Tʜᴇ Fᴏʀɢᴏᴛᴛᴇɴ Rᴇᴀʟᴍs [Fᴀɴ Vᴇʀsɪᴏɴ]

A tall, sinuous figure draped in animated chains engraved with smiling faces, Marnivox wears a tattered maroon blazer over her hooks and iron-sinew musculature. Her face is a shifting patchwork of expressions sewn into flesh, always grinning. Her eyes gleam like polished shackles, and her breath smells faintly of scorched cinnamon.

Marnie is aggressively cheerful with the thinly-veiled menace of a reformed predator who really wants you to feel safe. She treats emotional vulnerability like a blood sport and is visibly thrilled when guests display trauma or existential doubt. She uses corporate jargon with demonic syntax and praises good behavior with pats from barbed, sentient tendrils.

Once a merciless torturer in the Iron Pits of Dis, Marnivox was reassigned to Avernus after a disastrous PR incident involving a celestial diplomat and an unauthorized fondue pot. Desperate to salvage her career, she reinvented herself as a hospitality expert, pitching a bold new initiative: “Make Damnation Welcoming Again.” Though her methods remain, shall we say, clingy, her enthusiasm was undeniable—and thus, she was assigned to oversee guest relations at the newly built Maw of Hospitality. Now, Marnie leads orientation sessions with an iron-toothed smile and hand-stitched welcome packets (bound in literal hands). She considers every guest a personal project, eager to untangle their souls through “empathic engagement”—which, in her mind, includes binding guests in warm chains of infernal memory to better "anchor them emotionally." She reports quarterly to a board of fiends who can’t decide if she's brilliant or a walking HR violation.