so maybe Mammon wasn't really his boss anymore, but that didn't mean Blitz had just forgiven the big goddamn clown. Mammon might be charismatic to an extreme, but he was still a bastard. He had threatened Asmodeus there in front of an audience of thousands, and as long as Fizz was with that stupid damn chicken? Blitz wasn't going to let anything happen to them.

So. Clearly. Clearly. That meant it was time to find Mammon and put him the fuck down. The imp didn't know what it might mean to kill a Sin, what that might do to Hell, or if a Sin even could die, but he was fully prepared to find out. And after all of that shit that went down with those lunatics up at the Hazbin Hotel? Angelic steel was easier come-by than ever. Although none of his weapons showed, Blitz was armed to the damn teeth, as always--just, this time, his weapons carried a purpose of their own.

He could never, never tell Striker about this. Fuck that bitch anyway. He was next on the hitlist.

Blitz dressed down for the occasion, in torn-up black jeans, a black shirt, and a black leather jacket. Mammon looked like he was probably going to be a gusher, and all of the dry-cleaners near Blitz's house were starting to turn him away as a customer. Who woulda thought that there could be too much blood on one's clothes in Hell? Fucking prudes.

It was too easy to get access to Mammon's private quarters, but that was usually the way in Greed. The right combination of sneaking, bribery, and threats, and these fuckers folded like cheap Greed-KEA card tables. So, here Blitz was, about to quite possibly make the third biggest mistake of his life. He hesitated, his hand on the doorknob to Mammon's bedroom, thinking about the people he was very possibly leaving behind--

Fuck it.

They weren't going to miss him. Even Stolas would probably just roll his eyes at the stupid choice and forget he'd ever wasted time with a little red imp.

Blitz drew his pistol, held it low at his side, and let himself in.

"Mammon," he purred, calling out into the darkness. "Your staff's a bunch of bitches. Hi. You probably don't remember me, motherfucker, but I remember you."

"Uh huh. You sure about that?" Blitz asked in a surprisingly serious growl, for him. He raised the weapon towards Mammon's throat. "If you're immortal, and so damn confident, then you won't mind if I pull the trigger, will you?" His entire body felt like it was starting to quiver with repressed rage. This man, this being, had completely fucked with his friend's head. Did he even know the damage he had done, or caused? Did he--

But what if he didn't?

That thought was the only one that kept the imp from pulling the trigger. What if Mammon didn't know? What if it wasn't intentional? What if he had no idea how much he hurt the vulnerable idiots who chose to trust him? He was Greed personified, for all Blitz knew he had invented Greed--but if he'd been an angel once, was there any chance there was any of that nature left there? Blitz consciously loosened his grip somewhat, aware that squeezing too tightly could affect his aim, but he kept his eyes on the massive Sin.

"You hurt my friend and you threatened Asmodeus. What do you have planned for them, huh? Fucking tell me--or we find out how immortal you really are."

Mammon clearly wasn't expecting anyone, having made sure no one would come near his palace. Of course he slept peacefully ... despite the occasional dream he had involving Fizzarolli. He missed the little imp that was so full of life & energy.

What he wouldn't give to have him back. Maybe he should make a mental note of that. Hold on ———

The fuck ... was someone in his room?!

Upper hand lifts to rub the sleep from his eyes, a groggy groan escaping his lips as he sits up to turn the bedside lamp on. "Fuckin' hell." Of course it would be that one imp who crashed his clown pageant as Fizz's bodyguard or whatever. It was still ruined & he had a feeling this imp & Oz had something to do with it!

"Th' fuck are you doin' here ? " He growls, standing up from the bed. He doesn't sense deadly intent just yet. Just someone who chose some really, really shitty clothing. All black & torn jeans? What kind of a statement was that? Then again, if memory served, he was pretty sure this guy didn't know the first thing about style. 

Oh, well. He just knew he needed to get this guy out of his room. It was way too early for this shit. 

"Alright, c'mon ya lil dumpster diver. Time t' go back where ya came from." He slowly nears Blitz, brow lifting when he finally sees the gun they're holding at his side. Brows furrowed in thought, stopping just a few feet before the imp. What the hell was he planning to do? 

"Hate t' break it t' ya, but, that ain't gonna hurt me. Yanno I'm immortal, right ? " Not only that, but a fallen angel as well. At least he was pretty sure even angelic steel couldn't harm them. 

"Shit!" Blitz swore and clutched his hand to his chest. Mammon might look soft, but that son of a bitch was strong, a lot stronger than Blitz had been counting on--not that that was going to stop him. With a growl, he pulled a knife, its angelic edge glittering even in the darkness of the room, and held it ready to fight as he moved towards his gun.

"I'm plenty fuckin' durable," he said, his eyes always on Mammon's eyes, a deep sense of calm awareness settling in. This was a foe he shouldn't be taking on, but it was way too damn late for takebacks now. "And don't think that just because you look like the best snuggler in the entire fucking world, I'm going to be fooled or drawn in by your charm. Asshole." His tail was starting to thrash, and something glittered on the end--it looked like a knife of some sort, some kind of gleaming jewelry or weaponry, angelic steel with a bright edge and a filigreed center, delicate and strong, fixed over the spade.

"Tell me, swear to me, that you're never going to bring harm to Fizzarolli or Asmodeus. Promise me on something that means something to you," he was always moving as he spoke, keeping up a slow pace as he moved towards the side, always staying balanced, "and we won't have to find out tonight just how fragile Hell's magical infrastructure might be, when one of its main supports goes down."

Mammon froze as soon as that gun was raised to his throat. His own breathing stills as he stares at the imp holding the gun. It was a regular gun after all, wasn't it? Best not to think about it too much. He hasn't said a word, giving the other time to think what they were doing, or about to do. "Who even said I had anythin' planned fer Ozzie ? " He really didn't, nor did he know what this guy was even going on about. 

"You mean Fizzy ? Look, guy, I ain't fuckin' doin' anythin' but workin' on shit here. As much as I would love a visit from Fizzy & maybe definitely want him back, I ain't gonna force him."

No, no. Not force, but maybe trick him later down the line. Of course, this guy didn't need to know any of his plans. 

He didn't even know the other's name. 

"Listen, why don't ya calm down & ——— hah ! " Taking the opportunity as he sees that loosened grip, Mammon knocks the gun out of their hand & kicks it across the floor. "Fucking do that shit again to a sin & we'll see how durable you really are." 

"What I'm thinking about?" Blitz asked, then immediately wanted to kick himself for repeating the question. Fuck, he sounded like an idiot. He frowned, finally going still, and slowly lowered the hand holding the knife. "I guess I'm thinking..."

About the howling loneliness inside, now that he knew about Verosika's party, now that he knew he had ruined things with Stolas for good. Those thoughts were always there, always roiling around inside him now, cruel little razor-edged thoughts... and definitely not something to open up to Mammon about. Blitz had hated this guy since he was a kid, with how easily Mammon just won everyone the fuck over with his charm and his probably really good hugs, the way he had dominated Fizzarolli's life, even before Fizz started working for him...

Fuck. No. No getting personal with this guy.

A little grumpily, Blitz sheathed the knife. "I'm thinking that you swearing on your money sounds legit enough for me. And yeah, that... that's actually all I came here for. I don't like... there wasn't much of a plan other than maybe fight you, and now that apparently isn't, you know, necessary." He rubbed at his head, frowning, then abruptly straightened up and folded his arms. "What do you care what I'm thinking about, though? What are you thinking about?"

Mammon couldn't help but snicker, despite the little angelic knife the imp before him had suddenly pulled out. Where the fuck were these imps getting these angelic weapons?! "Awe, that's sweet. Yanno, I'd invite ya in fer a snuggle or two if ya hadn't broken in here in the first place." Yeah, it was probably the wrong time to tease, but there was an open invitation & like hell Mammon was gonna pass it up. 

His gaze never once leaves theirs, the smirk steadily fading into a frown. "Yer not gonna let go of this, are ya ? " He grumbles, brows furrowing into a slight glare. "FINE. I swear on my fuckin' money that I will not bring any harm to Fizzy or Ozzie, alright ? " Didn't mean he still couldn't tease Ozzie & whatnot. 

This imp just didn't have to know that part. 

"Now, enough with pullin' these angelic weapons out o' yer ass. I swear, yer worse than those mob imps." Although to be fair, Crimson's goons actually did good on their part. Not that he wasn't making any sort of comparison. "Is that all ya came here for, bust open a sin's door & threaten him ? Because, I think there might be somethin' yer hidin'. C'mon. We've opened up th' doors here ... literally. Tell ol' Mams what yer thinkin' about."