faustianbroker

[faustianbroker]

TIMING: Current LOCATION: Storm's Eye Trench PARTIES: Mateo (@fearhims3lf) & Leviathan (@faustianbroker) SUMMARY: Two strangers meet on a dock and decide to go blow up a beak. CONTENT WARNINGS: gun (weapon) use

—

There was no formal plan. How could there be? Most people didn’t know what the hell was going on, and Leviathan wasn’t going to stand up and tell them how to defeat this thing. It had gotten by so far by skirting under the radar of the powers that be, eliminating any witnesses that might have been able to report back on its turncoat status. No one could know, it thought as it stood there on the docks, staring at the beak in the distance and seething. No one could know until the final blow could be dealt. This demon had a physical form, and Leviathan knew all too well that bodies were capable of being severely damaged. It also knew that Emilio and some others had decided to start attacking the parts of the demon they could see, be it a massive leg sticking out of the ground or the smaller versions of this beast that seemed to form up from the very ooze that dripped from its three-story-tall feathers. This would help. It couldn’t instruct anyone, but the ones that were wise to this sort of thing were starting to figure it out on their own. Now, how best to —

A loud thud to its left drew the demon’s attention away from the horizon, eyes falling on a sizable case of some kind. Beside it stood a stranger, and Levi watched curiously as he unlatched it and started to assemble… something. Some kind of weapon. Levi looked up at the beak on the horizon, and smirked. “Do you… need a hand?” Though it seemed obvious, it wanted to know exactly what this person planned on doing. Perhaps their intentions were aligned. 

—

Well, by some miracle, the idea that he had had weeks ago turned out to be an actual option. Mateo was only mostly kidding when he said that people should come up with explosive ideas to take down the giant things in the ground. And then people actually started doing it. 

They used blunt objects, which weren't ineffective, but those took way too much time for Mateo's liking. He'd given out a few grenades here and there, but he saved the best weapon for himself. The best hunk of rocket launching metal nefarious funds could buy. An M20A1 bazooka. 

Mateo had never had a use for it before, but there was no better time than right then, when the last piece that needed shooting was several hundred yards away, in the middle of the water. He smirked to himself as he unlatched his case and began assembling his weapon, only barely registering that someone spoke to him. The guy was handsome, in a Baywatch sort of way that Mateo was into, but didn't really grab his attention entirely with his bazooka in front of him. 

“A hand? Uh…not really? Just gotta get this thing together and aim. Not much to it.”

—

“Huh. What’s the range on that thing?” He nodded his head at the beak. “If that’s your target, which I’m assuming it is, it’s much farther away than it looks.” Which was true — the beak was far more massive than anyone standing on the shore realized, and it was common to misinterpret the size of objects that far out at sea. “It’s out in the trench, you know? Storm’s Eye Trench. Bit of a swim. But… I could be convinced to give you a lift.” One might assume, from the boats docked near them, that he meant on such a vessel. But of course he didn’t, because he was a sea demon, and swimming was what he did best. 

“Also? I bet you’d get the best bang for your buck if you were able to aim that thing right down into the beast’s throat, eh? I could help with that.” 

—

Mateo arched a brow with a huff, almost offended at the question. Then again, not everyone had a propensity to use lethal weaponry. Shrugging, Mateo answered enthusiastically, “It's about a thousand yards, but its most effective range is closer to three-hundred yards. That's when the biggest boom happens.” Mateo pulled out a missile and loaded it carefully into the bazooka, latching the case shut and shouldering it as he stood. 

“How far do you think it is?” It couldn't be over a thousand yards, could it? If he really needed to, Mateo thought he could possibly find a patch of land in the middle of the water, but he'd still need help at that point. Being surrounded by salt had its disadvantages, and Mateo didn't think he'd be able to blip his way above it. Whether he liked it or not, he may very well need to ask for a lift. Or convince the guy to do it, as he so lovingly stated. 

“So what'll it take, Baywatch? ‘Cause, uh, if I touch that water, we're kinda fucked. You really think you can use one of these boats to get me over there and near the mouth?”

—

Leviathan glanced over at the boats, then scoffed. “No, not with those,” it answered simply, shrugging off its jacket and letting it fall to the dock beneath their feet. “You’re in luck, I was already planning on heading out there and seeing what damage I could do on my own. That weapon of yours seems a foolish thing to turn my nose up at, however.” Fingers grasped the hem of its shirt and pulled it over over his head, sharp gaze cutting across the horizon to meet Mateo’s. “You said you can’t touch the water, right? I’ll keep that in mind. Give me just a moment.” Where it would normally have dove directly into the water, it apparently needed to keep some part of itself dry for this unexpected passenger, and its head would be easiest. This form would need a long, flexible neck, it thought as it conjured up the vision of the monster it was prepared to become. The boots were kicked off and the pants were quick to follow, but the humanoid’s form was already shifting as it stepped off the edge of the dock. Scales bloomed across his skin, his bottom half fusing and reshaping itself as it disappeared beneath the dark waves, one hand catching on the dock to keep its head out of the drink. Those fingers became claws and the whole creature grew rapidly in size, losing that humanoid shape in favor of something that would be swift in the water, and dangerous to a massive bird beak. 

Soon, all that sat above the water was the massive, dragon-like head, the huge maw full of teeth parted in an amphibious grin as the sea demon flexed the sailfin that ran down its neck and back, letting out a hiss and lowering its head onto the dock so the stranger could climb aboard. 

Didn’t catch your name, it spoke into the other’s mind. I am Leviathan.

—

Okay so the sexy lifeguard was getting undressed, and had there been cameras, the scene would've obviously been in slow-motion. “Yeah, can't touch the water. And if I do, I'm gonna be really pissed. So will my partners.” Mateo rolled his eyes, believing this was turning into a show off session. 

But of course! It wasn't! At all. And in a matter of seconds, the sexy lifeguard was something from a thalassophobia TikTok. 

Mateo blinked and fell back in surprise and a little panic. He crawled backwards, minding the giant maw in front of him. If his heart was still beating, Mateo knew it'd be pounding, but instead his fear turned his skin into ice. It paralyzed him momentarily, but Mateo brushed it away and grabbed for his cannon. He aimed it, ready to shoot until the voice of what used to be the man entered his mind? What the fuck?

“How-how are you doing that?!” Mateo’s finger hovered over the trigger, trembling. “What the fuck are you?!”

—

Hey now, let’s not be hasty, stranger, Leviathan warned, its half-dozen eyes carefully watching the man’s finger hover over that trigger. I’m trying to help you, remember? Does my origin really matter? It was never usually quick to admit what it was, because most people — understandably — heard the word demon and freaked out. Especially people who had been exposed to one for as long as the people of this town had. It didn’t matter that Leviathan had little interest in enslaving them or basking in their worship like most demons, they would naturally assume the worst and work against it. And right now, that was the last thing Leviathan needed. 

I need this demon gone. For my sake as much as for anyone else’s. That was only a half-truth: Leviathan would suffer the worst fate of all if this beast was released, one that it could not speak of. Would not speak of, because that would be giving it too much credit. It would not work. Leviathan would not allow it. Help me kill it. I promise to return you safely to shore. Its head still rested on the planks of the dock, reptilian lips pulling back to expose those teeth in another unsettling grin. The clawed, webbed foot that still clung to the wood lifted slightly into the air, and what could possibly be this beast’s version of a pinkie finger was raised to the stranger, curled harmlessly away from him, about the size of his head and ready to shake on it. Your name?

—

“D'uh…uh…huh?!” Putting the weapon aside for a moment, Mateo scrubbed at his face until he saw stars. Of course sea monsters had to be real if undead were. He'd seen fairies and human alligators, and even damn dancing records. Nothing should've surprised Mateo by then, but seeing something like Godzilla in the flesh felt monumental. The thing (the guy?) was huge!

“Fuck. Um, my name is Mateo.” He said aloud, “Wait, do I have to talk out loud or are you reading my mind?” His brows sewed together worriedly, “Actually, stay out of it! Don't need you sifting through my private shit, okay?” Huffing, Mateo scrubbed his face one last time and inspected the giant digit before grabbing his stuff and stepping onto it warily. 

“You better not drop me.”

—

No, I am not reading your mind, Leviathan responded, amused. Speaking aloud would be beneficial. It couldn’t really pick out specific words if it wanted to, more like intent, but that thankfully wasn’t a passive ability. I simply lack the necessary anatomy to speak human language like this. It blinked again as Mateo climbed (begrudgingly) aboard, moving slowly away from the dock as it lifted him up where he could rest on the demon’s head, using its sailfin for support. 

I wouldn’t dream of it.

Leviathan was fast in the water, even having to keep its head and neck elevated above the waves for Mateo. The beak on the horizon grew larger and larger as they approached, even surpassing Leviathan’s own scale, restricted as it had been by the shallow water near  the docks. That was okay, though. They just needed to pry it open. Leviathan swam right up to it, pausing for a moment to ‘speak’ to Mateo. Hold on tight, I’ve got to get higher. Once given the signal, the demon hooked its claws into the beak, relishing the satisfying way it crunched and cracked in its grip. More legs made themselves apparent as more of its body slipped out of the water, all digging into the beak and helping propel it upward. Leviathan snaked around the beak like a bit of rope, fully circling it several times as they rose up, up, up into the air. The bird demon’s maw was narrowing the higher they got, and once Leviathan could keep its lower half securely in place, it used three pairs of front legs to get leverage in the crack that separated the upper beak from the lower, wrenching it open slowly. 

As it did this, there was a terrible sound from deep down in the bird demon’s gullet, and a cacophony of feathers as smaller versions of itself started to cascade upward toward them, flying frantically with gnashing teeth and clacking beaks.

Ah. This may be a problem, Leviathan mused, moving its head out of the way as the flock of demons burst from the beak, swarming overhead before starting their attack on the pair.

—

So Godzilla had taken a mare onto its body like a noble steeds, venturing forth toward a giant beak with legs on it. Godzilla and a mare. Working together to destroy a beak. Not a sentence Mateo had expected to curate in his head, but it was done. Well, not really. Because of course not! Of course they had to rise even higher. Of course more legs appeared. And of course, there were also demons to take care of.

Mateo scrubbed at his face and set the strap of his weapon over his chest, securing it tightly against him. For good measure, he even latched a carabiner around a reinforced loop on his vest that fed a metal wire to the weapon itself. No way Mateo was going to let their one shot get away. Even if he was thrown into the water, there was still a chance. He just hoped it didn't come down to that. 

“What do we do? I got a pistol, but I doubt that's gonna work on these things.” As he looked around for a solution, Mateo was bombarded by small beaks. They tore a few holes into his vest and jostled the mare around a bit, but after a few swings of his fist, he had just a moment of reprieve to yell out. “Can you call an exorcism?! Puta madre…!” Mateo was knocked away by a flurry of feathers, thrown to the side until he was sliding down Leviathan's side helplessly. He scrambled to find purchase, finding none with his hands, but by some miracle hooking onto one of the smaller spikes with the strap to his weapon. 

Mateo dangled dangerously close to falling, unable to get himself back up while he was continually attacked. “Please tell me you got a priest on standby!” He called out bitterly, with just a hint of irritation. “Or you got some kind giant laser radiation blast you can shoot out since you're basically Godzilla!”

—

Well, this was frustrating. Leviathan reeled back from the onslaught of bird demons, snapping at them as they swarmed around its head and divebombed its passenger. A pistol will work, it corrected Mateo, they are only flesh and bone. It took a bite out of the air, crushing a half dozen man-sized lesser demons between its jagged teeth. 

No. But I have an idea.

Spitting out the lesser demons, Leviathan craned its long neck around to scoop Mateo up onto its muzzle. Climb in my mouth, you’ll be safest there, it told him, jaws agape. Once he’d done as instructed, the demon clambered up the last stretch of the massive beak to its tip and dug its claws in, wrenching the massive mouth open like a living pry bar. It was a slow affair, and Levi made sure to keep its mouth slightly ajar so Mateo could see, but closed enough that the lesser demons couldn’t get to him, try as they might. 

Finally, Leviathan pulled the beak open enough to slip inside, using its front and hind limbs to keep it that way and angling its head carefully downward. Take your shot, straight down into the throat it spoke into Mateo’s mind, glad that it did not have to try and speak aloud with a person sitting on its tongue. When you do, I will climb back out and get us as far away as possible from here. Remain in my mouth, so you aren’t touched by the seawater when I dive in. I won’t swallow you.

Probably.

—

“Your–your mouth?!” Something cold ran down Mateo's back at the prospect of being in a creature's mouth, growing colder still as he was tossed around a little with its muzzle. Sure, he was Baywatch for a moment, but the giant bite he just took of the demons set Mateo on edge. He could very well be eaten and die a miserable, slobbery death. Then again, if they didn't destroy the damn beak, everyone, including Mateo, was going to die anyway. There wasn't much of a choice.

Gritting his teeth, Mateo allowed his body to be moved. He refused to let himself gag, ignoring the way his feet sank slightly into Levi's squishy tongue and the way the inside of his mouth smelled. While Levi did whatever he needed, Mateo was only jostled around slightly, though it was still enough to cause him to trip. He caught himself on one of Levi's wet teeth and grimaced. 

“Just had to be your damn mouth, huh? Not really my thing to be swallowed whole.” A small chuckle escaped Mateo at his comment, and he shook his head in disbelief. Never did he think he'd be in Godzilla's mouth, preparing for what felt like a final showdown. Even if they didn't make it, Mateo always did say he wanted to go out with a bang. That could be his chance, even if it felt a bit premature. 

Hopefully Wyatt and Xóchitl weren't mad at him for long if that was the case. 

“Okay.” Mateo said breathlessly and anxiously while he steadied his footing and prepped his weapon. At that range, the bazooka was going to cause some serious damage. Enough to likely see if from a few miles away. 

“Go!” When Levi finally opened his mouth to reveal their target, Mateo swallowed thickly. His finger trembled as it hovered over the trigger, but remained firm against Mateo's shoulder while he took aim with the scope. The throat seemed long enough to give them time to flee from the explosion, but there was no way to tell until he took the shot. 

Smiling, Mateo pulled the trigger with a whisper to himself. “Boom.”

—

The moment it heard the weapon discharge, Leviathan was snapping its mouth shut again and blocking off the back of its throat with its tongue in an attempt to make good on the promise that it wouldn’t swallow Mateo. It kicked the beak open as far as it could, its long body sliding out of the enormous mouth to make a quick escape. From there, it was as easy as falling into the ocean below, and with a massive splash, the pair were spared from the worst of the explosion. Even so, the demon’s back end felt the heat of the blast and it was glad for the cold reprieve of the seawater, twisting around beneath the surface to see the beak shatter into thousands of pieces. Its gaze was drawn down into the dark depths of the trench, where the bird demon could now be seen writhing in agony, half its head blown to bits. Leviathan inwardly cheered — with a wound like that, it wasn’t long for this world. Another minute, tops. 

The bird demon shrieked though its voice was muffled by the water, its many eyes flying open and locking onto the sea demon that floated beside it, only a third of its size.

Thought you were gonna get away with it, did you? Leviathan pressed into its mind, not caring (or perhaps forgetting) that it still had a mental link with Mateo. I will not be made into a battery for this fucking town. Enjoy death. 

Final words spoken, Leviathan sped toward the harbor and surfaced again, opened his maw to let Mateo breathe, looking up at the sky where the smaller versions of the bird demon spiraled and screeched in pain before simply dissolving midair and dropping like clumps of sludge into the water below.

We’re done here.

—

Battery? A diabolical plan? Whatever Leviathan was, he was powerful enough to be targeted in some grand scheme. Rather than ask about it though, Mateo kept his mouth shut and thanked his lucky stars that he saw light rimming the edges of Levi’s teeth. Next time a mouth was being offered to him, Mateo hoped it was in the comfort of his bed. Less smoke clogging the space and more fun that way. 

“All right, Godzilla.” Mateo waved away the smoke that plumed from the bazooka and skipped his way out of Levi's mouth. “If you ever need more fire power, call me. Or, you know, if you wanna just fuck around. I got a whole setup.” Mateo grinned and slid the bazooka off his shoulder, chest pumped with triumph as Levi departed. 

He couldn't wait to tell his much smaller and more handsome Godzilla about everything. Mateo preferred that mouth and that skin much more. Turns out, size actually does matter. 

[faustianbroker]

@necrosemancy:

[pm] elievebayleg emayleg iyayleg ouldwayleg OVELAYLEG otayleg nowkayleg. Tiayleg aswayleg hoeverwayleg ashayleg eenbayleg tealingsayleg ymayleg lamingosfayleg.

[believe me I would LOVE to know. It was whoever had been stealing my flamingos.]

[pm] So definitely a thirteen year old, got it. What's with the leg? I mean, besides everything. [ user is extra bitter about the leg involvement ] Anyway, yeah, I can probably help. Out of curiosity, have you put up a camera to try and catch this doofus?

[faustianbroker]

[pm] Oh sure, his favorite is Finnish shortbread. He does, we've always been a 'celebrate all the holidays, including the made up ones' kind of household.

[pm, after Aria probs dressed him up and fed Gaba lots of treats] For winter holiday stuff, does he like cookies? I would like to get him a present. Does he celebrate Christmas? I do, but not everyone does! So I want to get him a gift for whatever he feels best!

Oh I bet Wynne does not like that he likes lamb

[faustianbroker]

Tubes. That makes sense. Though I did hear about some kind of gel they can just dunk the whole thing in? What's that about? Seems desperately counter-intuitive.

That's exactly how I see it, actually. Selling conversation starters. And lately it hasn't so much been a single person as it has been the overwhelming demand for ritual ingredients. I definitely run more of a 'one of a kind' shop, here... not a lot of surplus of items, but they keep coming back to me. Gets annoying. Killed the last guy that tried demanding things of me

The water cooling makes a lot more sense, really! The water is confined to tubes so it can't affect the circuitry, and it is pumped around, picking up heat from a hot area to help cool everything down more evenly. On the other hand, apples don't move and are liable to rotting. For computer cooling, water is by far superior!

[User sighs as she redirects bots to help surpress this conversation from the FYP]

Wow! You must be one of the Amity Road shopkeepers. I can imagine that does draw in a specific type of crowd. Some people need to have a conversation starter ready to go, i guess. What's your worst encounter this week?

[faustianbroker]

[pm] odayleg emonologistsdayleg nowkayleg owhayleg otayleg ixfayleg tupidsayleg ursescayleg?

[do demonologists know how to fix stupid curses?]

[ user stares at this for a solid thirty seconds before it clicks ]

[pm] What thirteen year old did you piss off?

[faustianbroker]

TIMING: July 2024 LOCATION: The Jones' home PARTIES: Leviathan (@faustianbroker) & Wynne (@ohwynne) SUMMARY: Wynne has been leaving food for Leviathan at the top of the basement stairs, and one day, they decide to venture down into the dark. CONTENT WARNINGS: n/a

—

As far as basements were concerned, this wasn’t a terrible one to be stuck in while you waited for your wounds to heal to a point that you wouldn’t make a complete disaster out of the house above. Also maybe because you weren’t quite ready to interface with the other household members yet. Teddy had been emotionally jarring enough, and there were plans to be mulled over. Plans that required concentration and intricate ritual spells. It needed to be left alone to take care of these things, and so it was, save for Teddy occasionally checking in on it to see how it was healing. These machinations were hidden from its child, from anyone who might ask, and it was content. 

Then one day, the inviting scent of human food wafted down the narrow staircase. Leviathan lifted its massive head, jaws parting as it took in the smell. Curiosity drew it to the bottom of the stairs. At the top sat a plate of food. It was not Teddy’s cooking—Teddy would have brought it all the way down into the bowels of the home, anyway. But Teddy also knew that Leviathan did not require such things. Still, it was enticing. 

It had to have been Wynne. 

The demon made itself smaller, leaving a mess of sea foam at the bottom of the steps as it crawled to the top of the stairs and scarfed down the meal that had been left for it. The taste was homey and familiar, and filled Leviathan’s chest with a warmth that had been lacking since its reunion with its child. This act, Wynne silently leaving food and Leviathan heaving itself up the staircase each day to partake went on for a while, becoming part of a routine that the demon enjoyed. It had more strength in its breast now as it called upon Orville, Henrietta, and Ichabod. The lesser demons responded hastily to their master’s call, reclaiming their earthly bodies after taking pieces of Leviathan’s own as their building materials. They looked just as they had on the day it had left this plane, and one by one, they tramped up the staircase to follow the orders they’d been given. 

This set Leviathan’s recovery back a bit, but it would be worth it, it knew. It lay in a pool of its own blue blood, still smaller than it had been on the day it had arrived, but just as beastly. Its tail was severed at the base, gone now, transformed into the three humans that left the basement. 

Orville opened the door, stepping into the home they had never been allowed to set foot in before today, companions right behind them. Short black hair, facial piercings, and dark clothing gave them a menacing appearance, one that contrasted starkly against the blonde-haired, pink-clad Henrietta behind them… and the owlish young man behind her, who was Ichabod. As the three came into view, they saw another person coming their way. This person seemed startled by their sudden arrival, but the trio paid them no mind, moving silently through the house toward the front door and leaving without a word. 

Leviathan heard the door click shut again and let out a soft, rattling sigh. Claws swiped over the strange symbols on the ground, smearing them until they were unrecognizable. It was ready to sleep through the regeneration process until it heard the door open again. Light cascaded down the steps, and it waited for one of the lesser demons to call out to it, but no such voice came. Instead, it was only footsteps. Footsteps… and that delicious smell of well-cooked food. 

—

There was a demon in Teddy’s basement. This wasn’t exactly out of the ordinary, though it could be said that there was no such thing as ordinary on this estate — but suffice it to say, there were demons in the basement sometimes. This particular one, though, made Wynne feel even more apprehensive than the Gabagools and Blanketaurs of the demon world. The Leviathan was back. It wasn’t dead and it was back and from what they could gather, it was suffering some kind of consequence from its actions against their gythraul.

They were not sure how to go about it. On one hand, they were glad that Teddy had their parent back again, but on many other hands, it was a situation that did their head in. Not knowing how to approach a situation was par of the course for Wynne, though — they grit their teeth through confusion every single day. Life made little sense, especially outside of the estate, and this was just another thing that was strange and unsettling.

Though they wondered if the demon was mad at them in one way or another, they did end up offering food. Not in the way they had once offered food to a demon, just in the way where they’d made too much stew one night and had put it on the basement stairs without much of a word. They also wondered if they were mad at the demon for a while, for what had happened with Padrig and its failure to mention that yet another sacrifice was needed to end the cycle of human sacrifice among Protherians. They hadn’t yet found an answer, but they’d continued putting tubs and plates of food on the edge of the stairs without as much as a word.

Until that one day, when three people left the basement. Wynne stared at them with their mouth slightly agape, a question on the tip of their very visible tongue but none asked as the others passed them without a word. They clutched the bowl with a summery salad they were holding tightly, wondering what it was the Leviathan was doing in the basement with those strange-looking individuals. Maybe it was better not to know.

Still, their curiosity was piqued and as they opened the basement door this time they did not place the plate there and scurry off. They descended, heart hammering in their throat and not stopping once their eyes fell on the demon laying there. Their knuckles whitened as they continued to clutch the bowl. “You’re … hurt.” It was still large and monstrous and very capable of biting them, though Wynne didn’t think it would want to. They held out the bowl, not sure how the other was supposed to eat from a human plate when it looked the way it did. But it had managed the past days, too. “I – well, I tried a new recipe. It is salad, but it’s not cold. You know? Kind of lukewarm? Because I put some spinach in it that I just stirred, and also this thing called halloumi, do you know it? I’d never used it before. It squeaks.” They stopped themself then, the waterfall of words ending before they could ask if the demon had molars in that big mouth. Their cheeks were growing red. “I mean … hi.”

—

“Indeed,” it agreed with the human's assessment, pleased to see them in person. A bowl was held out to it and Leviathan’s bestial mouth curled into what one could perhaps call a smile, though it was toothy and unintentionally menacing. Humanoid hands with long, clawed fingers reached delicately for the offering, Leviathan pulling its bizarre anatomy up into a seated position. Two legs were crossed in front of it while two more still had their feet flat on the floor, bent into something of a squat to support its weight as it sat up straight, now that its tail was gone. Two additional arms unfurled from its sides and planted large, webbed hands on the floor as it leaned forward, allowing Wynne to place the bowl in its hands rather than taking it from them.

“It squeaks? I have never heard of it before.” It paused, then chuckled. “Thank you. Hello.” It held the bowl to its scaly chest, but did not immediately move to sample it. Instead, it regarded the child curiously, blinking at them with its half dozen eyes before drawing in a long, thoughtful breath and speaking again. 

“Tell me, Wynne. How have you been faring? I regret that there was no time to linger after…” It let the sentence die in the space between them. 

—

It was impossible to understand how the multi-limbed creature before them could be, so Wynne did not even attempt to. They simply handed the bowl into the human-enough hands, trying not to think about those sharp teeth and other things they had sunk into. And yet, in the back of their mind, they thought of how claws from this demon had sliced open Padrig as if his skin was plastic packaging. How that had happened only after they had pointed their trembling finger. How he’d sank those teeth in Wyvss’Kgorr’s head. 

“Oh. Well, it is cheese.” Too many eyes were staring at them and they regretted it, coming down here. Face to face with a demon that was hurt – in part because of them – and could still devour them without second thought. And they didn’t think it would … but they remembered, the snapped neck of Padrig. 

But the demon spoke to them as if it was human and they were catching up after a time spent separate. Wynne was not sure what eyes to look into so they looked at their hands in stead, wondering if it blamed them for having no chance to stick around after what had gone on at the estate. “I am … faring.” They gave a glance upward. “It’s been nice, here. On the beach. Things have been weird in town, but weird is normal I think. Here, at least.” They felt a pang of sadness at the realization that they didn’t feel exactly empowered after all that had gone down, but there was something, at least, “I might want to go to school.” 

They shrugged, looking up. “How have you … been faring?”

—

The creature nodded along as they spoke, a low, rumbling sound tumbling from long, slightly parted jaws, as if it was humming in agreement. The sound stopped when it was addressed with a question, and Leviathan sat up a little straighter. It slowly swung its head around to look back at its stump of a tail for a moment, then refocused its gaze on Wynne. “I have… been better,” it admitted, the hands and feet occupied with holding it upright shifting slightly on the bloody, sticky floor. “But,” it added quickly, leaning its head down to sniff at the food offering. It smelled good. Leviathan wondered if the cheese would squeak between its fangs. “School, you say? That is good.” It had continued to send a much younger Teddy to school, making sure they adhered to a human learning curriculum. It didn’t want them to fall behind among their peers, but rather advance past them. And they always had, they always had. 

This one, this human Wynne, seemed to have a bit of a late start. But — “Late is better than never,” it spoke the thought aloud. “For what, do you think? As a focus. They do… usually have focuses, yes?” Its comprehension of the adult education system was a bit more lacking than the child education system. “Oh, I know, perhaps Greek mythology? I love Greek mythology.” It paused, cocking its head to one side. “Ah. But what do you love?” While it waited to hear the answer, it ducked its head into the bowl, munching away at the food in a way that sort of resembled a demented horse eating from a feed bag.

—

It was a startling thing, to see something as powerful and old like the Leviathan harmed. It was proof that nothing was truly sacred, that all things could be and perhaps would be harmed. Wynne swallowed their pessimism, but it lodged in their throat. “I guess there aren't really … demon doctors you can call. Right?” Maybe there were. It would make sense if there were, actually, but if there were, why was the Leviathan still hurt? Why were there no magical bandages or pills around? Why was the floor stained with what they figured was blood, even though it was blue?  

“I think I am late to a lot of things but early to others,” they said. “I am not sure yet. Maybe … something with animals, or helping people. I want to learn how to do that. I think I know in some ways, but not all the ways. Like proper healthcare ways, you know? I don't want to be a doctor, though, but maybe … I don't know. Nursing. Or helping someone who is an animal doctor.” Wynne had learned about how university worked from Ariadne, though it certainly still dizzied them. “I don't know a lot of Greek mythology, but I know about the labyrinth. I would like to learn more. What is your favorite myth?” They were quiet for a moment, then inquisitively tacked on, “Were you alive, then?”  

—

Healing was not always such a challenge. Historically, it had never been. But that was part of the deal. “Sometimes you must sacrifice for the things that you want,” it mused. “In this case, no. There are no demon doctors I can call. I must bear my wounds.” It was said matter-of-factly, lacking any kind of malice or regret. Leviathan knew, of course, that the child likely blamed themself. Or at least worried about it being angry over what had happened, but it wasn’t. It had made an informed decision, and things had played out in a way it had always known was a possibility. 

Lifting its head from the bowl, it nodded thoughtfully as Wynne explained their thoughts on education. They were ambitious, that was good. They asked about its favorite myth, and it parted those long jaws in a grin. “Ahh, well… I have always been attracted to the legend of Prometheus. His fondness for humanity led him to steal the gift of fire from Hephaestus, you see, and he gave it to the humans to help them. Zeus discovered this transgression and he was punished for this for decades, but it was a brave thing to do.” The demon cocked its head to one side, the spiny fins that raced along its back flaring as it took a long, deep breath. “And yes, I was alive then. I have… always been alive.” It blinked at Wynne. “And I have always had a fondness for your kind.”

—

Was that true? Was sacrifice truly necessary in order to get what one wanted? Wynne found it a saddening notion. They hoped the Leviathan was just talking about the smaller sacrifices in life, the ones people meant when talking about giving up coffee or muffins. They wondered what it was the demon had wanted, to begin with. Had it truly been to help them? Or had it wanted the fight, the glory of defeating a demon and slaying a human the way it had? “As long as it's personal sacrifice,” they said quietly, “And not other's lives. But … I am sorry. That there are no demon doctors. Do you heal faster than people like me?”

It would be presumptuous to draw a parallel between the demon and this Prometheus, because to do so was to compare themself with those humans he had helped. And yet, they saw the similarities. “Cruel, that he was punished. By who? Zeus?” They weren't entirely sure who that was, in all truth, nor why he would punish this Prometheus. “You're similar to him, then, right? You and him, both being fond of … humans.” What had become of Prometheus? Was he still alive, too, or was it just the demons that lived this long? Wynne felt themself dizzy with it all, just as they found the fact that the Leviathan had been alive for thousands of years (if not more) overwhelming. “You … don't look your age. I mean, you are like — it must be strange, to live that long.” Their mind went to Ariadne, who might live for centuries herself. It had to be sad, to outlive so much. Death still had a purpose. Infinite life was unnatural, but then … it wasn't like demons like the Leviathan couldn't die. “Sad, maybe. But you seem to make it work.”

—

“Generally speaking, yes. I heal quite quickly. This was a… rare scenario. But that’s alright, I’ll recover in time.” It smiled a wide, toothy grin at them. “Especially with such thoughtful gifts of food.”

“Yes, by Zeus. A god of gods, if you will… someone not to be trifled with.” Like Prometheus, Leviathan had been caught. Punished. Strapped to its own proverbial pillar with its own proverbial eagle pecking at its organs each day, only for them to regenerate each night  and leave it in a cycle of pain and torment. Its current situation was perhaps less dramatic, but no less confining. Still, these matters could not — and would not — be spoken with the child. “Hm.” It gave a thoughtful hum, eyes glancing down toward the bowl of salad, nearly finished. “I suppose it is strange, though I’ve grown used to it. I was awake long before humans came along, and I had many things to observe while I waited for them to grow into creatures that could hold conversation.” It smiled again. “Perhaps it sounds sad to you, who can only experience so few things at a time. For me, it was invigorating. Exciting. I never knew where life would bloom next, and centuries only felt like seconds.”

—

It seemed to be those that healed easily that seemed so very unphased by their injuries. Wynne thought of Emilio, often nursing one injury or another, and then the Leviathan … “Time heals some wounds,” they said sagely, as they didn’t believe it healed all. At least not in a human lifespan. Maybe it did in one that was infinite.

“I do not enjoy trifling with people anyway, but I’d certainly dislike to trifle with someone like that.” Which was mildly ironic, considering the way they had organized the murder of a greater demon with the help of the demon across from them right now. That had been only once, though. Aside from that, Wynne didn’t tend to trifle. (Except, maybe, for that time at the banshee place.) They were quiet for a moment, taking in what the Leviathan was putting down. “I guess it’s all you’ve ever known too, right? Being alive, I mean. Not the way the world is.” No one could possibly be used to the way the world was, considering it was so prone to change. “That makes sense, though. It keeps being interesting, whatever happens. I’m always intrigued by whatever I learn next. Sometimes in a bad way, though. But mostly good.”

—

There was careful consideration of their words as they spoke them, things not said in many ways outshining what was. Leviathan paused to reflect on what it was that they meant, but had not spoken aloud. Some wounds. Not all. But Levi did not have wounds, did it? Not in that sense. Not beyond the physical ones that disfigured it now, that would be better by the end of the week. Its head and its heart were free from burden, or so it told itself. It had no wounds, no regrets, no loss. It was whole. It was a curious thought, though.

And what they said next made it even more curious. “In a bad way? How do you mean?”

—

There was something very new about having someone so much older be so inquisitive and open to their opinion. Leviathan was a true elder — it had seen the start of humanity, and yet it asked that question and expected an honest answer. Such moments had existed before, but there was still a newness to it. Wynne had learned to like it by now, though. “Some things are …” They shrugged. “Sometimes I suppose it might be easier to be ignorant. Not better, per se, but learning certain things is just sad or tiring or hard, you know? Sometimes it shocks me, sometimes it’s almost impossible to believe. I guess it’s good to learn, and I don’t want to not be curious … but sometimes it’s hard.” 

—

Leviathan gave a slow, considerate nod before returning to the food that Wynne had brought for it, emptying the bowl before speaking again. One of those many arms reached across the space between them to place a large, clawed hand gently on their shoulder. “I understand. This world is a complex one, with so many free thinkers with the means to achieve their goals, regardless of the motives of the masses.” It paused, tilting its head. “Or perhaps because of those motives. As you said, it is hard. Humans can be very cruel, but they are also some of the kindest souls that I know.” It bared its teeth in a grin and patted Wynne’s shoulder. “Like you, child. Kind to your core. Hang on to that, and do not let this world ever rip it away from you. Take it from a demon… you will be better off for it.” It glanced down at the bowl, then back at Wynne. “... I don’t suppose you’ve got any more squeaky cheese salad I could have?”

[faustianbroker]

Well, that seems about as intuitive as a water-cooled computer, if I'm honest. But I'm not really a tech guy, so...

Weird customers, though, for sure. I mean, when you own a shop dedicated to selling cursed items, you're going to encounter some strange strangers.

Does anyone else just have the weirdest customer interactions sometimes? I spent two hours on the phone with this guy today, because every few minutes he'd ask me to wait while he talked to someone in the same room as him. When I eventually drove out to figure out what was wrong, his computer was just full of apples. Not Apple technology, just apples.

So I guess this is also a PSA. Please don't put apples in your computers! I know it's so confusing that there's a major computer company called Apple, but that is a brand, not technical advice!

[faustianbroker]

[pm] Just the age-old wisdom of never letting a stranger lead you to a second location. And keep close eyes on your friends. If they start behaving oddly, keep your distance. Could be that they got replaced. Best not to risk it.

[pm] No worries. If you change your mind, let me know... Anything in particular that distinguishes the people looking ones to being of the 'maybe wants me dead' variety?

[faustianbroker]

[pm] The intention was never to have the town destroyed. As I understood it, the demon just wanted out of its cage, which I could understand. I was instructed to help it achieve this, or risk taking its place.

Now I understand that I was always meant to take its place. I should have seen it, really. The mass ritual being performed is going to end with me getting stuck under this town instead, so... we need to kill it. Stop the ritual before it can finish. I don't know what that will mean for me as far as breaking the deal is concerned, but I'll take whatever that fate is over being trapped underground for thousands of years.

[pm] This is bullshit dad and you fucking know it. There's gotta be something you can do, some loophole or something. What's even gonna be left after all this shit goes down? Huh? People are going missing every other hour, there's fissures and fucked up little guys running around terrorizing everyone. I can't [........] Dad I can't just sit here and wait for the first place I've ever liked to get totally destroyed.

Teach me the specific wards. Two heads are better than one. Please.

[faustianbroker]

[pm] Any time.

Ah, well... yes, I suppose so. Do you know someone who's been replaced?

[pm] There is undeniable truth in what you say. Thank you.

You put brujería on our home for protection but I have more information about how to maybe stop what is happening. Do you have ability for exorcism?

[faustianbroker]

[pm] Yeah, they'll be doing that. Ah, that's kind of you, but I've got us covered. Definitely give 'em out to other folks, though, can't hurt. Just be careful, not all the lesser demons running around broadcast their inhumanity so obviously.

[pm] Those guys... I've unfortunately noticed them popping up... more. I guess. [user is typing for what seems like eight million years various starts of second sentences and decides not to lead a new friendship with 'hey so I did some murder to fix something those lesser demons did, isn't that so fun?'] Thank you, you're a literal life saver. Going to have to give one of these to J They won't be as effective as something specific, and I'm not exactly the queen of protection magic, but if you need some generic warding and protection for you and yours, I'm running a friends and family 'free fifty' discount sale right now on smaller items. Bracelets necklaces and whatnot (I'm already doing them for me, I don't mind making extra). [User realizes she's rambling and stops typing]

[faustianbroker]

@necrosemancy replied to your post “[pm] so since you’re the only one I know with...”:

[pm] sir, yes sir. And in the case destroying it winds me with a very cranky entity tracking me down what’s the procedure? Salt? Banging pots and pans and scream “get the fuck away from me” as a form of sound cleansing (don’t laugh I’m at least 90% certain that got rid of a ghost once)

​[pm] The only thing coming after you would be lesser demons, like that bird thing I... punched. Or they might look like people. Either way, they can be killed like normal humans. Here. [ user sends a photo of a very different looking sigil ] Put this on your door frames, and maybe etch it into something you can carry on your person at all times. It should force them to keep their distance.

[faustianbroker]

[pm] so since you’re the only one I know with knowledge on this subject, in your professional opinion, am I meant to be doing anything to these sigils, or am I better off noping the fuck away from them? Inquiring minds need to know if they should make sure their passports are up to date (it’s me I’m inquiring minds)

[pm] Destroy them, if you can.

[faustianbroker]

If you use it pls like/reblog and use the credits. 🙏🥰

Can Yaman - icons

[faustianbroker]

TIMING: Current LOCATION: Mephisto's Repository SUMMARY: Leviathan learns the truth.

—

It was a tricky thing, trying to balance what you wanted to do with what you needed to do. Not that Leviathan wanted to spare everyone in this town — for the most part, it didn’t care about them. The only person it really cared about saving was Teddy, but it knew that if everyone Teddy had come to love were taken from them, that saving Teddy would be worse than a death sentence.

So it had taken to some covert operations, marking specific homes with protective sigils that would keep the lesser demons at bay until the demon beneath the town was able to rise. Then life could go back to normal. Or… something like normal. Sure, there would be a massive greater demon sitting in the ocean, but there were worse things. The greater demons that had put Leviathan up to this task had insisted that this demon only wanted to be released from its underground prison, which Leviathan could understand. If it was destined to be the source of power for this supernatural hub (which it was not), it wouldn’t want to have to do the whole thing while trapped in the earth, either. So they would raise this greater demon, then go back to their lives. Sure, the humans would have to come to terms with their new reality — the overwhelming majority of them that lived in this place and still somehow did not believe in the strange goings-on would either have to grapple with the fact that they’d been wrong, or invent some new, insane excuse for the feathered demon that would watching them day in and day out. Leviathan didn’t really care, as long as it still had Teddy, and Teddy was still content to call it father. 

But as it went about these secret tasks, both protecting certain people from harm and taking others from their homes to throw them into the waiting void with all the other sacrifices, it noticed that the three lesser demons that were bound to its service had started acting… differently. It was just Orville, at first, but within two days, Henrietta and Ichabod were also speaking to Leviathan in a way they never had before. Instead of the usual obedience, they were refusing to do things asked of them. They were talking back to it like petulant children, and Leviathan’s patience quickly ran thin. There had to be a reason for the sudden paradigm shift, and the demon was going to find it out one way or another. Beating it out of them was always an option, but really a last resort. First it would try something a bit more discreet, and wouldn’t you know it? It paid off. That said, the prize awarded for such patience was an enormous slap in the face.

“How much longer, Icky? I’m fuckin’ sick of runnin’ errands for this bastard. Ain’t we damn near done yet?”

“Yes, Orville. And don’t call me Icky, it’s demeaning.”

“Aw shucks, Icky, I thought you liked it.” Ichabod heaved a sigh. 

“Whatever. The ritual is nearly ready, they’ve got just about the right number of sacrifices. Soon, we’ll be rid of Leviathan. Can you just be patient for a few more weeks?”

“A few weeks? It’s been years of this shit, man. No, I can’t wait a few more wee—” Their sentence was cut short as Leviathan pushed open the door to the back of the shop, staring the two lesser demons down with a look of fury they’d rightly never seen before. Orville’s mouth snapped shut, and Ichabod yelped in surprise, moving behind them. 

“What do you mean, you’ll be rid of me?” it asked, drawing in a slow breath as its gaze jumped between the two, eventually settling on Ichabod, who seemed to know the most. The demon trembled, stammering out something nonsensical before letting loose a shriek of fear as Leviathan descended upon him, shoving Orville roughly aside and pinning Ichabod to the wall behind him by the throat. “Speak!” it bellowed, squeezing the lesser demon’s throat before relaxing its grip to allow him to follow orders. 

“I-I… we… we heard that when the one underground gets out, it’s leaving!” Leviathan’s eyes narrowed into slits, jaw clenching. 

“And? So what? What does that mean?”

“Um… they’re… the… the ritual is going to s-seal you underground. Sir. I’m sorry, we can’t—there’s nothing we could do to stop it—!” Leviathan snarled furiously. It squeezed the hand around Ichabod’s neck with all the strength it possessed and felt the spine crunch beneath its palm. The demon went limp in its grasp, eyes glazing over. Leviathan dropped him to the floor, hissing something about going back to the pit he’d crawled out of before turning to Orville, who was trying to sneak away. Leviathan snatched them up instead, eyes burning with bright aquamarine energy as it fought to retain this form, to stop itself from shifting and ripping this whole damn building apart in the process. 

“Who told you this?”

“Some of the others, the ones puttin’ the seals all over the town. Said they were told by… by, uh…” 

“Spit it out, you miserable cretin, or I’ll rip you in half!”

“By greater demons! By the ones that — the ones you made a deal with! Said this hub needs a motor and it’s gonna be you! Please, boss, just—we didn’t mean nothin’ by it, honest. We’re just—” Leviathan shouted in wordless rage, slamming Orville into the wall again and again until they dripped down the wooden slats into a puddle on the floor. 

Its heart was beating wildly in its chest, that deeply troubling and inescapable sense of dread and fear drawing it closer and closer to a complete meltdown. 

No. Get a hold of yourself. This isn’t inevitable. It will not be your fate. Leviathan held a bloody hand to its face, loathing the way it shuddered in the face of such damnation. 

I’ll stop the ritual. I’ll kill it. But that would be going against the deal. Those consequences were unknown to the demon, but the consequences of going along with this were enough to stop it from caring. It would not be put in a cage. Not ever. It would raze this whole fucking place to the ground before it would let anyone else put it in chains. 

We’ll kill it. Perhaps there was room for circumvention of the deal if it was largely the doing of the townspeople. Perhaps, but regardless, the risk was worth it. Leviathan would find a way. 

It always did. 

[faustianbroker]

[pm] Ah. That's a shame.

Oh sure, makes sense to me. I'm sure no matter the day you choose or have chosen already, it does more than enough to spite them. Celebrating your life, you know? That's the important part. The day doesn't matter.

[pm] I quit art. There is no more passion for it.

Maybe you are right. Have always just wanted to celebrate the day my parents hate so much. Want to spite them somehow. If this has sense.

[faustianbroker]

[pm] Before what?

For what it's worth, you seem to have come out alright, even with bad parents. [...] Ah, well, take it from me, not having a real birthday isn't that bad. Being able to pick the day, maybe a day that means something important to you, is a privilege most folks don't get.

Agreed. [ user really wishes it was in more control of its life at present! lol! ]

[pm] If you need lessons maybe I can help. I am was an artist before. Have taught a few people.

It is okay. I did not making existing easy ckr them. Sometimes I wonder what good parents would have made me. New family treats me better yes. But I still wonder. They did not [...] even tell me my birthday. I do not deserve it but I will like to celebrate with them. They seem to be happy that I was born.

It is not bad to be different. And it is not bad to find meaning as well. It is your meaning and that is what is important because it is your life. Not theirs.