as long as she's getting paid

As long as she knows she’s getting paid, Bex will do the sorts of things that a more moral bun might frown on.

It’s the beginning of the night, and the Rabbit Hole is just beginning to fill out. Only a few buns are in here so far, wandering between the casino and the bar. She’s keeping an eye on them, extremely aware of the state of their wallets. None of them look devastated enough to pounce on, to slide her way over. So for now, she sits in the corner, swirling a coaster with a single finger, and thinking. Tucked away in her pocket is Memmy, sleeping soundly.

Of course, in Burrowgatory, ‘a more moral bun’ is very relative. Buns live to their vices, to whatever extreme that may be. There are a few things that kind-hearted people will at least typically avoid, though. Like imposing on the people who are living in their own sin and manipulating them into feeding into yours. There’s a general sentiment of letting people chase their bliss, and while no one’s going to arrest you for imposing on other people’s sin, it’s definitely less liked by the nicer council of peers.

But Bex was never really one of the people that cared about how people thought of her. Not insofar as it impacting her self esteem. No, the only moments Bex truly cared about the world’s perception of her were ones that impacted her bottom line. If she was too openly atrocious about her money gathering practices or loan lending, others may hesitate to do business with her. So she kept most of the shadier things under wraps.

A new bun staggers in with a few friends, rowdy and disruptive. She throws half her upper body over the bar as she orders, giggling and giddy. Without counting, she throws down a handful of carats and turns back over to chat with her buddies. Clearly someone wealthy enough to splurge, but the people gambling here always have the chance to lose all that. Bex keeps a careful eye and retrieves Memmy from her pocket as the phloof begins to stir. Trying to lose the shark look in her eyes, she pats the small fluffball. It doesn’t pay to look hungrily at people you desperately want to rip money from; it more frequently pays to seem kind and approachable.

Some buns didn’t really need to worry about secrecy. Once you have enough money, no one can really do anything to stop you regardless of your immorality. Bex envies those people. The Angoras of the world, too far up in the social ladder to be touchable. Oh, sure, you can have dalliances with her. But once you’re able to buy out everyone’s debt in a room without blinking, that’s a sort of power that makes you a demon among buns. The church may claim Murmur has absolute power, but that’s only at the start. Once you get down here, devotion doesn’t get you as far as money does.

And Bex wants that more than anything. Money for the sake of money, power for the sake of power. It’s never been enough, not once in her life. She’s always too many steps away from being satisfied. Every avenue in her life is something that could be squeezed for just a few more carats, filled away into her business account to use and get her a few more carats. It cannot be enough, until she can buy anything she’d like out from under anyone she wants.

That journey continues with every single carat she gains. She observes the group of friends behind the rowdy bun, checking for clothing style, attitude, confidence. The ringleader of their little pack was stacked, but behind every showy group… 

There. A shorter, more meek looking bun. More humble clothing, hanging near the back of the pack. They laugh just after the ringleader every time, falling off her every word. Every now and again, they look nervously towards the casino. Like they know it’s where the group is going next, and they’re worried about it.

Bex grins, almost grinch-like. She plants a little kiss on top of Memmy’s head, and the phloof squeaks once. She takes a moment to put him in her pocket, adjusting so his fluffy head and horns are clearly visible. She’s just a kindhearted bun with an adorable pet, of course! No issue. 

She plays the game of all smiles, a touch of flirting, and (after she figures out what this guys deal is) a vague sense of pitying. No one likes to be pitied, and it takes just the right touch to imply that she wishes he was able to make himself seem as clever as he really was by winning those slots and getting that grand prize.

Before the end of the night, she’s managed to get this young bun on the hook for 500 carats. Of course, that’s before she lets that loan sit for a few days to rack up interest. Almost none of the buns that have ever taken out a loan with her have sought her out in time to dodge those nasty extra clauses. Having the money in hand is just so tempting that those intoxicated buns typically don’t look twice at all that silly little small text. But they will be on the hook for it. And Bex will follow up, with whatever means necessary. She’s already written down notes on all of the people who came here with that bun tonight, just to make sure she can track him down to loan shark if needed.

She never claimed to be moral. In fact, mostly the opposite

In her opinion, some people are just too greedy for attention to be paid to them. They think that money is the path to having the object of their attention fall for them. Or that it’s the path for that dopamine rush of a big casino gamble. 

Bex knows the truth though. The only useful path money can lead you to is more money.