Ha. So that's when talking happens. Mammon shifts Fantasma into one hand so she can wave the other dismissively. "It's fine."

Out of nowhere, a tiny shotglass the perfect size for a frog suddenly materializes in midair and they take it between their fingers. "I have it covered." They told themself no frivolous uses of their magic, but this is for Fantasma. Thus, it's not frivolous. Setting it down on the nearest flat surface, they reach to take the jug.

"Are the webs part of the aesthetic or have you just not used this in a while?"