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Adam had been different since last extermination day.
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It started when Adam noticed a series of cameras following him throughout Pride. Black blood stuck to his face like B.O. to a Redditor, and as he reached up to his mask to wipe it off, he noticed a reflective glint of glass. Never one to shy away from his reflection, the archangel approached what, when coming closer to it, seemed to be an industrial cinematic camera. An old, rugged imp sighed and pulled a wrinkly cigarette from its mouth.
"Do you mind, asshole? I'm trying to film."
Adam didn't regard such a lower class when it attempted to talk to him, at least usually, but he had to admit his morbid curiosity got the best of him. To be fair, it was ridiculous to film the mass, pathetic, genocide of your fellow denizens.
"What's with these stupid ass cameras? It's pretty sad to digitize the failings of-"
The imp interrupted, its eyebags seeming to sink the more Adam graced its presence. "I'm gonna stop you right there, oh pompous dickhead. I know your shtick- I don't give a fuck- talk to Mammon if you have a fucking issue. Let me get back to my job."
Ink-colored blood splattered on Adam's cloak. Technically he was only supposed to kill sinners, and not hell spawn, but he was ADAM ! Who enforces anything against the first man? The name, Mammon, strikes his interest, though. He was starting to get bored of the constant begging for mercy from the sinners. Adam looked around; his exorcists had this under control. He had a few hours to investigate what Mammon was doing with all these cameras.
Adam was familiar with the Mammon, the sin of greed, it wasn't like he died yesterday. A citizen of heaven interacting with the sins wasn't exactly heard of before, though. The only sin he had had a conversation with was Lucifer, and if that was the basis for any other 'chat' with the rest of the sins, Adam would pass . He had certainly heard of Mammon though and even seen bits of his proposed clown competition (whatever the hell was going on there). The cameras in Pride were a new phenomenon, though, and he would be lying if he said he didn't have an itch of curiosity... and it wasn't like the Greed Ring was too far down.
It was settled: Adam would briefly make a trip down to Greed and see what was going on. Call it part of his angelic duties- perhaps even a visitation from the first father of Earth. Just a checkup on the offshoots of his seed, nothing more. He absolutely had no interest in the daily lives of hell spawn! It was also a rare occurrence that Lute wasn’t trailing after him like a lost puppy; call it fate.
Adam opened an angelic portal and stepped through to the glowing green side. Smog filled his lungs as his head popped through the holy gate. He hacked at the thick smoke curling up through his nose; Pride always had the distinct smell of cigarette smoke and sweat, but Greed reeked of petroleum and burnt rubber. His body followed his head through the portal, which promptly closed, and he grunted as he stretched his back.
Greed was vastly different than Pride, that was for sure. It was green, for one, which was a pleasant change from the ruby smattering that the sinners resided in. Factories lined the edge of Adam’s vision, and he quickly concluded the cause of his trouble breathing. As his head swung in searching for where Mammon could be, Adam catches a familiar glint of circus lights and partygoers. Bingo!
One of Mammon’s free hands scratched his belly while the others held heavy sacks of overflowing money. This may have been his most profitable extermination day yet! “ALLLL PROFITS GO TA HELPIN’ THE REBUILDING OF PRIDE!” He shouts out, like a carnival barker. It’s an obvious lie, and he doubts it has any sway on the morally corrupt people of Hell, but it never hurts to try!
Large screens fill the circus tent, but no show was being performed by Mammon, nor Fizzarolli, no... all eyes were on the angels in Pride. Bookies eagerly take bills from the claws of hell spawn clutched by their vices. As more unrest shook the sinners in Pride, it seemed the more people bet on the eternal losers. Mammon didn’t care- in fact he encouraged the support for the people of Pride: more money for him- err, the rebuilding of Pride!
Mammon would happily admit the best contestant of extermination day was Adam, first man of Earth. The sin had determined he’d make a great overlord had he not been an angel, and there’s no question about how much money Adam could’ve made him. Speaking of that guy... where did he go? Mammon’s eyes flitted over the different screens, but to no avail. Adam was gone! This would definitely impact his numbers... Mammon’s eyes narrow and his grip tightens around the bags of money.
Standing atop an impromptu bar, Mammon surveys the crowd of wallets- IMPS! - that encircle his stage. A contrasting color interrupts his perusal; he immediately notices the archangel that flaps into his circus. Mammon rubs his two lower hands together in anticipation: he’s about to make bank!
They make eye contact and Mammon’s filthy grin grows. Adam has a semblance of shock on his face as he takes in the screens showcasing his exorcist army slaughtering the sinners. This is what the cameras were for. Mammon beckons Adam over to him, which earns him a low huff and a grinding of teeth.
“I’m not a bitch.”
If Mammon cared, he would’ve prodded the angel more. There were many questions to be asked, but the only thing floating around in Mammon’s head were dollar signs. The sin also needed Adam to be cooperative to fulfil Mammon’s desire. An arm with a hand full of money wraps around Adam and pulls him closer.
“Nosey, ay? How would you like to strike a deal with me, and I’ll tell you what I know about the sinners?”
This lead, as all great things do, to Adam huffing and pouting as he walked down the streets of Heaven. He sipped on his syrupy soda as Lute trailed behind him; her back straight as an arrow and arms folded behind her. She looked like an obedient pet.
“Sir, I don’t mean to overstep, but you seem... different.”
It wasn’t Adam’s fault Mammon insisted on having those creepy robots of his clown contestant strewn about his circus. It didn’t even matter- it's not like Adam and Mammon were a couple (unheard of!). But something about it just peeved Adam. What was so much better about a robot than him, huh? It wasn’t like he was upset or anything, it was just frustrating. Why those robots? Couldn’t Mammon make some that looked like Adam? It was in these musings that Adam completely ignored Lute’s question, and her distrusting looks,
It wasn’t even that big of a deal; Adam had just been visiting Mammon (sure, outside of extermination day- but it wasn’t like that was uncalled for. Plenty of times Hell’s princess had come to talk to him about redemption or some stupid thing. This was purely for diplomatic reasons- to get information out of the sin!) like normal- to chat, to listen, to share- it was becoming a regular phenomenon. Adam had noticed something though, in the corner of his eye as he (flirted) TALKED with Mammon. An unlabeled bottle, half empty, sat next to one of Mammon’s creepy clown robots.
Adam began to notice certain things, things that, quite frankly, he should’ve noticed before; fuzzy handcuffs, whips, harnesses, things sexual in nature strewn about with no care. And, NO, it was NOT like he and Mammon were fucking. It was a business transaction: Mammon sold meet & greets of Adam in exchange for whatever information he had on a possible rebellion from the sinners of Pride. They barely even touched! Maybe a friendly pat on the shoulder, or there was that one time with the arm around his waist, oh and when Mammon picked him up like a bug, ohh and- but that was beside the point!
That had nothing to do with why he was grumpy, though. Absolutely nothing! Adam bit down on his straw as Lute groaned at his silence. Adam has angelic duties to do today, he was not going to let some green weirdo worm his way into his head.
What really sucked is that he did, in fact, worm his way into Adam’s head. Meeting with Sera: Mammon was sitting next to him and calling her bitter things. An exorcist briefing with Lute: Mammon laid in a spider web and winked at him. Wrestling with Abel: Mammon sat cross-legged and looked at him with a mischievous smirk. The angel couldn’t shake his stupid green clown.
Mammon could sense his plan working. Strategically placed innuendos perfectly painted the picture that he was having sex with his Fizzarolli robots. It was fun watching the way Adam shifted whenever he caught sight of the explicit objects. Mammon could sense it wasn’t because of their inherent nature (see: the self-proclaimed “Dickmaster”). It was fun to watch Adam squirm; someone who has built himself up so high who crumbles at the influence of a smarmy sin. Mammon would admit he thought Adam was cute, but that’s as far as his feelings could go. Adam was like Mammon’s prized pig. It wasn’t like Asmodeus and his pet; Mammon purely had this exchange for business reasons. And if sometimes those business reasons lead to Mammon’s tongue sliding up Adam’s neck- that was nobody’s business but theirs, please and thank you.
Mammon popped an onion ring in his mouth and thought of new schemes to perturb Adam. That was, he tried, he truthfully really did. But every scheme brought about the image of Adam and how atrociously cute he was and- Heaven above and Hell here he was going to puke. Mammon brought up his two upper arms to rub at his face. That familiar, all-consuming, feeling of devourment was knocking at his door once more, but this time it wasn’t money, nor food. It was Adam.
Mammon couldn’t help how greedy he was for the belittlement of the archangel; to crush him under his foot and revel in the pieces. To revel in Adam.
“What a facking joke.”
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Abel was going on about some mediocre movie he had recently watched- some romcom that Adam couldn’t be bothered to listen to. All that was on his mind was a sin that couldn’t seem to leave his mind alone. As Abel ranted, Adam thought about making a quick trip to see if Mammon... Uhh... needed help with anything! That’s what angels do, right? Something virtuosic or some bullshit Adam vaguely remembers. Despite Abel’s protests, Adam walks away from him to make his trip. He decided he would just travel directly to Mammon’s quarters so he wouldn’t have to wear a disguise.
Adam sneaks to a remarkably clean alleyway and opens up his all-familiar gateway. The comforting green greets him as he steps into the spider’s lair.
Mammon’s bed is a massive web with duvets, throw pillows, and various soft objects thrown haphazardly about. If the princess (you know, with the pea) were a spider, this is what her bed would look like. Adam doesn’t spot Mammon in this corner of his sanctuary. Boxes of crap pile to the ceiling and it looks more like a hoarder’s home than an all-important sin’s.
Adam walks through the maze of Mammon’s lair until he spots an amorphous green blob slithering down an adjacent path. He chases after it, hoping it could be Mammon.
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“Oh, you DICK,” Adam screeches.
Mammon’s head swivels toward Adam; bottle of lube in hand, methodically placing objects around the room. Adam looks both bemused and pissed at him.
“You were doing this to fuck with me?!”
This earns Adam a belly laugh from Mammon, who is curling into himself with guffaws. “Ya just caught on?”
Adam pounces on Mammon, who displays a shocked face as the duo crumple to the ground. Mammon grins as Adam throws a right hook at his face.
As Adam grows tired of his mediocre punches, Mammon brings a hand to caress his back. “Oi, cunt, what’s got ya so angry? It ain’t just me messin’ wit ya,” Mammon breathes. Adam scowls down at him and his stupid, greedy, heart thinks he's never seen anything so beautiful. Mammon’s smirk dips as he recounts the ways Asmodeus talked like that about Fizzarolli. He’s forced out of these thoughts as Adam collapses against his hefty chest.
“Fuck off. You are so gay, you bitchy asshole.”
Mammon plunges a hand into Adam’s, and something tells the sin he’s not all that upset about it.