#faustianbroker

[eldritchaccident]

Timing: In the early hours of the morning Location: The Jones household basement Feat: @faustianbroker & @eldritchaccident Warnings: None on the list, but a large beast does get stapled back together Summary: What happens when a phone call becomes a visit

The downfall of having a physical form was, of course, the risk of damage.

It was a risk Leviathan had happily taken in stride for centuries, and it had never really bitten the demon in the ass too badly until now. The monstrous, semi-aquatic creature was tucked away in the dark recesses of a damp cave that sat along the coast of another dimension, its sides rising and falling with fluttering irregularity. Every once in a while the silence would be broken by the sound of scales dragging across stone as it repositioned itself, battered body aching and bleeding blue onto the cavern floor. It didn’t have much time to make good on the deal it had been forced into accepting, it knew. It had to move soon, but it was in too much pain to even try. They had cornered it here, a half dozen of them, bearing down upon it with ferocity that it knew came from fear. But they wouldn’t kill it, they wouldn’t stoop to that level. No, they had other ideas. They would still make use of Leviathan yet. There was little sense in wasting the talents of one of their own kind, after all, like Leviathan had wasted Wyvss’Kgorr’s. So, with teeth cutting into its neck and its spine threatening to shatter under the pressure, it had accepted the deal. The other demons left it then, satisfied with the results of this single-use league, and went back to their respective dimensions, likely to never coordinate with one another in such a way again. 

Leviathan would be proud of causing such a reaction once it felt less like it was on the brink of death.

There wasn’t a way to tell how much time had passed here, cut off from the starlight as it was, but every moment that passed stacked an additional brick of unease on the wall that the demon was trying to build around itself. All of this had happened because it cared too much, because it was too curious for its own good. It wouldn’t let such things get in the way again, it told itself, even if it did have to return to Wicked’s Rest. It wouldn’t (it probably would). Laying there in the pitch darkness, Leviathan was acutely aware of a sudden tug in its chest. It lifted that massive head, many eyes blinking out of sync as it focused on nothing but dark. A low growl started in its throat and it shifted lazily before wincing in surprise as a sudden light filled the cavern. It was only a pinprick at first, but it blinded the beast into submission, eyes squeezing shut and head rearing back, away from the offensive glare.

Those eyes remained shut, until it heard a sound. It wasn’t sure what the sound was, but it knew it had not come from itself. Blinking them open again, squinting against the light, Leviathan peered into the space in front of it while its eyes adjusted. That tug in its chest grew stronger, heart hammering against prehistoric ribs. The light was a ring in the air, and in the center of it, a dimmer source of illumination, and… a figure. A person. 

���... Teddy?”

—

Days of non-stop work, weeks of planning, months of research. All boiled down to a pin prick point of focus. Determination. Hope. Teddy’s blood, sweat, and tears ran rivers. But the ritual was working. Energy effused through every vein, every pore. Alight inside, illuminating their skin and the dim basement around them with an eerie blue glow. 

Teddy's breath felt like fire, each labored movement came at cost. This wasn't the kind of magic that naturally flowed through them. Summoning was much more Van’s thing than Teddy's. But there was no way they were going to risk hurting her, or even the possibility of bringing her near something so dangerous. 

Hell, Emilio was supposed to be next to them too, but Teddy wouldn't let that happen. Was supposed to be by their side in case shit went sideways, or they somehow dialed the wrong demon number. But he'd been through too much with Basil or whatever the fuck that demon was called. Still on bedrest. His favorite thing. So no. Teddy had to do this alone. Had to make contact. Had to hear from their father. 

And it was working. 

A hole ripped through the fabric of the universe, tore a portal through to another dimension. The brusk smell of the endless ocean burst through first. Unmistakable and nostalgic. Enough to know Teddy was doing something right. A hazy picture began to form next. A room too dark to see, something that Teddy couldn't allow their heart to race at. At that moment, it was like they were a twelve volt battery channeling a whole power plant through its cells. All while trying to recite the dictionary backwards from memory. 

And then its voice rang through. Rough, rich, and rumbling deep into Teddy's bones. 

“D-dad!” Ted called out, the portal shrank slightly as their focus faulted, their breath hitched until they could catch themself and steady it once more. A sizzle at their fingertips reminded them how little room for error there was, and how dumb of an idea it was to do this alone. 

— 

All those ideals of closing itself off from others crumbled in the hopeful and frightened face of Theodore Jones, who called out to it with a term of familiarity that it hadn’t heard in so long… It groaned, picking itself up off the floor of the cave and dragging that enormous body closer to the portal. Without any care for what might happen if its child lost focus and the portal closed on it, Leviathan stuck one bestial, webbed hand through the opening, gripping the edge of the luminous tear in reality as if it were merely a rung on a ladder. “Teddy,” it repeated slowly, eyes closing again as it hauled itself closer. It wasn’t sure which would be easier—helping Teddy make the portal stronger and larger, or shifting into something smaller. The latter would be advantageous to fitting into the basement of their home, which is what the background behind its child appeared to be. But the former wouldn’t be a bad idea either, so Leviathan summoned the last of its strength to do both at the same time. That handful of eyes snapped open again, glowing a bright ethereal blue as it tried to strengthen the connection with its own power, continuing to pull itself through the portal as seafoam bubbled up around it and sloughed off parts of its body. Shedding its previous form didn’t get rid of the wounds, and the pain of ripping them open drew a long, grating cry from its jaws as it slumped to the floor of the basement, thrashing its body farther into the room and curling its tail around itself. 

The spiny, webbed dorsal fin flattened as the creature let out a long, exhausted sigh. Gills flapped uselessly, but the lungs in its anatomy kept it from being in any immediate peril. Drying out would be unpleasant, but that was a concern for later. Leviathan was still slicked with blue blood, long head swinging around to face Teddy. Even among the perplexing layout of the demon’s features, pride could be seen. “Just… the person I wanted to see,” it rattled.

—

The portal wasn’t necessarily supposed to work like that. Was built to be more of a phone call than a bridge, but— Ahh. Leviathan’s energies pooled into the ritual, like the sea meeting a freshwater spring. A brackish backlash that somehow both soothed and burned with a familiarity that only stood to bolster Teddy’s resolve. It wasn’t expected, but they couldn’t help the elation, that quickly melted away into horror as they realized exactly what shape the beast was in. 

Leviathan slithered through and the gateway snapped shut. A sickening pop and rush of air and energy propelled Teddy backwards, falling into the great creature’s side with a soft thud. A moment of shock left the caster breathless, whirling around to take stock of what just happened. Long distance facetime connections don’t usually end with an instantaneous house call. 

A horrible part of Teddy’s imagination briefly wondered whether it was an improperly done ritual that had marred the Leviathan’s hide in such a vicious manner, that somehow this blood was their fault but the bite marks and claw wounds were more than enough evidence that something else was at play. 

“W-what happened— Dad are you okay??” Teddy’s voice croaked, their hands found its face, or at least what they could hold from such a small state beside it. “What can I do to help?” They were tired, spent from the spell, from the variant magic running through their veins, from the weeks of exhausting research and need to get it just right. But goddamn there wasn’t a fucking thing they wouldn’t jump up and do for Leviathan right then. 

Their dad was home, really properly there, not just on the other end of a half-thought dream. It looked at them with pride and Teddy’s heart soared with all the ache they’d carried these months without their father. Thinking they’d never get to see it again at all. Hell, if Levi wanted a few human sacrifices Teds could think of a few less than pleasant neighbors who hadn’t been so kind during Pride month. “What do you need?” 

—

The demon groaned and shifted its body weight again, but held its head still in the caster’s hands. “Fine, I’m fine,” it breathed, not wanting to worry Teddy more than it inevitably would. “They ah… well. It was as I feared.” The greater demons had taken issue, and had pursued it. “I was found.” It sucked in another long breath, closing its eyes again and just enjoying the feeling of being embraced. “It’s okay. I needed… to come back here. You… made that much easier,” it admitted, closing its eyes. “As for what I need… time. Just time.” It let out one last ragged sigh before blinking and swiveling its gaze to meet Teddy’s. 

The human emotions that had plagued it while it remained tethered to its ward had never fully left. Or rather, they lingered in spite of the involuntary compulsion to experience them having been removed, and now they only existed in the Leviathan’s breast because it wished it so. Hours ago, it had wanted to feel nothing, to return to numbness, but how could it still want that when Teddy was here in front of it, pressing their hands to its scales and asking how they could help? Void above, they’d never wanted anything but to help their father and make it proud of them, and Leviathan could have done much better in showing them just how proud it was. In the end, it had become cold. It told itself this was to spare them both a more painful goodbye, and while that might have been true, it was not the whole truth.

“I am sorry,” came the creature’s low, rumbling apology. “For everything. Please, tell me… how have you been? What’s happened since I had to leave?”

—

Fine wasn’t a word they’d use to describe the gouged flesh and torn hide, but Teddy also knew the beast well enough that it would deny any fussing and worrying unless given forcefully. Years ago, a young Theodore had tried to salve the demon’s wounds with stolen Hello Kitty bandaids, glittery stickers, and ‘healing’ pancakes with extra shrimp. But the Jones house never lacked for those dumb enough to pick a bone with them. So Teds got a lot of practice in. Even shapeshifting demons from before the dawn of time needed a little TLC after a rampage or two. 

This seemed worse, somehow. In a way that Teddy couldn’t put into words but felt deep in their gut. They didn’t want to leave its side, but some of the weeping wounds needed a little more than just time. “Too many— even for you to fight?” They guessed tentatively. A spark of undeniable skepticism lacing their sentence, as if anything in the great vastness of the void above and below could ever come close to the might their father commanded. The question was a good enough segue to step aside for a moment. Grab some tools and tenderly start to work. A needle and thread would do about as well as a kayak in a hurricane, so the next best thing would be a staple gun and duct tape. Emilio would be proud. 

“Made easi— I helped you? Dad I just— It wasn’t supposed to be a physical tear— that was all you.” Mend the big gaps, ignore the sounds of pain, wipe off anything too mucky, sanitize with vodka. Teddy’s brain went all methodical in times like this. An engine built to bring things back to calm, to safety. Even so, the talking was nice. Hearing his voice made them feel a little less alone in the world. Sure, Teddy had a pretty tight family they’d forged for themself here, but Levi was their dad. And that was— a bit of a sore subject. 

“Lots.” They admitted. Their mind flashed back to Canada. To the worst parts first. How many times they’d be injured, only to be saved by Leviathan’s blessing. How many times they nearly died. But it wasn’t all bad. “I uh— I think I’m gonna marry Emilio. That’s a big one. Didn’t really see that coming.” 

—

There was a long pause before Leviathan answered the first question, for the demon disliked the answer. “Yes. Even for me.” They had no natural predators but themselves, and while Leviathan had spent centuries battling ferocious creatures and armies of men, it still could not stand up to the might of six others at once. “But I am alive, so who really won?” it added with a grating sound that was maybe supposed to be a laugh. 

Dying, of course, had never been the true peril of being caught. Leviathan had wondered for a time if they would merely seek revenge, but knowing what it would do if faced with such a crisis of personal security and safety, it knew that it would have used that leverage for more than just death. The scenario with Wynne’s demon had been different—more had been at stake. Or, well, things outside of itself had been at stake. There had been no room for loopholes. But of course, it could not tell Teddy any of this.

The demon hissed softly in response to the staple gun, flinching away from it without wanting to, eyes tightly shut. “Maybe not,” it ground out, “but I didn’t have the strength to even contact you, much less… create a portal from the ground up. So yes. You gave me an anchor. You helped.” 

Lots. That was nondescript. But they’d have plenty of time for talking, it knew, so it didn’t worry too much that the full truth was being withheld for now. It had its own secrets, after all. “Marry?” it piped up, looking up at Teddy again. Humans were really pretty crazy about that kind of thing, weren’t they? It stood to reason that Teddy would be just as susceptible to romanticism. Hm. I suppose my faith in the slayer to look after you was well placed. It would have to thank him later. “That is very good news,” the demon purred, carefully lifting a front leg and brushing the back of a clawed, webbed toe against Teddy’s side. Its teeth were bared in something that was probably supposed to be a smile, though given the beastly form it had taken, it looked more like a grimace. Ah well. “I am… here for you. I’m not leaving again, Teddy.” There was a beat of powerful silence. “I promise.”

—

“Naaaah, I bet you had them all scared. Just a flinch and they’d be quaking in their eldritch boots.” A childish lie, hoping to be true. Teddy nuzzled in closer to the hardened scales and expanse of rough flesh. Worming their way between the folds of its arm into a crook that snugly held the all too human Jones. A body never meant for comfort or its ilk, but to the Leviathan’s ward? It was home. Teddy was home after far too long, even if it wasn’t exactly the same, even if it never would be again. They had their dad and everything seemed just a little more okay. 

From their squished up position, using the big amphibious lizard-thing as both blanket and mattress, Teddy surged with a pride vibrant enough to spur what dregs of energy was left in their system to spark outwards and shatter the one lightbulb in the basement. Leaving just the candles and one very persistent glow-stick from a parade in June to keep the space from total darkness. Thankfully. Teds didn’t exactly want to explain that one just yet, and the Leviathan probably needed some quiet and peace to rest. 

“Better that you’ll be here for it. Who else is gonna give away the blushing bride?” To be fair, most of Teddy’s ideas of what marriage was came from old movies and pop culture. Growing up, Levi had never been shy about multiple partners and enjoying itself whenever the whims arose. The desire to tie their life to Emilio came from somewhere else entirely. All wrapped up in the ways the hunter made them feel so secure and safe, in the respect and admiration they had for him. In the love for his personality and how perfectly it complimented their own. Love in a completely new form, as steady as a stone. 

The wriggling human stilled after the Leviathan’s next statement. Its promise. Teddy’s breath stopped short, they let the weight of what it said sink in, even if they couldn’t fully process immediately what it would mean, the elation and joy sparked up right away. Like a giddy toddler, they pressed themself further into the beast’s side. “Thank you, dad I— I needed you. I think I always will. I love you.” 

—

Teddy was wrong, but Leviathan would let them believe what they liked. It didn’t matter, anyway. What had truly transpired was something the demon would not—and could not—speak of. Eyes flicked up toward the shattered bulb—the beast wanted to ask, it wanted to know what had become of Teddy since it had fled this plane, how the child’s power had truly manifested itself without the demonic runes on their bones overpowering whatever had been dormant all these years… but they would have time. They would have all the time that they needed, and Leviathan would ask every question that rolled across its mind like a cavalry of tumbleweeds across the desert. 

“I am going to make sure I write…” It paused to suck in a tired breath, “a very long and embarrassing toast.” There was another rumble of amusement in its throat as it thought about that day, whenever it came about, and it felt itself warm from the inside out. To see Teddy happy was all it needed, whatever form that came in. 

“I am sorry it was for so long. But I think it was the correct choice.” Leviathan shuddered to think what might have happened to Teddy if the other demons had sensed the bridge between them, had sniffed out their familial bond and chosen to use that against it. “Even so…” A second apology hung silent in the air, felt rather than heard as the demon pulled Teddy closer to itself, if that were possible. “I love you too.” Another short, pained sigh slipped free from its maw. “I think… I need to take a very long nap. Much healing to be done.” It shifted its massive head. “You do not need to stay. I will remain here until I feel I can safely return to my disguised form.” If Teddy was so certain they’d be marrying Emilio, then the return of their father was probably a bit of news worth sharing with him. “When you’re ready, go speak with Emilio. I do not know if he is still as angry with me as he was when I left, but… you’ve always been great at diplomacy.”

[mortemoppetere]

@faustianbroker from here:

[pm] .. right. Well, you have, actually. He's not as young as you think. [...] Or I guess I'm older than you think. [...] Anyway, that doesn't matter, but I'd appreciate it if you didn't drop him off any more rooftops.

[pm] What? I figured you were older, but- Why did you unleash that onto the world?

Okay, first of all, I didn't drop them off any rooftops. They fell. I tried to catch them, actually, but they don't tell people that part. Because they're an asshole.

[deathsplaything]

@faustianbroker replied to your post “[pm] Clock's ticking, Renaldo. You agreed to five...”:

[pm] Huh. That's weird. This contact is saved under his name. You know, this is why I miss the days of carrier pigeons. Well, time to threaten him in person, I suppose. Pardon the inconvenience, Alistair.

​[pm] Definitely gave you the wrong number to throw you off their scent. Carrier pigeons? What year were you born, exactly? [...] Please, by all means, go threaten the man. Have fun I guess.

[canis-or-cannotis-lycaon]

@faustianbroker replied to your post “Are you potato-like or tomato-like?”:

Are you /sure/ it isn't an endorsement to eat you? Because I sure could.

​Whoa there, champ. At least take me to dinner first. But for real though, humans don't really contain a lot of nutritional value to other humans. Something something enzymes or whatever. I think.

[nonamefornow23]

@faustianbroker

My man. First sane person I've spoken to today.

Do you by any chance work at the mental hospital?

[mortemoppetere]

[pm] Great. You can buy me a fucking drink after, then, you useless sack of shit.

[pm] Oh, don't worry. It won't fuck anything up for me.

[muertarte]

TIMING: Current

PARTIES: @faustianbroker @muertarte

SUMMARY: Drinking their sorrows away, Metzli is walking along the shore and has trouble processing their grief. Levi finds them and offers an ear. The two find a connection and leave a little more hopeful and calm.

WARNINGS: Child Death (mentions), Alcoholism

The coarse texture of sand made Metzli grumble as they wandered around the beach. Normally, they wouldn't have stepped foot on such a grotesque surface, but there wasn't much discomfort thanks to the bottle in their hand. Metzli took another chug and continued to walk toward nothing, quickly tripping and unceremoniously falling to the ground with a dull thud. 

For a while, all they did was lay there, watching the world spin in a hazy blur. The motion was sickening, but Metzli steeled themself and waited for the dizziness to subside. When it did, they sat up quickly and went for another drink, only to find that the bottle was missing. “Huh?” Metzli grumbled and sighed, which tumbled into a full out sob. Of course they lost the bottle. That's all they were good at. Losing things. 

The healing process had been a slow, arduous one, which was especially annoying for a creature that had always been able to instantly mend its own wounds. But spending time in the ocean helped, if only as a placebo, and always put the Leviathan in better spirits. 

It was just returning from a swim when it noticed someone else was on the otherwise deserted beach. Curious, the demon shifted back into a more socially acceptable form, emerging from the water and retrieving the clothes it had left in a bag on the sand while it watched the person stumble and just lay there. Huh.

Dressed, Levi approached the poor thing silently, stepping barefoot through the sand without a sound. As it drew near, it noticed the bottle. Ah. Of course. Plucking the alcohol out of the sand, Levi gave it a whiff. The person still hadn't noticed its presence, so it just stood there a minute, wondering what would happen next. Then, suddenly, they sat up. They reached for the bottle only to find it missing, and… sobbed. Ah. This one was afflicted with those pesky emotions. The big ones, it seemed like. 

“Are you all right?” it asked in a tone that it hoped wouldn’t be alarming, moving from where it stood behind them to instead be by their side. It held the bottle out. “You dropped this.”

One of the downsides of being undead was that it took a lot more of anything to really have an effect, but that also meant effects didn't last as long. Metzli's face contorted with disgust and discomfort as the sensation of sand caught up to them. Fortunately, their other senses activated as well, and Metzli was able to react to a stranger that seemed to come out of nowhere. 

Hackles raised, the vampire whipped their legs around and collided them against the person's ankles. They took the opportunity to pounce as they retrieved their knife, promptly straddling the stranger's torso, knife at their throat. “Who are you?” Metzli blinked, just then registering what had been said before. 

Their eyes flickered to the bottle and then to the person's face. “Shit. Shit. You were–I…” Metzli scrambled off the stranger and crawled backwards from them, readying themself for whatever berating may come. 

Well, that was both expected and not. Levi had anticipated a large, loud reaction, but getting knocked to the sand so swiftly and climbed on top of hadn’t been first on the list. Usually there was more ceremony surrounding occasions where it ended up with a knife to its throat. The absurdity of it brought a smile to the demon’s face, and it laughed as the stranger seemed to realize themself, backing off and looking worried. “Ah, no harm done,” it assured them, sitting up again and looking at the bottle it still clutched. Some of the booze had spilled, but there was a decent amount remaining. It held the bottle out to them a second time, offering a small shrug. “This is yours, right? Just thought you might want it back.” It gave them a once over, brows raised. “Seems like you’re kind of… going through it. I’ll ask again — you all right?” It wasn’t sure how much it cared, but it was of course always curious to know what would bring a person to a state such as this. Even if it never ended up using that information, it was good to have. All information was useful in its way. 

Huh. The laughter filling the space was a surprise, causing the vampire to tug at their hair until their nerves settled from their guilt. At least the stranger found it humorous to almost get their throat sliced. That was as lucky as someone could get in that town. 

“Yes, it is mine.” Metzli replied, taking the bottle and immediately wiping the opening. Sand had surely gotten inside of it. They groaned, taking a drink anyway. The sediment inside was hardly noticeable, thankfully. Most of it had settled to the bottom, so Metzli continued to consume, putting off answering the question as long as possible. Eventually though, there was nothing left, and Metzli felt inebriated enough for the moment to cough up a trembly reply. 

“Lost someth–someone.” They sniffled, hugging the bottle. “Do…do you have a child?”

Leviathan was nothing if not patient, so it had no problem with leaning back on its hands and watching the person kill the rest of the bottle, a lightly amused smile resting on its face. When they spoke again, it nodded in understanding. 

“I do," it answered honestly, leaning forward again, arms resting on its knees. “One I couldn't imagine losing.” It had never intended for its solo expedition to be permanent, so leaving Teddy behind on that day had been different. But to lose them entirely? The demon wouldn't allow it, of course. But it tried to imagine how it would feel to lose them and be unable to bring them back. 

The feeling was hollow. Lonely. Levi did not like it.

“You have my condolences. This world is unkind to those who let themselves love, isn't it?”

Tightly shutting their eyes in hopes of holding their tears back, Metzli stifled a sob and gripped the bottle tightly. The pressure applied complimented the powerful embrace grief had seized in their chest. It was unyielding and rigid, straining until the stress could not be endured. Metzli felt glass trickle from their hand and to their lap, a gasp escaping them as they nodded to the person’s sentiment.

Now that they had loved and lost, they knew exactly what grief was. What it meant to love. As much as Metzli wanted to run from the pain, they had accepted that exchange. Because truly loving another meant accepting the work it took to do it, and deciding the pain of losing them was worth it. Maybe their love had nowhere to go, and there was a void left in Cass’s wake, but Metzli found solace in what remained of her embers. They had hope that they would spark into a blazing fire so that they would supply the kindling. Perhaps, they thought, fire wasn’t nearly as tragic as most people thought. After all, didn’t everyone look for a spark? For a beacon of warmth to keep the cold touch of death from tickling their flesh?

“I wish I can bring her back. Or trade. I have…I have lived long enough.” The vampire sighed, brushing away the glass on their lap. “Parents should not live longer. Where does all this love go? Where do I put it?”

The distraught creature spoke of trade, and Leviathan’s interest was piqued. But that was an awful lot of work for someone it did not know. And besides that, it didn’t want to invite whatever anger would come from such an exchange, either from the risen child or anyone else involved in this tragic affair. 

“There are ways,” it spoke slowly, “but don’t you think giving yourself away in exchange for this lost child, whom I presume has already been grieved and put to rest, would do more harm than good? The child might resent your absence. The other people you love—because I have to assume you have others—might resent the child’s return in exchange for your own life. There is no perfect way around it.” Unless you were a greater demon and the loss was your own, but this conversation wasn’t about what Leviathan would do in such a situation. “It’s better to let nature take the course that it will, and just learn to heal. Trying to change things often leads only to worse outcomes.” It frowned, watching them for a moment in quiet contemplation. 

“You find new people to love,” it then answered simply. “You love those who are still around you even harder than before. You appreciate the things that you still have.”

“I know there are ways.” Metzli hissed with a tinge of longing dripping from their voice. In their world, they heard whispers of what dark magic could do. Brujería of sorts that they knew about even as a human. 

Mexico was filled with superstitions, and it wasn't until they had become a vampire that Metzli believed in any of it. But they knew better, and given how the stranger spoke, they figured that they knew it too. How intimately, Metzli wasn't sure, and they didn't really want to find out. Because they were right. Exchanging their life for Cass's would do more harm than good, and that wasn't even taking their undead nature into account. 

Metzli nodded, finally branching away from their thoughts long enough to listen further. With the alcohol mostly out of their system, they were able to appreciate the words more, no longer allowing inebriated sorrow to overwhelm them. “I know you are right.” They swallowed, tensing their hand through their hair. “It just…it feels like this love that is…stuck?” Their brows sewed together while they tried to make sense of what they felt. “It feels like it will be there forever. Like it was only for her. She is missing and I cannot give it to her even though I can feel her there. Like…like miembro fantasma.” Metzli grazed their half limb, sucking in a breath. “How old is your child? What is their name?”

Leviathan hummed, glancing up at the dark sky. This person spoke of love being stuck, unable to be shared or dispersed elsewhere, and it wondered what that might feel like. It thought, only for a moment, about how it would feel if Teddy were to die. If, for some reason, they were unable to be resurrected. If by some tragic happenstance, Leviathan was unable to bring them back. Would its love feel stuck? 

It pondered this and thought that maybe yes, maybe it would feel stuck. Who else had Leviathan ever loved like it loved Teddy? Who else could it love, in that way? Even with infinity stretching out in front of it, it wasn’t sure anything would ever compare. 

But this person, whoever and whatever they were, was not a greater demon. And so they must have others, they must have comparable love in other places, so… “I don’t think it will feel stuck forever,” it offered, lowering its chin to meet their gaze again. “I think time will… make it easier to open up that part of yourself again.” There was a pause. “My child is named Teddy. They are… thirty four, I think.” It chuckled. “Time is a confusing thing.”

Teddy. And they were thirty-four. Huh. A tiny smile crept up to Metzli’s lips and they wondered silently if this father had raised the very strange person Leila had grown to adore. The two segments of information didn't offer much, but Metzli didn't think it would hurt to ask for confirmation. 

They liked Teddy. Mostly. They were a little more excitable than the vampire was used to, but maybe that was because their father gave them the room to understand how to express themself. And that could never be a bad thing. Cass was so used to diluting herself, making herself digestible for others in hopes of being easily consumed. In the end, that was her doom, and Metzli found themself a bit more appreciative about those who were louder and brighter than most. It meant they got the love they deserved. They were treated as a person. 

“Hmph…” Metzli huffed a chuckle and nodded, “Time is confusing, yes.” They took a breath, looking at the stranger with a curious tilt to their head. “Are they Teddy Jones? Very…loud? Think maybe I know them already.”

The smile on Leviathan’s face only broadened as the stranger accurately described Teddy, warming from sympathy to actual joy. That was often its expression when it thought of its child, for better or worse. If someone really wanted to find a way to bend the demon to their will, it didn’t make discovering that weakness very hard. Ah, but what did it have to fear? It was a demon. “Yes, they do like to let people know what’s on their mind,” it chuckled. Well, then. If this person knew Teddy, and seemed to speak of them at least from a place of indifference (versus full on contempt), then they were alright in the demon’s book. Not that their impression thus far had been negative, just complicated. 

It held out a hand to them, offering honesty in a way it usually wouldn’t. “I am Leviathan. What may I call you?”

“They do.” Fond memories of when Leila and Metzli were just friends, unable to speak their truths, fluttered into their mind. Teddy urged the vampire to take the risk, and even with their protests, they never seemed deterred. Like they were in on a secret and were hoping to shift things in motion. They had a good heart, and if a child is a reflection of their upbringing, then Leviathan was most definitely a good father. What was that like, Metzli wondered? They supposed it wasn't for them to know. 

“I am Metzli.” They shook Leviathan’s hand and bowed their head respectfully, offering a small but warm smile. “My Leila really enjoys Teddy. It is hard for me to be around people, but I like them too. Very good heart.” Metzli rolled their shoulders and looked at Leviathan with a somber expression, eyes a literal worn from the tears. “They must learn this from you, I think. You are listening to complete stranger and not being rude.” Metzli took a breath, “I appreciate this. Talking about mija is hard.”

Ah. So the assumption had been correct — an improvement, even. Metzli knew Teddy, and rightfully enjoyed their company. Recognized their good intentions. And, with some amount of surprise coloring the demon’s expression, it realized that that understanding of Teddy’s character was being attributed to Leviathan as well. “Well…” It shrugged and shook its head. “There’s a time and place for being rude. Finding someone crying on the beach isn’t it, I don’t think.” It smiled sadly, nodding at the thanks. “Of course. You’ll get through it, Metzli. Lean on this Leila of yours — they sound important to you. Try to hold those things close and don’t lose sight of what you do still have.” Huffing out a breath, the demon got to its feet and offered to help Metzli up as well. “You should get home to them, the people you have that care about you. Don’t make them worry while you tell your sorrows to the sands. There are better ears waiting for you.”

Leviathan had said something with a little too much fluff for the vampire to understand at first. Because when Metzli looked at the sand, they didn't see any ears there, and they hadn't exactly been speaking to the sand. Although Leviathan was right about one thing. Better ears were waiting for them at home, and so was a shower. Had it not been for the distracting conversation and alcohol, Metzli would have had a small tantrum about the texture of the sand. 

“Okay.” They took Leviathan's hand and stood up, shaking what sand they could offer while taking one last glance at the ground. Still no ears. “I appreciate you, Leviathan.” Metzli took a steadying breath and met the person's gaze with a soft smile before they picked up their empty bottle and turned toward home. As they walked, Metzli called out one last thing, heart bending. “Tell Teddy I say hello and…hug them tight.”

[oliver--fox]

For the Ages-Levi & Oliver

TIMING: Current

LOCATION: Everlasting Garden

PARTIES: @oliver--fox & @faustianbroker

SUMMARY: Oliver and Levi run into each other again after a decade or two of being apart. Small talk and light flirting occur.

CONTENT WARNINGS: None!

As a being that was born at the same moment as the rest of the universe, Leviathan had no shortage of life experience to draw from. It had watched lesser forms of life crawl out of the muck, watched them grow, evolve, and scatter themselves across their designated space rock. It had watched while some petered out and others flourished, following the signs of life so incomprehensibly different from its own, intrigued. It had watched the evolution of humankind like so many others, and had become enamored with them. They came in so many different packages, and alongside them, perhaps where mutations occurred or environmental hazards took hold and put down roots, they became different. Changed forever. As they grew older as a species, the humans began to learn of these others, and they did not care for them. Those that were gifted with control over magic were scorned. Those that were infected or cursed were turned away from human communities, so they made communities of their own.

The ones that it always held in the highest regard were the fae. They were almost like kin, in a way, though many thousands of generations removed. To the point where no more resemblance could be found, other than the binding nature of their magic. Now, it was the fae’s prevalence for trickery and wordplay that discouraged Leviathan from working with them in most contexts, but there was a stark difference between work and play. Playing, of course, was welcome to all. 

As it came to a stop in front of a shop it had never passed by before, eyes drawn to the greenery inside as it wondered if maybe Teddy would like a little venus flytrap, the demon’s neutral expression grew into one of familiarity, and perhaps even a bit of fondness. It pushed open the door, a little bell tinkling somewhere overhead (or had it imagined that?) and strode inside. 

“As I live and breathe,” it said as it approached the man who clearly worked there. “I’d say I’m surprised to see you, but of course it makes sense, doesn’t it? Of all the places, I think this… little town has a leg up on most others.” Most, but not all. “Still going by Oliver?”

—

Oliver tidied up the store as he did a walk-through. He was alone for the morning, with one of his newer employees coming in this afternoon for training. It was somewhat interesting to own a store rather than just be a consumer. He had always been a watcher of the times and how they changed, but this situation felt different than others had. Maybe it wasn’t, and Oliver was just feeling nostalgia towards being back from where he was from. The only thing that mattered was that he was able to bring the joy of plants to those who may never have considered that it was an option, to begin with. 

Wicked’s Rest also allowed Oliver to be in an environment that put him in more situations of running into other supernatural beings. Previously, it was a rarity for his internal fae alert to go off, or for him to run into those who were open about sharing that part of themselves. Here though, he felt as if was running into another Fae every other week, and the rumor mill of other situations was always running. It was almost nice in a sense, to feel like he wasn’t the odd one out here. The fear that he had sometimes felt about being found out was lessened here. It was still present, and he still had escape plans in the back of his mind; ready to be used at a moment's notice if needed. Currently, though, he was happy to stay for as long as he needed to.

At the sound of the bell tinkling, Oliver looked up. “Welcome to-” He cut himself off, eyes widening as he recognized the being in front of him. It had been what, 15 years? “I was wondering when we would run into each other again” Oliver found his words, a soft smile on his lips. “Yes, back to Oliver. Figured it would be weird to come home using something else” He added with a shrug. “How are you, Levi?” They were alone, so Oliver felt safe enough using its name. He had always felt it fit the other more than its assumed name.

—

“We do have a knack for it,” Levi agreed, raising a brow. “Maybe less of a coincidence, this time… you’re half the reason Teddy and I came here.” It wasn’t something Levi had shared with Teddy, since it felt fairly inconsequential — the demon had simply remembered Oliver talking about this east coast town where he’d grown up, and after doing a bit of digging on the subject, it had seemed like a perfect place to settle down. “When I realized this place was… comparatively overflowing with the supernatural, well, I had to stop in.” It glanced back over its shoulder toward the front windows, regarding the town outside fondly. “And wouldn’t you know it, just in time for a good old fashioned demonic take-over.” It huffed out a laugh, obviously referring to the legs and beak that belonged to something that was under the town, as well as the plethora of demonic creatures that’d started making the place home. It was hard to miss, though a lot of people might mistake them for strange looking animals. As for the giant body parts, well… he didn’t know what the humans thought about those, unless they just figured it was some kind of art installation. That was likely, actually. Humans, despite being one of its favorite species, were quite stupid. 

Glancing around the place, Levi had to admit that it was nice. Cozy. “This is yours, then?” If it was, that meant Oliver meant to stay for a while, just as Levi did. Interesting. They’d never occupied the same city for very long, only passing like ships in the night, hailing each other down for a raucous evening of fun, then sailing away on their headings once more as the sun rose.

—

Oliver felt his face heat up when Levi mentioned that he was the reason they had come to Wicked’s Rest. It shouldn't have, but it made him feel warm inside.  It was a reminder that he could leave a lasting impact on someone. “That tracks, it seems like a place you would do well in.” He said, a full smile now taking over his features. “I do gotta say, I don’t think it was quite this saturated with supernaturals back when I was growing up. There was a handful, sure, but nothing like what is now”. It was mildly impressive, and while a study would never actually be able to be run, Oliver would love to see when more beings had started coming through. Had it been in 1921, when Serpents Flat had shown up?  Oliver had been in Tennessee then, and remembered seeing it in the paper. He had been more surprised to see a story from his small town in the paper across the country, but he supposed a weird anomaly was going to draw attention.  Maybe the mass migration of supernatural beings had shown up before that, or maybe they didn’t show up until years later as a moth attracted to light. 

At the mention of the…strange being that had recently come up from the sea, Oliver couldn’t help but sigh. “Speaking of that, any chance you have an idea of what it is? Or, what it’s gonna do?” It was a long shot, but maybe the two of them could have devil conversations. Oliver didn’t love that it was just there and that people were disappearing and strange beings were seen coming out of its mouth, but he was also kinda just hoping that it did whatever it needed to do and then went back underwater. 

Oliver nodded at the other’s question “Yes! I opened it not long after I got here, so it’s been a few years. It’s a nice little place though” He looked around his shop, trying to look at it through the others' eyes. “How are you and Teddy doing by the way? They’d be, hmm, in their 30s now, right?” Older than Oliver looked at this point. He had thought he might have seen a glimpse of Teddy a while ago, but it had been from a distance, and also wasn’t sure and didn’t want to guess wrong. Looked like he might have been right though. Levi hadn’t been with them though, Oliver would have recognized him; he was sure of that. 

—

Levi had an idea of what it was, that was true. And even though it respected Oliver enough to want to tell him, it was promise-bound to deflect. There had been a distinct lack of sincerity in the way it called the thing coming out of the ground demonic — it would neither confirm nor deny these theories, but sarcasm was an easy enough way to get around the rules without breaking them. It was being asked directly now, though, and that would require a little more finesse to answer. “It feels… important,” the demon replied slowly. “Like it is supposed to be here. I can understand how the sudden appearance might be alarming, but I wouldn’t worry about it too much.” That was an easy thing for a greater demon to say, it supposed. Still, though. 

With a satisfied nod, glad that the conversation was turning elsewhere (despite having been the one to bring it up — the Leviathan was a fickle creature), Levi smiled at the mention of Teddy. “Yes, they’re quite the real adult now. It’s… interesting, to say the least. This body,” it gestured at itself, “is one I’ve used for so long, I never really felt the need to change it, but… now my child appears to be the same age as me, and it confuses people.” Levi laughed. “It’s funny, if I’m honest. I just tell them I’ve aged well.” A thought struck it and it reached a hand into its pocket, pulling out its phone and unlocking it. “Please tell me you’ve been keeping up with the times,” it chuckled as it passed the phone to Oliver. “More efficient than birds or letters, I suppose.”

—

Oliver huffed a breath “Yeah, it doesn’t feel like it’s here for no reason. I’m just concerned about the whole…why situation.” He explained, scratching the back of his head. The way Levi danced around the subject reminded Oliver a bit of a snake. Not necessarily in a bad way, but just that the other was careful about what and how they said things. It was a slippery subject it seemed. Oliver couldn’t help but grin when the other spoke about the trouble of having a non-aging body. It was something that the younger fae he interacted with didn’t always seem to grasp; so it was nice to have someone who shared the same woes that he did. 

“You could always say that you two are cousins or something, even siblings” Oliver offered up as a suggestion.  He, at least, could take on new names, new backstories, or even a new accent whenever he needed to. It would be harder if he was traveling around with someone who was more mortal and you have a story that you needed to follow. He rolled his eyes at the comment about keeping up with the times but nodded as he took the phone. “Yes, cell phones are something I’ve been using for quite some time.” Oliver explained as he put in his number and handed the phone back. “Birds and letters; even emails! They are so much more fun though. Plus, they are more reliable than a smartphone” He scrunched his nose. Oliver would still have a Nokia if he knew he wouldn’t get bullied for it. “Technology moves so quickly, it can be hard to keep up”

—

“The ‘why’ won't matter, eventually. I don't think knowing the reason is going to change anything.” The demon smirked, giving Oliver a noncommittal shrug. 

That was a funny thought — referring to Teddy as anything other than his child. But… “I guess I might have to, eventually. When they start to surpass me.” Levi could always alter its own appearance, which was the more likely scenario. Calling Teddy by some other familial title just felt wrong. 

“Mm. That's true,” Levi agreed as it accepted the phone back. “Dangerous to let yourself linger in nostalgia, though.” It winked at Oliver, clearly being contrarian just for the sake of it. “Though, speaking of nostalgia… don't suppose I could talk you into meeting up with me tonight, hm? For old time's sake. There's a lovely little speakeasy in Nightfall Grove that I've been meaning to visit.”

—

Oliver hummed quietly at the other's response “It wouldn’t, but knowing would allow me to start figuring out plans for if it all goes sideways, you know?” He shrugged. Having an escape plan had become a necessity the older he got; it didn’t have to be planned out, but knowing the basics was important. For instance, Oliver knew that several early morning trains left Portland every day; plus he knew the directions of all three of the airports within the state. However, he supposed, in this situation, if things went sideways it could mean that it was more than just Wicked’s Rest that was impacted. So he would just have to suck it up and deal with the anxieties that the shadowy beast brought. “Ha, yeah you could at one point pretend to be their son. I’m sure they would get a kick out of that.” The last time Oliver had seen Teddy it would have had to have been at least a decade ago, maybe two. It was always a bit strange, being reminded of how quickly Mortals can age. 

“I suppose that’s true.” Oliver grins and raises an eyebrow at the other’s proposition. “That sounds lovely actually. I close up here at 5; but I’m free after that.” This was not how he had expected his day to go when he woke up this morning, but he would be lying if he didn’t feel a spark of excitement about going out with Levi tonight. “The Raven, right? It’s a pretty nice place to go. Nice and spooky.” 

—

That was a fair point. But as Leviathan looked around the place, an idea struck him. “I don’t think you’ll have much to worry about,” it answered, and left the statement at that. It knew Oliver would likely have more questions: frankly, it anticipated that from anyone who knew it was a demon in disguise, but it had things it was prepared to say. Truths, or… half-truths, that would most likely dampen any overt curiosity. That was part of the deal, after all. 

“The very same,” the demon confirmed, grinning and nodding its head. “Well… tell you what. Sell me a succulent to take back to Teddy, one they won’t kill very easily, and I’ll let them know it’s from you, hm?” There was a cheeky look about him as he followed Oliver over to the succulent section, taking the first thing that was suggested and purchasing it without any follow up questions. The two shared in a bit more chit chat before Levi insisted that he must take his leave, saying his goodbyes and stepping back out onto the street. He hovered in front of the door for a moment, though, hand pressed to its frame, gaze fixed on the spot he was touching. When he moved his palm, there was a mark there—the same could be found on the frame of his own front door, if one were observant enough. No, Oliver would have nothing to worry about. Probably.

—

The way Levi phrased that answer made a small chill run about Oliver’s back, but he held his tongue on trying to get more information. It was clear that the other either couldn’t or simply wouldn’t be able to answer his questions directly; Oliver wasn’t interested in testing the other’s patience. At the request for a succulent, Oliver nodded quickly and moved over to the table where many of the succulents were. He picked out one that was pretty but was also low-maintenance. “Do you talk about me enough for them to remember who I am?” Oliver joked as he packed up the plant, handing it to the other. If their relationship were different, he probably would have argued against Levi paying for anything; but it wasn’t and so he didn’t. That knowledge didn’t stop him from giving a small wave when the other took his leave and went elsewhere in the store to deal with the blush that he was sure was dancing around his cheeks. He hadn’t seen Levi stop by the door, and whatever mark he would later spot, he would likely just believe it had always been there. 

[corpse-a-diem]

@faustianbroker replied to this post:

[pm] [ user is becoming increasingly annoyed that these messages don't seem to be reaching their intended destination ] First of all, yes you /can/ put a turquoise couch in a funeral home. How do you think being in a place that's all tan makes people feel better about their dead relatives? Liven it up, the decor doesn't have to be dead, too. Secondly, I think this is (yet another?) case of misdelivered messages... the name's Chuck, actually. And I don't sell couches.

[pm] I've been in the funeral industry for almost twenty years. The last time I tried to add a splash of color to my parlor I got called an unprofessional coffee shop. It just doesn't jive, trust me. And it's not dead looking. I'm making very trendy updates, okay? Hence the couch.

Another one? What's going on with this app? I had Fashion Daddy asking me for pamphlets and then someone who I'm pretty sure just thought I was Google -- they might just be elderly though. Is this happening to everyone?

Nice to meet you Chuck. You always talk to your friends like that? What do you sell?

[oceansrevenge]

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @faustianbroker & @oceansrevenge SUMMARY: Your typical sea monster meet-cute or something. Marina happens upon Leviathan swimming in the ocean and unfortunately for boaters, the two had a great time.

There was nothing in the world that compared to the open sea. The motion of the waves, even on a calmer day, soothed Marina in ways no tank ever could. No matter how meticulously the water was monitored to ensure her survival, it didn’t have the pull of the tides or small crevices to squeeze into while she slept. Since escaping the glass prison, she simply couldn’t get enough time in the ocean. Every cephalopod protected and in her presence helped return the strength that had been taken from her, healed the aches in all but her hearts. The feeling of strength in her tentacles had her craving one of her favorite pastimes. It had been too many years since her tentacles had wrapped around in a ship and sunk it to the ocean floor. 

The summertime months were filled with various vessels venturing into waters that were not theirs to explore and Marina longed to sink them all, but today, she would start with one. Test her strength and affinity with these new waters. She swam swiftly through waves as searched and finally laid eyes upon a vessel filled with humans with their phones out. There was a slightly satisfied curve to her mouth as she raced ahead, only to feel something else in the water swimming in the same direction. Something that mirrored her in size and intensity. She stopped in her place and laid eyes upon one of the most stunning creatures she’d ever seen. It had a dragonesque look that reminded her of tales the other nereides back home had told of sea monsters like the kraken and the Leviathan and it had a pale turquoise glow around some of its parts. It was remarkable. Would it like to toy with the humans in the same way she did or would it consider her a foe? It was decidedly not fae, the familiar chiming feeling under her skin wasn’t present and it was not one of her cephalopods. It was a risk and it was thrilling. She approached more slowly, wonder present in her eyes. “Wow,” her deep voice vibrated through the water, “You magnificent creature. What are you?” She didn’t expect a response, but she was curious to see what it did next. 

—

Some days Leviathan wanted nothing more than to return to the sea from which it had come, but it had things keeping it here, now. People. Besides, that sea was decidedly more lonely than this one, and so the demon often compromised by spending a day or two shifted and in the water until it felt ready to return to the human life that waited for it. 

This was one of those days, and Leviathan swam lazily through the water, fully aware that it had wandered into the path of one of the vessels from its tourism business, figuring that it might as well give some lucky bastards a show while it was in the area. 

But… huh. What was that? Many pairs of eyes flicked this way and that as its great, frilled head turned in the water, massive clawed and webbed feet pawing at the water to turn the serpentine body in a tight formation. 

Behind it was… whoa. Whoa. That giant mouth hung open in surprise at the sight of the… the what, exactly? Octopus… person. Fae? Had to be. It didn’t know of anything that looked like that, and fae were probably the most diverse species in appearance. 

I am the Leviathan, it answered honestly, voice sounding in her head and hers alone as it swam a little closer. Its heart thudded against its ribcage, gills flaring and bubbles erupting from its snout. What are you?

—

The way its voice reverberated through her mind made it feel as if its words were a song meant only for her. If Marina were to hazard a guess based on the clarity, she was almost certain that the words were for her and her alone to hear. There was a certain thrill to that, one that made her confident that its words were true and she was truly swimming before the Leviathan itself. And it was a thing of beauty. She wanted to see it in action, live the many stories she had heard of its antics. Her imagination surely could not do it justice. 

“Your words are true,” she stated plainly, her eyes still carefully monitoring its movements. As if taking in every small detail of its form, the way its gills moved, and the way she felt the change in the currents changing path around the large creature would commit it to memory with flawless clarity. “Leviathan,” she repeated softly, intrigue clear in her voice even under the water. 

The Leviathan was a legend, one she remembered telling tales of to Eula when she was just a young little thing. That thought added another layer of longing, one mixed with an ache that her sweet girl didn’t get to experience this moment of wonder alongside her. The memory still stood, Leviathan was the thing of legends and she would not slight it by leaving it waiting for an answer. “I’m a nereid,” she offered, “You may call me Marina.” 

Somehow, she had the feeling her name would sound something akin to the symphonies inspired by muses hearing it echoed in her own head in the voice of the beautiful sea serpent. A tentacle tentatively extended toward the demon, unable to help herself, but not foolish enough to show the creature anything but the utmost respect that its notoriety commanded. “May I?” 

—

Marina… its voice vibrated through her head once more, swelling and bursting like waves crashing through the entrance of a sea cave. Its many eyes danced to the tentacle she extended, and if that great, toothy maw could have cracked into a smile, it would have. Yes. Even in this body, it craved all the same things it had grown accustomed to by living among humans, and touch was top of the list. And to be touched by such a magnificent creature of the sea, well… that was simply a bonus. 

It swam closer, serpentine body coiling behind it as it leaned into the grasp of her many arms, clearly welcoming the closeness that it brought. She was small compared to it, but Leviathan still marveled at her size. I have never seen one like you, it mused, claws dragging lightly across her body as it admired the form. You are very beautiful, Marina. Marina… The voice now rumbled almost as if it were laughing, a theory backed up by the way its jaws parted and its head lolled as it pressed its snout against her. All those aquamarine eyes closed and the beast coiled tighter, basking in the effortless and mutually respectful connection that had been forged in an instant. If only it were always this easy.

—

Had her own name ever sounded quite so beautiful? The way it flowed and ebbed through her so that she could feel every syllable, feel the wondrous way in which this legendary being regarded her. If Marina hadn’t already been thoroughly taken with the magnificent creature, she would have been in that moment— instead, something akin to affection swelled through her that only grew when Leviathan leaned into her touch. The sensation of its skin was rough and she could feel its power. The very maw that danced into her touch could destroy even her and there was something exhilarating in that fact. 

There was a wave of pride in her. The Leviathan found her form beautiful and its appreciation showed in the gentle way its claws moved across her skin. Marina could hardly believe something so large, so powerful, could have such a light touch. She hummed in contentment. There was something especially thrilling in the promise of pain the sharp claws held despite the soft way they grazed her form. “And you are absolutely stunning,” she practically sang, leaning into its form as it looped and coiled around her, “What beautiful destruction you must be capable of.” 

Tentacles with a mind all their own, followed delicately across the demon to bask in its affection. Marina already felt a sense of adoration for it, one that normally only came so easily for other fae, but this creature so embodied the ocean that it was easy to feel at home in its touch. Her eyes drifted towards the vessel in the distance and she gave the creature a small nudge. “Perhaps you could show me,” she said deviously, low voice carrying in the water. 

—

Head turning in the direction she’d indicated, Leviathan let out a low, gurgling laugh. You know I would love to, it thrummed, but that vessel actually belongs to me. Looking back at her, it cocked its head to the side. Still. I will happily show you what I am capable of, Marina. You need only follow… 

Uncoiling from around her, the massive beast started a swim deeper out to sea, listening for the roar of engines. While it could travel at frightening speeds, it kept the pace leisurely, instead enjoying the feeling of swimming in a spiral around the nereid, brushing its scales against her body. 

If she was this gorgeous looking like herself, it could only wonder what her human disguise might look like. If she had one of those: it wouldn’t fault her if not. The ocean was a far more preferable place to be, after all. 

I have a home among them. For entertainment, mostly—this town provides plenty of that. You are always welcome, should you feel the urge to venture onto dry land. The house is on a beach, so there isn’t much arid travel required. 

A far off rumbling met its ears and the demon gestured with a jerk of its head. There we are. It was one of the big ones that hauled shipping containers full of god knows what—amazon packages, probably—overseas. A sizable boat, but nothing that the demon’s powerful jaws couldn’t rip through. As they approached the ship’s powerful propellers, Leviathan placed itself below Marina, eyes growing dark as pupils expanded in excitement. I like going for the propellers, it explained, they tickle. But, ladies first, if you like.

—

Bubbles seemed to surround them as the Leviathan seemingly laughed and there was something strangely endearing about it. Many stories of it had been told from the limited viewpoint of humans who were terrified of it and had painted it as a terrifying monster. Marina had no doubt that it could inspire terror in the hearts of many, but there was something so delightfully playful in the way it coiled around her and how she could feel its chuckle shifting the current around them ever so slightly. “Curious,” she thought aloud, letting her tentacles brush against its scales as it unwound itself from around, “I would not dream of destroying anything that is yours.” As much was true and not only because even she looked small next to its massive form. No, there was a kindred nature— a connection she couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t the same humming of bells under her skin she felt in the presence of other fae, but the feeling brought its own kind of warmth. 

“Lead the way,” Marina hummed, eager to follow alongside it. She had the feeling they could both swim faster, it likely considerably moreso, but the relaxed swim held its own magic to it. The way the great creature spiraled around her in a way that allowed them to brush each other every so often. It was an all encompassing experience that only became more so when its voice swam through her mind again. Even more curious. It had to have a human disguise, one she was almost certain could not hold a candle to the beauty it possessed now, but she wanted to see it all the same. She wanted to know where it fit into the human world and perhaps what it could teach her in that regard. 

“A home and a boat,” Marina wondered aloud. The more human-like arm of her form reached out toward it and her fingers stroked its scales as it made another loop around her. A quiet show of acceptance as she gathered her thoughts. “You divert expectations,” she finally said, “I appreciate the invitation and will likely take you up on it.” She paused briefly. “I have matters on land to attend to.”

For now, Marina would leave it at that. Discussing her business with the humans meant letting her thoughts drift to the circumstances that inspired her vendetta. The glass tank. The isolation. Eula. 

No, this particular moment was a bright one that didn’t need to be marred with thoughts of vengeance and rage. Marina could carry the happier memories of her daughter with her and let this experience be what it was— something beautiful, magical. As much became all too easy when she could hear and feel its voice again. Her skin flashed from its normal orange to an inky black before finally fading into a light brown. Somewhere alongside its voice, a laugh from her memory rang clear, too. Her own shortly followed. 

“Ach nai,” Marina let slip in her native tongue, before slipping back to the English they had been conversing in, “Surely just a tickle for one with such thick skin.” The powerful propellers on the vessel likely wouldn’t be quite as kind to her. Instead, she watched the vessel momentarily and focused on the movement of the water. Her eyes flit shut as she allowed herself to fully feel the current and tides, let herself become fully one with them. When her eyes fluttered back open, they gazed upon the ship. She willed the water to form waves larger and choppier than they were previously on such a clear day. The water was happy to oblige and the boat began to rock slightly. That was her moment. 

Marina drew in closer toward the ship and reached a couple of tentacles out to grab along some of its side railings. Paired with the motion of the water, she was able to gain enough leverage to violently jerk the vessel from side to side, sending a few of its crew over and into the water. She was quick to wrap a tentacle around one of the trashing humans and pull it under the surface with her as she moved closer to Leviathan. “I have a few humans to drown,” she spoke, “That’s my favorite part.” If she had been wearing her human visage, a devious grin would have painted her features. “Your turn. Show me your worst.”

—

Watching delightedly as the nereid commanded the water to do her bidding, Leviathan flexed its claws and flared its gills, now itching to take a bite of the vessel itself. It paced in the water, if you will, swimming to and fro as the massive nymph sent men hurtling overboard and into the stormy waters, where she snatched one up, ignoring his struggling and muted screams as he tried to claw himself free of her grip. 

Damn. That was pretty hot.

My worst, my worst… Its worst would require a different form. Larger, more lethal than this gentle cruiser. But that was easily done. Of course, Marina. Diving deeper, the demon opened its jaws as wide as it could, and something began to emerge from them. Tentacles, not unlike her own but scaled up considerably. They writhed and grasped the side of its great head, ripping the lower jaw off of the body. A split ran down the beast’s side, clouding the water down deep with blood, and something burst forth. Impossibly large when compared to the vessel it was vacating, unfolding like it had been vacuum sealed inside. It looked different, lacking in clawed appendages and with an enormous mouth like a lamprey—a gaping, circular opening lined with hundreds of jagged teeth. Once it was free of the gore of its former body, it sped toward the surface and crashed against the underside of the cargo ship with enough force to launch it out of the water about twenty feet. Its tentacles wrapped up and around the ship, circling it fully as that horrific mouth clamped down on the propellers. They groaned and stuttered before being ripped from their bearings, and the rear of the ship dipped low, the upper deck sinking a few feet beneath the water. Leviathan opened its maw wide, tentacles gathering at the end of the ship nearest its head, making it tilt at an even more extreme angle—and the desired effect was realized as a few of the crewmen fell, screaming, into the sea monster’s jaws. 

—

There was a hum in the currents as Marina watched the creature change into something bigger, something far more terror inducing but somehow even more beautiful. It carried into her hearts which pulsed with excitement as she watched the change and delighted over the inclusion of tentacles in this form. A deep laugh rang around her as she watched its massive maw go straight for the propeller. She imagined a mirror of a tickling sensation in her own beak, knowing full well the massive propellers would be more than a tickle for her. The way its tentacles wrapped around the ship and the loud crunch it made under its grasp had to be one of the most amazing things she had the fortune of seeing. 

Then the Leviathan was holding the ship at an angle, letting its crew fall into its jaws, and she knew those humans would never see the light of day again. Marina was giddy at the thought. It was magnificently destructive, a show to let the humans know they weren’t welcome here. The demon had taken her favorite pastime and made it into something even bigger, even deadlier, and it made her feel warm in a way she hadn’t in decades. 

“Brilliant,” Marina encouraged. She practically danced around the wreckage, grabbing wayward crewman who hadn’t quite made it into the Leviathan’s late afternoon snack and pulled them under. Some were easier to pull down than others, she took her time with the ones who trashed against her grip. One, two… a dozen? In the excitement, it was hard to keep count. 

“Such quick work of it,” Marina awed, “With a flair for the dramatics. I approve.” More than approved, she craved more. She could watch it swim and rip things apart for hours, but she longed to see its human disguise too— perhaps become better acquainted with it. It could create such carnage and wreckage with ease and lived amongst the humans from time to time. The Leviathan was a curious creature and this show only left her only more awestruck. 

—

Satisfied with its work, Leviathan dragged the ship below the surface with those massive appendages and slithered along the bottom of it, distributing its weight more or less evenly on each end of the ship before gripping tightly and ripping. The vessel cracked in half and began its descent to the sea floor where it would, in time, create a new reef. Whatever humans were still aboard, huddled in their hiding spots, would make food for the predators that were already headed this way. 

I am glad to hear that, the demon responded to Marina’s approval, moving her way again, its sheer mass shifting the currents around it and nearly pushing her about. And I am glad to see you… have enjoyed yourself. If it had had a mouth capable of smirking, it would have done so. 

If you have business among humans… I’d like to show you where you can find me up there. Wasn’t the only thing it wanted to show her, but that didn’t need saying. Yet.

—

There was always something satisfying about watching human-made vessels sink. Slowly, it’d be pulled to the ocean’s floor and be reclaimed by the life there. Algae and corals would grow on the surface, smaller fish would swim through it and make it their own. Larger predators would find meals in the remaining humans abroad. For all they took from the ocean, in moments like these, they were giving back. Marina found satisfaction in her waters reclaiming something so large. It’d soon be home to many more deserving and she found it easy to bear affection for the creature who made it possible. In such a stunning display, the kind sailors of older days wrote shanties about. 

“I’ve most certainly enjoyed myself,” she hummed, “And I’m glad you got a good meal out of the endeavor.” In so many ways, the demon embodied the ocean that its form was suited to it. It was capable of great destruction like the waves in a storm, but had a certain whimsy about it, too. The kind that made the sea enchanting and the subjects of poems and paintings, century after century. Just like its voice in her mind, the shift in the water as it moved toward her again felt all encompassing. As it neared her, she reached toward its tentacles, not asking this time before feeling them against hers. Even with her own considerably large size, her tentacles seemed so small in comparison. It didn’t scare her. Intuitively she knew Leviathan would do her no true harm, but the fact that it could was thrilling. 

“It’s as if you read my mind,” Marina responded, her hands brushing along some of the seafoam colored accents in its scales, “Though I have no intention of ruining such a wonderful day with business as such. I had… more exploratory endeavors in mind.” This form, while far superior to the glamour she wore, didn’t quite allow for the same expressive mannerisms. She hoped the emphasis on certain words served the same purpose as a smirk or the strange winking thing that humans did. Her fingers traced its scales a moment longer before gesturing ahead, “Lead the way.” 

[wonder-in-wings]

TIMING: Early/Mid August LOCATION: The Beach PARTIES: Levi (@faustianbroker and Parker (@wonder-in-wings SUMMARY: During one of his enforced days off, Parker visits the beach where he encounters a shifted and very moody Leviathan. CONTENT WARNINGS: Teeth trauma Day 9. For someone who was as fond of swimming as Parker, he sure hated the beach. He and his family would go to the ones in Louisiana on occasion in his youth but every instance he spent out of the water, on the sand, clambering in and out of the car and feeling the salt from the water crusting over him like a shell of misery and needles on his skin was nightmarish. As a child he didn’t like dry sand on him, he didn’t like it getting into every crevice, how his hair felt afterwards.

His parents never told him that the swamp waters of the bayou were often similar, estuaries of fresh and saltwater creeping into the mainland though usually they were too far inward for it to really count. Parker loved swimming around their isolated chateau, finding little animals and especially bugs, which was a given by now. Occasionally he’d find a snake or even a gator. As per his mind, the young Warden was never afraid of these creatures with their sharp teeth, deadly venom and powerful musculature. These were all but memories in Parker’s mind as he sat there on the beach, having taken a small towel as though that would protect him from the awful sand even if he’d long since grown used to how it felt, deciding some odd years ago that it was unreasonable for him to find textures displeasurable. He was wearing a white linen shirt, rolled up at the sleeves and only buttoned a few times near his naval. The Warden was wearing jeans, though, as he had no intention of going into the water this time - part of him wanted to, for sure, but though the injury on his face had lent itself nicely to a pronounced scar that permanently colored his features, he didn’t want to get salt water on it. Not yet. And, of course, the strange, busy utility belt rested comfortably on his waist; he likely wasn’t ever going to leave it behind again, not after the past week and a half he’d had. It was a comfort object, something for him to know was always there, something that helped focus him. An object of security for an unstable mind. He didn’t want to risk having another unintended “meltdown” in public. Parker hated calling them that, they weren’t true but at this point, he had no idea what else to call them other than “bitch fits”, which was below him. That was a term for the disparaging illiterates online. The thought riled something up in his stomach, but he had since tried to come to terms with these inflammations of emotion and had started experimenting with temporary coping mechanisms to deal with them. Today he was clenching and unclenching a fist in a rhythmic fashion, repeating it until his insides simmered down. 

It was going fine. 

That is, until he heard someone scream. The pitch managed to puncture through his thoughts and Parker turned his head sharply in the direction of it. As it turned out, it was a woman talking to another woman and pointing worriedly to a distant part of the beach, a rocky place where no one was populating it either in the water or on the sand next to it. Instantly he felt intrigued - if she screamed and pointed, surely that meant that there could’ve been something over there, right? Perhaps a shark or even… His mind filled with curiosity at the thought that he could see a nereid, unlikely as that was. Parker got to his feet, abandoning the towel as he started to make his way over to the part that was gestured towards, finding potential in the rocky shoals and rough waves. 

—

A hulking figure had beached itself in the hard-to-reach cove, and that figure would have been thankful for the cover of high rocky walls on either side of it, if not for the anger that had driven it there in the first place. Well, anger and pain. Its muscles ached with fatigue that was not its own—it was an all-over sensation that seeped deep into the tissue, pain receptors alight as if they’d been set ablaze by some intangible, invisible instigator… which was true. It was the tether that tormented the demon, sapping it of its strength and its ability to tamp down those large, deadly emotions that it felt. The tether was the cause of its ire in every way that it could be, at this moment—it was what both inspired and allowed the wrath to run rampant. Being human in any capacity was like a lightning rod for complex and big feelings, and the demon didn’t like it. Not one bit.

Seeing what had happened to Teddy forced Leviathan to recognize what had been happening to it, and it was not on board. It’d been playing at this for too long. This ‘game’, this experiment… it was detrimental. It made Leviathan care too much. And caring, well, that was dangerous. That was foolish. 

But just because it had realized this didn’t mean it could immediately stop. So instead, the demon returned to the sea and took out its frustration on any and every human vessel it encountered, sinking them to the depths with a voracious appetite as if trying to remind itself of what it was meant to be. How it was meant to act. Unfortunately, all that destruction came with a cost—one cracked tooth that now throbbed painfully and had sent the beast into a pitiable fit. Which was when it had beached itself, and now it lay there, sides heaving, feeling too upset and sorry for itself to do anything other than bake in the sun. Its long neck and massive, dragon-like head were pushed up into the dry sand, half buried as it had thrashed about during the fit, jaws agape to keep pressure off of the aching tooth, tongue lolled onto the sand. Flippers dug deep into the wet sand beneath its chest and belly, the huge sail fin on its back quivering in the wind, and feeding tentacles flopped uselessly in the shallow water. The tail, nearly as long as the rest of the creature combined, whipped dangerously this way and that, almost like a cat displaying its anger. It moaned, the sound coming out like the thunderous, rumbling bellow of a crocodile, followed by a hiss as it pushed all the air from its lungs.

—

There were warnings in his head, warnings that told Parker that he should’ve turned around. He’d already gotten into a handful of scrapes, some of which were successful but none of them had given him the satisfaction of collecting, a validation that he craved from an unknown source. He hadn’t slept the night that he took the nymph’s tail to his workshop - he hadn’t slept the night before, either. Every attempt plunged him into an abyss of shadowed nightmares that didn’t exist, so he decided to forgo it in favor of his body crashing when it was ready. He ascended a treacherous rock wall slowly and carefully as he heard an uncomfortably loud and almost alien sound he knew was coming from the other side of the rough face he hugged. The warnings in his head were almost louder at this point but Parker kept his sleep-deprived blue eyes facing up and forwards; his biggest concern at the moment was that he didn’t grow up with this type of terrain and he was unaccustomed to it. One would’ve thought that the sound alone was enough to send shivers of terror into a reasonable mind, calling vague images of sea monsters to the forefront of the imagination. Parker had no such desire for self-preservation that outweighed his curiosity. As he climbed, eventually pulling himself over the edge, those same sleep-deprived eyes first caught sight of a gigantic, piscine sail. His breath caught in his throat at that sight but as his eyes drifted back down to see what the sail belonged to, he found himself seemingly gazing into an abyss. Surely the… creature? Anomaly? Old One? Parker wasn’t even sure how to refer to what he was looking at but he was immediately stricken with a primal fear.

The Warden had found himself on the edge, staring down at a massive abomination, a monstrosity that had been written about by Lovecraft in the throes of paranoia, the pirates who would mark such serpents on their maps. A dragon that was described in multiple religious texts. It moaned, a crocodilian hiss that was all too familiar in Parker’s mind though he couldn’t be sure what it meant. This was a powerful beast his curiosity had willed him to find, and it seemed beached. Surely it wasn’t dying…? Eyeing the long, almost recognizable whip-like tail as it flickered not unlike that of… well, an irritated jaguar, he pulled his legs over the edge and, incredibly foolishly, started to slide down the rock face, effectively placing him into the den of the leviathan creature. Whatever warnings that Parker had rattling around in his brain were falling on half-deaf ears. He was there now, at the mercy of the beached serpent.

—

It picked up on the human’s presence before it saw them, but that mattered little. What was a mouse to an apex predator, even in this state? What danger could any of them really present? It left the creature with room to be dramatic, room to play for pity. It would be amusing, if not for the very real sense of desperation that ran through the cold, dark marble of the Leviathan’s heart like thick veins of gold, all sparkling and enticing and ready to turn brother against brother, father against son. 

So it simply continued to lay there, sucking in another deep breath and letting its eyes roll in their sockets as they followed the human down the cliffside until his feet met the warm sand. 

Then, the sea demon lifted its head, pulling that sand-caked tongue back into its long jaws as it shut them gently, craning its neck to look at the human. Fuck, it was tired. Even the burden of holding its head up was too much to weather, and the demon let it drop to the beach again, blasting air and seawater out of its nostrils as it blinked its many small eyes in the human’s direction. The weight of its own skull pulled by gravity down onto the broken tooth sent waves of pain through its whole head and neck and it bellowed again, electing to just keep the jaws parted as it rolled onto its side. 

Whatever that person was doing here, they could get their fill of spectacle and then fuck right off, it figured. No one would believe him, anyway. No one sane. And those that did believe, well, they’d know better than to fuck around, else they find out. 

Another low whine escaped the creature’s chest as it continued to feel very sorry for itself, angry at the stupid metal for cracking its tooth rather than feeling foolish for throwing such a tantrum in the first place. It was well within reason to be upset, wasn’t it? Teddy had nearly died and now it needed to find a way to end their shared power before Teddy managed to do something even worse and cause irreparable damage. Not unlike this tooth. Fuck’s sake. 

—

Parker wasn’t on the sandy shore for long when the great beast lifted its giant head just long enough to regard him before letting it fall again, another roar tearing the air. Its head on the ground sent a tremor through both it and the Warden and he instinctively lifted his hand to cover his good ear, protecting what hearing he had left from the terrifying sound. He should’ve been afraid. And maybe he was. But contrary to every other instance he’d experienced up until this point, the ones with shifters, fae, humans, himself, Parker felt he must’ve gone so far in one direction that it looped back around to him keeping himself calm and controlled. He breathed deeply, shielding his face from the sea sprayed air that the leviathan exhaled but otherwise very slowly making his way towards the massive beast. He wasn’t sure why he kept advancing. Maybe this would be where the Collector, the broken son of the Wright Warden Legacy would meet his end. Even beached, half-buried in the sand and flopping about like a dying animal, the man knew that absolutely nothing he could have attempted to do would’ve been enough to keep the serpent from effortlessly killing him. As he approached, holding one hand to his ear and the other hand protecting the lower half of his face, Parker felt something tugging in his chest, something that he was sure wasn’t the case. He was reminded of an alligator with its reptilian maw, the way it hissed, the teeth that were the size of Parker’s torso as they clacked pitifully against each other. The Warden seemed smaller than the dragon’s tongue, and yet he didn’t feel fear pulling at him as he now stood close enough to feel the temperature of the scaled skin that stretched across the titanic skull, but still very visible to the beast’s many-eyed gaze. “You’re in pain.” It didn’t sound right, not really, not compared to something of that magnitude and magnificence, but the sentence still tumbled out of Parker’s mouth. He was reminded of an alligator… one that he found with the splinters of a harpoon lodged in its jaw, similar in behavior and evoking a very small, but intimate part of the Warden’s recently reawakened emotions.

—

Black blood ran along its gray tongue, oozing slowly from the injured tooth. That same blood coated the inside of Leviathan’s gargantuan mouth, turning the purplish, blueish, grayish landscape into that of a pitch black night sky on the verge of splitting open to release a powerful storm. 

Those seafoam green eyes fixed themselves on the human, and the beast chuffed miserably, kicking sand into the air with the force of the blast from its maw. 

Very astute, it chided, the voice coming from nowhere and everywhere all at once, ringing in the human’s head rather than actually carrying itself upon soundwaves. It sounded like the promise of pain; guttural and animalistic and old, if such a thing could be conveyed by voice alone. 

Have you come to gawk, then? Or perhaps you intend to run off and tell everyone what you’ve seen? What could they do in the face of such power? Nothing, it knew. Nothing, yet it still felt that nagging irritation at the idea of having to slither back into the sea because its alone-time had been interrupted by a gaggle of rubberneckers. 

—

It was then that Parker heard a chorus of voices hammering in his head, all saying the same thing but clear, not marred by his deficient hearing. It was deep, it was resonant, it sent an involuntary pulse of primal panic through the Warden’s frame as it felt as though he were injected with the words instead of given them for him to listen to or not of his own volition. He could only assume that whatever this creature was, it had the power of telepathy, something completely and utterly alien to the man, who until very recently kept his thoughts and emotions under lock and key. A blast door rusted shut with age and neglect. 

Suffice to say, since that blast door rusted shut with age and neglect had since been ripped open without his consent, the shiver of fear as the beast projected its words into his head, shook him violently and Parker had to breathe through his mouth to keep from either turning and climbing back up the rocky wall as fast as he possibly could or passing out on the spot from the pressure. He took a deep breath and felt his brow twitch as he regarded the leviathan, looking into its numerous eyes with his simple two. “Neither.” He said, unable to hide the tremor that carried itself in his tone despite giving the monster a look that showed no fear at all. The dragon could implant its voice into Parker’s head, surely it knew the adrenaline that coursed through his body but he was determined to push through it, not give in the fear, the emotions. He took a step forward as his mother’s voice soothed his mind, a calming presence after the thunderous voice of what he could only assume was a god or a demon. ‘My son, be gentle for me’. It was the same voice he heard when he got into the altercation with Felix. Parker… wasn’t a murderer, he was a collector. He wasn’t a gawker, he was observant. He wasn’t a gossip, he was incredibly private. He didn’t like the insinuation that he was here to gawk or run and tell other people; they were cowards. They didn’t have the courage to do what Parker did, scale the wall to find Dagon on the other side. They didn’t get to relish in the splendor of the sea beast, wither under its scrutinizing gaze, be made acutely aware of their own scope in relation to what existed out there. It was… humbling. He hated it but he couldn’t reject it as it sent waves of humility, fear, and anger through his body. “I…” He sighed softly, more of a breath than an expulsion of air. “Don’t suppose there’s anything I can do to…” Parker swallowed, the smell of blood in his nose. “Help.”

—

Curious. The stranger wanted to help. 

The division between the beast and the human visage it wore had always been pronounced—when it played house, it took on human behaviors. The more time it spent living that life, the easier assimilation became, and the beast was almost forgotten, at times. Until the sea called to it, until tentacles reached up to grasp the demon by the ankles and drag it back below the waves where it belonged. 

As it was now, it lost sight of the human aspects it had adopted over the years. It forgot, in a way, what it was to be human, until it assumed that form once more. And the longer it remained inhuman, the colder and more distant it became. After so much time resigning itself to the sea, Leviathan was more like its true self than anyone in this town had ever known it to be. Even Teddy, who called the being father, had always managed to conjure up its tender side. One that simply would not have existed if not for their connection. As it had looked upon the babe those many years ago, it had been pure curiosity that had driven its actions.

Over time, curiosity turned to affection.

Now it turned to something else. 

That unwavering, piercing gaze held the man’s form in its sights for many long seconds after he had finished speaking, as if weighing the offer to see how much of it was truth. There was no reason for the man to speak falsehoods, he could simply run if he felt so inclined, yet he did not. And so, it decided to humor him. What would help? Remove the offending body part. 

Cut it out, it hissed inside his head, the voice rolling over itself like an echo of the ocean’s waves that lapped at its hindquarters. The tooth. It opened its mouth wider, righting its head and rolling back onto its belly to make gaining access easier. Deep in the creature’s maw was a fang that had a fracture running from base to tip, slicked in black blood and, if the human would crawl into the jaws of death to inspect it, would wiggle in its spot with a gentle push. 

—

The rumbling of the serpent’s voices in Parker’s head was expected this time and while it still unsettled his mind, he now had a response to his inquiry and surprisingly enough, it wasn’t a bellow to get out of the sight of the dragon, to turn and flee as he was told for having long worn out his welcome by virtue of existing in the same space as it. Instead, it spoke to him again, telling him to cut it out. Fortunately, the creature specified what he wanted for the Warden to ‘cut out’ as before, it was a nebulous instruction. He was reminded of those times he’d bothered his brother. ‘Cut it out’, he said, referring to the younger Warden’s questions.  The monster’s jaw opened further and Parker took a few small steps back as the beast adjusted its head, appearing like the mouth of a cave as the words were sent to the man’s mind. A tooth. His eyes weren’t gifted in the ways that other hunters were but even in the darkened maw of the leviathan, he managed to easily find the supposed afflicted tooth - in the back, coated in black blood that gave it a glisten and it appeared abyssal. Split with herculean effort and the sight alone sent an all-too-human pang through the man.

Daring to venture closer, Parker cast a quick glance up into the seafoam eyes once more and he placed his hands on the lower jaw of the beast. “Okay.” He exhaled, finding the blood mixed with the monster’s breath unpleasant to his senses and he was nauseated by it but he pressed forward. It was a daunting sight and an even more impossible task - he was effectively told that he could help by climbing into the mouth of an ancient sea beast and removing one of its teeth. He’d read books, listened to fairy tales, this was a bad idea waiting to happen, a burning building he knew someone was inside of.

‘Parker, I understand the way you are. Which is why these moments of grace are so important to me.’ 

It wasn’t the screaming of alarms in his body telling him to run that he listened to. It was the gentle call of his mother, the siren in her own right who possessed the incredible ability to be both beautiful and deadly. She could hunt fae with the best of them, once having a higher kill count than his father even. And then, her blood-soaked hands could cup Parker’s face in them immediately after to soothe him, tell him that he was going to be okay when she found him with tears on his face for no reason he could comprehend. It was the gentle call of his mother and her elegance that pushed Parker to lift himself into the gaping, toothy opening of the leviathan, pushing through the nausea and overwhelming fear and futility in trying to figure out how the hell he was supposed to remove a tooth from a giant. He had tools, but was he willing to risk using them if one wrong move, one cut with his blade against a nerve could mean a quick and painful death? He wondered how loose the thing was; he wondered how deep the root ran. “I have sedatives.” He said aloud once he was in the mouth, treading slowly and carefully across the giant, sand-covered tongue. “Do you think those would help?” He asked, very much doubting that they’d be of any use at all; they were powerful but the serpent was decidedly hundreds of times bigger than anything else he’d used them on before.

—

They could… possibly numb. They both knew that nothing the human had would come close to putting it to sleep, but there was a small chance that whatever sedatives he carried might double as a local anesthetic. Or maybe not, but it wasn’t like it would hurt to try. Use them. We will see. 

It paused in its breathing, allowing the man a moment of quiet as he walked carefully across its tongue. … I will not eat you, it added, knowing that its word probably meant very little to someone in such a compromised position. I just want the ache to cease. 

Truly, it was bizarre that the man hadn’t run for his life like those that had seen Leviathan swimming here had. That probably earned some curiosity. 

… why do you help?

—

Inside the mouth, presumably in a place where the gargantuan entity couldn’t see him (unless it either had omniscience or eyes on the inside), Parker wordlessly nodded in affirmation. He wasn’t sure why, but he somehow trusted the rumbling voices in his head. He reached the tooth carefully, the seal-like tongue strange under his steel-toed boots, his hand clenching with a reflexive desire not to get the texture of the inky black blood on his palm; on a good day, on a normal day, it was something to be disregarded, closed down after the briefest of spikes of irrational anger on his skin. Today, Parker took an unintentionally shaky breath and he placed the same hand that had clenched moments before on the surface of the tooth, rubbing his fingers against the surface and wiping away the pitch blood to get a feel for the texture of the bone beneath. Surprisingly to him, the tooth seemed to move fractionally; that was good, that meant it might be easier for him to pull. Quickly coming to the realization that his entire outfit was going to be effectively destroyed because of the thick black liquid that oozed from the gums of the leviathan, his clean hand reached for the needle-like daggers that were looped on his belt. He pulled all four of them out and bundled them up together. “I don’t know.” Parker replied bluntly at first and that was his honest answer; the reason behind his spontaneous, uncharacteristic act of kindness wasn’t immediately evident to the Warden. “...I’m emotionally unstable.” He admitted afterwards, opting out of any veiled comments or insinuations. Turning the cluster of daggers over briefly, he glanced up at the gum of the tooth, which was above his head but swollen enough that he would be able to get all of the daggers in. “I’m going to attempt the sedatives.” He announced then, without waiting for further thought to interrupt it, he reached up and plunged the four daggers into the inflamed flesh at the base of the tooth.

—

Emotionally unstable? Leviathan would have laughed, if not for the everything of this situation. What had spurred the upset, the ache in its jaw, the anger it felt over having to leave when it didn’t want to—these things did not lend themselves to a good sense of humor. Still, it appreciated the candid response.

I see. There was a pause and the sail on its back twitched at the feeling of the tooth being jostled, but the jaws did not move. I suppose I am feeling similarly. The human announced his intent to administer the sedatives, and Leviathan braced itself… but the blades were too small to really be felt. It was more like a pinch than anything. 

Settling in, the demon wished it had found a boulder to set between its teeth so it did not have to hold its mouth open for so long.

Oh. If you require light… Spots along the roof of its mouth and down its throat suddenly illuminated on command, casting a blueish green glow that mirrored the color of its eyes. There was more on its outside that glowed as well, but that mattered not for the task at hand. If you have sedatives… do you have other tools on hand that will assist in the extraction? And for what purpose, it wondered, though it figured that question could come after the human was no longer standing upon its tongue. 

—

It was easy for the mind to fill in the spaces where there was nothing for means of processing information. Likewise, Parker supposed the mind also did that when it came to relativity; he was anticipating a much larger reaction to four needles in the beast’s heated flesh but then again, his daggers were small even by “dagger” standards, not to mention he was literally standing in the mouth of Jormungandr. Standing. As a man over six feet tall. When the beast agreed, in a sense, Parker felt himself wondering what arcane horrors could serve as a rough equivalent to drive an ancient sea beast into emotional instability. …Of course, this was assuming that it was something that could even be comprehended by him. He realized how stupid he must’ve sounded and he had to pause in his observation for several moments that seemed impossibly long, breathing heavily through his mouth and squeezing his eyes shut to push the embarrassment out of his mind. “Seems like we’re both having bad days.” He said, knowing full well that their situations could hardly be compared but as he was between the jaws of a great serpent, feeling very human even with his emotions swinging out of control, he attempted to form some semblance of a connection. It was unusual for him. And he wasn’t good at it. But he could hear his mother’s gentle coaxing in his mind all the same and that seemed to push him more towards trying to help, get through the day ideally in one piece. The leviathan mentioned lights and no sooner had it than the cavern that served as its mouth was illuminated in a seafoam glow. Parker’s pupils shrunk to black pinpricks in the icy blue as he grimaced slightly from the change in brightness but he recovered quickly enough, giving himself just a moment to glance around at where he was standing - the rows of jagged teeth, the blood that oozed from the root, the massive, seal-like tongue that Parker lightly tread upon, and further in he could see an alien esophagus. ‘Do you have other tools that will assist in extraction?’ The serpent’s voice rumbled in Parker’s head as the latter got a better look at the cracked bone; it was loose and not entirely wedged up in the gum but still, he wasn’t sure if the demon’s physiology was closer to a gator’s or a human. How far up was the root? He sighed quietly, his shoulders visibly slumping. “I have a knife.” He replied. “I don’t think it’s going to help, though. I’m just going to pull.” As he spoke, the fear that lined his voice was still there but it took a back seat to conviction. If he was going to die in the mouth of the sea monster, at least he was going to die trying to make something less miserable, for whatever good that did him. And that was unusual coming from him. “Let me know when you’re ready.” He said as his eyes danced over the tooth, seeing where he could wedge his hands to get some leverage.

—

Bad week. Bad month? It’s a blur. Its tone had shifted somewhat, taking on the silhouette of something more conversational and less direct and demanding, but that shadow still very much belonged to a creature of unfathomable age, experience, and cruelty. 

And in spite of this, it lay docile on the beach. In spite of this, it dug those flippers deeper into the sand, many eyes rolling up to look at the sky overhead as the man in its mouth informed it that he was going to pull until it came loose. Fantastic. 

Ready. As it would ever be, it supposed. It could feel small nudges here and there, points of mild pressure as fingers pressed against gums, searching for a spot to grip. They found it near the back of the tooth, where it had been pushed out of alignment and popped slightly free of its home—painful as anything. The sedatives had helped a bit, but there was still a sharp stab of pain as the man found purchase and tugged as hard as he could. Leviathan growled, deep and instinctual and ferocious, but its jaws remained open and it let Parker continue with his work, eyes squinting shut again. 

Blood seeped from the wound and the blackened tongue beneath Parker’s feet flexed in pain with each wretched tug. It was being vocal, that much was certain, but it was determined not to bite down, no matter how badly it wished to. 

Parker pulled, Leviathan bellowed, and finally, finally the damn thing ripped free. The beast lifted its head and angled its dragon-like snout down toward the sand, depositing Parker and the broken tooth on the beach before it closed those jaws again, hissing out a long breath that sent blood splattering in every direction. It shook its head like a dog trying to rid itself of a bee sting, shifting its weight in the sand before craning that long neck around to splash its head down into the shallow water. This seemed to soothe it, and the beast stilled save for the heaving of its massive chest. The bioluminescent parts of it seemed to dim and brighten in tune with its breathing, mouth opening again to let the seawater in to rinse away the mess. 

Thank you. It heaved a weary, trembling sigh, tail whipping through the air before splashing back in deeper water. Whoever you are.

—

It said it was ready and Parker didn’t hold himself back as his hands found as good of a grip as they were going to get given the circumstances, which he wasn’t sure he was either able or willing to explain to anyone; how would he? With them in position, he gulped starting pulling with every fiber of his being. Immediately, he felt it shift though it was obviously deep enough that it wasn’t going to be deterred in one fell motion. The serpent rumbled in a guttural growl that sent involuntary shivers through the Warden but he used that to his advantage; fear was a motivator and he told himself that if he stopped for any reason, he was going to die. So he coiled himself up and pulled again, virtually throwing himself down so intensely that he thought he was going to dislocate one or both of his arms. The growling turned into roaring, the sound pulsing and pounding in Parker’s deficient head and he felt a swirl of emotions that somehow, he managed to stave off. The ‘ground’ beneath him grew unsteady, his arms were becoming coated and slicked with thick black blood. The beast’s deep-throated bellows rang and the culmination of everything threatened to send the man into a shutdown but he didn’t. He couldn’t. ‘Just pull, boy. Wrights don’t freeze up.’ 

By the end of it, Parker had almost gotten into the position of someone doing pull-ups, using his weight, dangling from the tooth as the dragon’s tongue was moving too much under him for him to feel as though he were able to use an anchor. With a final heave, feeling the muscles rippling beneath his blood-smeared arms, the tooth was wrenched free with a root-snapping ‘clchk’ and he landed roughly on his back in the wet mouth of the demon, holding a cracked, bloodied tooth that was roughly the size of his torso. It was all he could do to curl around it as immediately the serpent moved with him in it and it dumped him onto the sand. For a few agonizingly long moments, he lay there on the beach among the blood, saliva and sand that clung to every part of him, his blackened arms tightly wrapped around the fang (though he knew better) and gasping for air. The leviathan hissed and Parker felt himself being sprayed with yet more pitch, taking each unpleasant fleck as confirmation that he wasn’t actually dead. The deafening expulsions of air from a monster in pain were drowned out by the droning of the aftermath of an explosion that now buzzed in his head. The creature moved, he remained still and soon enough it settled, leaving the two of them quiet, save their respective breathing.

It took the great serpent speaking in his head again for Parker to be yanked out of whatever coping dissociation he’d unintentionally fallen into to avoid the overwhelming conflict of textures and sensations he was experiencing. His eyes opened as he was pulled back to the present and he felt tears trailing down his temples, mixing with the inky blood as they got into his messy brown hair. And only adding to his whirlwind of emotions, the pendulum swinging wildly was the ancient beast, the creature he knew wasn’t from a perceptible reality that he could remotely recognize, thanked him. His expression softened. He went from looking bewilderingly up at the bright blue sky as though it were twisting and shifting before his very eyes in an apocalyptic endeavor to accepting what it was. It was just the sky. It was just the sky and he was just Parker and the leviathan just thanked him out of some human obligation. And that was fine. The Warden didn’t like thank-yous but he was so– ‘Overstimulated. That’s what it’s called sometimes, bro. We’ve talked about this.’ Parker loathed such terminology, especially when applied to him but perhaps… it held some truth to it sometimes. He gulped and his mouth lolled open for a second or two. “...You’re welcome.” The sentence had so rarely been uttered that it came out as a cracked mutter, unpracticed and uncertain. His eyes fluttered closed, his breathing falling more under control; deeper, more even, actually giving him oxygen. He still held the tooth in a deathgrip - he’d have to be killed before he’d relinquish such a treasure, even if Parker didn’t know what it belonged to. The Warden wasn’t sure what was keeping him conscious, feeling a lull wanting to pull him in a false sense of security, the safety of falling asleep after so many nights of not being granted such a luxury. Would he dream, at long last? Would he recognize the nightmare as the world-spanning serpent? He couldn’t know. “Whoever you are.” 

—

It watched the man for a moment before sliding itself backward into deeper and deeper water, head held flush with the waves, mouth still agape to allow the rinsing to continue. The sail on its back rose high into the air as it flexed to its full height, shivering in the strong winds that gusted over the ocean water.  It saw the way he clung to the tooth, and chuffed to itself. Enjoy your prize, Leviathan pressed into his mind, sinking itself beneath the water. And pray we do not meet again. And with that, it was gone. Off like a shot to its private little island to lurk in the cover of fog until it felt ready to come ashore once more.

[eldritchaccident]

Timing: About a week after [Rock Bottom] Location: The Mines Feat: @faustianbroker @honeysmokedham @mortemoppetere & @eldritchaccident Warnings: Descriptions of Gore, Suicidal Ideation tw Summary: Emilio, Nora, and Leviathan head into the mines to find what remains of Teddy Jones

For as long as humans have had fire, they’ve had reason to fear the darkness. 

What it hid, what it could become, fearing the unknowns was what drove them to survive. They invented stories to comfort themselves, stories to further scare those who were perhaps a bit too brave. Deep below Wicked’s Rest, beneath a labyrinthine maze of carved stone. Past vast empty caverns and open fissures. Dizzying heights and deadly drops. A room filled with a palpable darkness waited. To the one inside, it was nothing to be afraid of. Comforting, even. At least to a half-dead demon who didn’t want to see the mess they’d made of themself. 

Days and nights had gone by, lending no changes at all to a room so far down. In the darkness, a beast lay. Half submerged in a long forgotten lake of groundwater. Its ragged breath, the only thing keeping the dark from being completely silent as well. A horrid wheezing noise accompanied each intake. A low moaning wail followed shortly with each exhale. The stench of blood and decay crowded out the mineral breath the chamber once held. This had been the place where Teddy had retreated to before. 

Coming back from each trip above ground with their tail tucked between their legs and fresh corpses in their maw. Some part of the demon knew it wasn’t right. Knew that despite her bravado, this wasn’t the kind of thing Nora needed to see. This wasn’t the kind of thing Cass needed to find out her ‘hero’ did. But the beast was so hungry and the crystals sang so sweetly of violence. It boiled the demon’s blood and bid it to rage against any who would seek to hinder the plans laid out by the mines. 

With the fissures cracking open all over town, and the crystal protrusions jutting from them, it was like the mines had ears everywhere. What was Teddy if not a perfect tool to use? All the crystals had to do was sing enough that the demon’s thoughts drifted off to some unconscious place. Let the beast in their heart come out to play. 

There was no playing anymore. It’d been a while since the last time the demon was able to stand let alone hunt. Whatever that acid spouting crystal creature was… it did a fucking number on them. True, actual consciousness still hadn’t returned. They were running on steam, on bare bones, on rotting flesh that had been stockpiled in the cavern far enough away from the girls that they wouldn’t catch wise to the growing smell. The demon gnawed at the corpses, needing something to feed it as it tried to heal. As the wound in its side festered in a way that it shouldn’t have been able to without some manner of consecrated bullshit. 

Who knew if it would ever heal? Or if the mines would just give up their new toy and let it rot alongside what was once a bunch of humans. Let the little lake be forgotten again. Let the darkness be a tomb instead of a blanket. 

— 

Nora was Nora again. Emilio wasn’t sure she was particularly happy about the development — she seemed more morose than usual, not entirely herself — but he was. Things like crystals growing out of someone rarely ended well and, all things considered, this case had gone far better than he’d hoped it might. But there were still loose ends. Things that needed tying up… and things that would hopefully be easier to tie up now that they knew the secret ingredient to fixing it.

Maybe he should have figured it out sooner. In the mines, the day he and Nora and Teddy went up against those gem-faced fuckers. The acid had melted down some of the crystals on Teddy’s skin, but Emilio had been far more concerned with the state of the demon when they’d run off than he had been with the possibility of curing them. He didn’t even know if Teddy was alive now. Given the way they’d looked when they’d run, he wasn’t hopeful. But if there was any shot at all, he’d take it. He owed them that much, after the alley. Owed Levi, too.

It didn’t surprise him that the elder demon had wanted to join this particular journey. If it’d been his kid, Emilio wouldn’t have taken no for an answer, either. He wasn’t sure it was a good idea. As much as it might come in handy having the Leviathan on their side… he wasn’t sure he wanted to be around if they found Teddy and it was too late. He didn’t particularly like seeing a father’s grief in general, but he thought he’d probably like it a lot less if the father in question was of the ‘ancient and demonic’ variety. Still, he knew better than to tell Levi no, or Nora when she’d insisted on tagging along, too. 

So here they were. Three people, on their way deep into the mines. They’d collected their ‘cure’ beforehand, luring as many of the gem creatures as they could find and extracting the acid. Emilio had no idea how much it’d take but, given Teddy’s size, he knew it’d be a lot. They were all loaded down with the stuff, looking to the world like a very odd expedition crew as they trudged along. And Emilio was on edge, but when wasn’t he? 

He glanced back to his companions, jaw set in a straight line. “Keep an ear peeled,” he said. “And don’t touch any of those fucking rocks. Don’t want two people to cure.” He looked pointedly at Nora.

—

“Are you some sort of buff jesus cosplayer?” Those were the first words Nora said upon meeting Chuck. Because like most insecure people, Nora had an anger deep in her soul. One that was reignited by the loss of her crystal body and understanding that her love for the mines had been those crystals, so beloved to her, just a trick. A parasite playing on her insecurities, giving her what she wanted and planting alien thoughts in her brain. Nora hated the mines for it. She hated herself for it. With no words to express those hates, no experience in communicating her emotions, and the anger of youth behind her, she reverted to the classic. Bullying others around her who’ve done nothing wrong. 

Never much one for words before, Nora had regressed into a sulking shadow. After her one quip for the day, she shoved her hands deep into pockets and slouched in the back of the group as Chuck and Emilio came up with the plan. Bodybuilder Jesus probably wasn’t bad if he cared enough about Teddy to come to the rescue mission. Nora, unclear on how they knew each other or what the plan was, had followed them back into the mines. The belly of the beast, now a sinister place. It hurt. The memory of how fond she’d been of this place. How light she’d felt when thinking of the mines. Now that lightness was replaced by an anchor tugging her into despair, into anger, into a want to beat something up.

That’s why Nora brought a baseball bat. Sure, knives were cool Nora loved her knives. But today? She wanted to bash and bash and bash until something hurt as much as she did. Nora had spent last night hammering nails into the Barbie brand pink baseball bat she’d stolen from a softball player. It had been fun beating the creatures into a pulp and freeing their acid from them. But now the violence was over and Nora still felt angry and empty.

“I’m not going to touch the crystal.” The look on his face, Nora didn’t miss it. She had considered touching a crystal. Wouldn’t it be easy? To go back into a state of bliss with the body of her dreams? But her whole life had been a fight for agency in a life that she could control. The mines had stripped her of that. She would strip the mines of anything they cared about in return. The jars of acid let out soft clinks as they moved, making them sound like the world's weirdest wind chimes. Now they just needed to find Teddy. Nora hoped they knew how. If Teddy was too far gone, or hurt, or dead ‐ dead was a word she had been trying to avoid - Nora would never be able to forgive herself. She had been so passionate about the mines, their crimes were surely her burden. 

—

This is exactly why you don’t start living among the humans and taking them on as family, it could hear the voice of its oldest friend in its head, bitter and resentful. It had never really forgiven Leviathan for showing such an affinity for the pitiful creatures, not even when the rare species they unknowingly shared their dimension with became known to the both of them. They’re still a waste of time, it had warned Lkrak’Oaazhir, who had ignored the warnings in favor of a more exciting kind of life. “I’m tired of being worshiped. Tired of the same old rituals, the same requests, the same fear,” Lkrak’Oaazhir had answered angrily. It didn’t matter what dimension it was, the intelligent inhabitants there would always bend to the will of a greater demon that imposed itself upon them. And that was all they had ever done. All Lkrak had ever done, and it was bored. It wanted more.

It wanted something new. 

Now, trudging through these godforsaken mines for the umpteenth day in a row with company it did not want, Leviathan wondered if perhaps it should have listened to that friend. Perhaps it still should have gone by its old name, its true name, and inflicted itself upon the humans and their ilk in the same way its kin did. It was boring, but it was safe. And it never ended in fear or heartbreak. Not like this. Not like the idea of finding Teddy dead. Their connection was weak, and whatever the crystals had done to the once-human child were sapping the energy and strength from Leviathan as well, leaving it quite short-tempered and humorless. So, the girl’s quip was met with nothing more than a narrow-eyed stare and a shake of its head. 

It glanced between the pair as they spoke, making a contextual note that Nora had evidently touched the crystals herself, but appeared fine now. Good. If she was fine, then Teddy would also be fine. If they found them. Which… the demon’s gaze snapped back to Emilio, features settled into an unfriendly frown. How much longer had the PI known about Teddy’s affliction? Long enough to do something, but also long enough to hesitate, clearly. Otherwise he wouldn’t feel so much guilt over it. The thought of it made Leviathan irate, but there was no time for that now. 

“I’ll keep trying to reach out to them,” Leviathan muttered. “Maybe if we get close enough it’ll work. Maybe. Or maybe I’ll just fucking keel over, who knows.” It wanted to yell at the detective, but held its tongue. Yelling sounded exhausting right now, and this hike through the mines was tiring enough on its own. Conserve energy. Don’t fight about it. Not yet. 

—

He could feel Levi looking at him, gaze boring into the back of his head. He could hardly blame the demon for its anger. If their roles were reversed, if it were Flora down in the depths somewhere, hurting and alone any maybe too far gone to save and Levi had let her get that way, Emilio wouldn’t have had the strength to bite his tongue. He would have lashed out the same way he’d been doing since her death, would have let his endless rage swallow them both up. Maybe part of him was hoping for Levi to do just that. He wasn’t entirely sure it wouldn’t, depending on what they found in this mine. If they found Teddy as a corpse, Emilio figured he’d meet a swift end. He couldn’t bring himself to dread it. It was probably what he deserved.

He just hoped the demon wouldn’t let his rage extend to Nora. She’d done nothing wrong, had probably done more for Teddy than Emilio had given their time together in the mines. It wasn’t Nora’s fault she’d been dragged into all this; Emilio wouldn’t have even invited her along if he hadn’t known she’d be angry with him otherwise. She deserved closure in all this, too. Maybe more than any of them.

“Good,” he said when she spoke, relieved that she wasn’t planning on taking back the affliction. He knew she missed it; he wasn’t sure he understood, but he could still tell. She’d lost something, and he might not be able to comprehend just what it was she’d lost but he did understand the feeling of it. The terrifying, nauseating flailing that came along with losing your grip, the way your gut clenched with the freefall. Loss always hurt, no matter what it was. Emilio knew better than most.

He just hoped they wouldn’t witness Levi in mourning today. The detective’s thumb fiddled absently with the ring on his finger, and he nodded as Levi spoke. “If you get their attention, do you think you can draw them out? We can get this shit on them, cure them of the crystals, but we need them… in the open. There’s a lot of, uh… area to cover, and I don’t think they’re going to like it.” The crystals got into people’s heads, from what he could tell. Made them want what had been ‘given’ to them, made them want to keep people in the mines. If they failed to cure Teddy completely, and if Teddy was in good enough shape to protest, Emilio doubted any of them would get out of here.

So they’d just have to make sure they didn’t fail. 

“Try not to. Keel over, I mean. Might need you.” He didn’t know if he was kidding or not. Everything felt just as dulled as it had for days now, ever since that barnyard basement. Emilio continued to trudge forward, hoping Levi might find some success either in bringing Teddy to them or in leading them to the demon.

—

Maybe a place like this wasn’t a home for them. Maybe the horrors that gripped this town were too many for a half-demon still growing into their own with only three decades of experience behind them. Leviathan could handle whatever absurdities the universe decided to throw at it, but Teddy? In the eyes of the universe, Teddy was still a child. An infant. Barely a fucking twinkle in his blood-relative’s eyes. Perhaps it had been a poor decision to set them up in Wicked’s Rest. Leviathan didn’t often make those, but when it did, they tended to be spectacular. This felt pretty spectacular. 

Some part of it railed against the emotions that were caught in its breast, reminding it that Teddy was merely a project. A curiosity much like the ones in the shop, fashioned and cared for just to see what would happen. Well, here was what happened. Chaos. Not a total loss, all things considered, but… but still. The part of the greater demon that had connected with the child, that had taken on some of their humanity in exchange for power, that part wanted to see this through and see Teddy returned home, safe and unharmed. As unlikely as that was, that was what it wanted. Right? 

“Uh huh,” was all it said, bitter and upset. It might need to shift, is what it was hearing. Either to restrain or to help administer the cure faster. Probably the former. As they continued down deeper into the mines, following the vague direction that Emilio had seen Teddy take off in, Leviathan felt something stirring. 

“Hang on,” it breathed, coming to a halt. It was pushing its voice outward, much like it did when in a seaworthy body, reaching for Teddy’s mind. Teddy. It’s me. I need you to come to me. I know you’re hurt, but I’m here to help. I’m going to make you feel better. It slowly began to advance again, careful to make sure that that tug it was feeling on its mind was growing stronger and not fainter. Come on, Tadpole. Come out of wherever you’re hiding and let papa help. It was glad, in that moment, that the other two could not hear the affectionate way it tried to conjure the young demon—any misconceptions about its ability to perform this task under emotional duress would not be tolerated. 

But there wasn’t the slightest flicker of movement from the beast it was calling to save for its own steady advancement and it sighed. And even worse still, there was no telling how far away from them Teddy actually was, or if they were in a place that was even accessible to two presumed-humans. 

“Okay. I can feel them, but I have a new plan. We’re gonna bring ‘em here,” Leviathan announced, trying to shake off the pain and fatigue that still clung to it, a result of whatever it was that Teddy was going through. It quickly rifled through the leather satchel that hung at its side, retrieving some chalk and, wouldn’t you know it, tealight candles. The cavern they were in was big enough, it figured, and it started to draw a summoning circle on the stone floor with the chalk after setting the satchel aside.

“Light those counter clockwise,” it said to Nora, pointing at one of the candles. “Start with that one.” It shoved a hand in its pocket to retrieve a lighter that it then tossed to her. That done, its attention fell on Emilio. “You have a knife on you, I presume? Give it to me.” 

—

The Leviathan called, the darkness stirred. Passages and pathways below. Far enough away that the connection was still muddled. Like it had to slink through stinking silt rather than the clear waters of the abyss. Tadpole. That was Teddy, wasn’t it? That was– No the world above did not matter… But– 

A warring faction began to brew once more. Two storm fronts colliding with catastrophic collateral. The crystals had gained so much ground, they had wormed their way in and around so much of the demon. Roots choking out the life of the land. The wound on its side was closed over only by the crystalline growths, plating the creature with an armor made from the stuff. It remained un-lit though, as if to conserve that energy for the apotheosis when the giant beast would fully belong to the caverns, to the mines. 

Still the voice persisted. Coming in waves, swirling around what was left of the demon’s mind. Images of long past comforts cradled their consciousness. Weren’t those arms always there to protect? To hold? Hadn’t that heart shown so brightly every time Teddy found themselves in danger. Was this danger? The world seemed to tilt on its axis, threatening to dump Ted headlong off the planet. The crystals were growing agitated, if that was even something they could do. The more the demon fought them, the more it seemed they wanted to evict Teddy’s consciousness from the body all together. 

But this body had rules tied to it. Things that wouldn��t just go away if the host had been pushed out. Things not yet tested, but ancient and powerful all the same. More powerful than the siren call of the mines. More powerful than the transformation that had taken place there. Teddy writhed in their dark pool as something began to tug at them. As a flicker of feeling burst through the pain and the artificial parasitic numbness that was attempting to quell it. Dad. The call was more than a suggestion now, the feeling of reversed gravity much more literal. 

—

As the candles were lit, Leviathan took the knife and held out an arm, dragging the blade from wrist to elbow. It didn’t need to go deep, but the flow needed to be substantial. Which was unfortunate, all things considered, and also why you typically wanted to harvest these sorts of things in small doses well before the performing of the ritual. 

Or it could have shifted and used the gore that remained from this body, but shifting was going to be a last ditch effort. It was never fun, and it took a great deal of energy—energy that Leviathan simply did not have at the moment, thanks to whatever the fuck kind of trouble its child had gotten into. One thing was made very clear to the greater demon—its efforts to find a non-lethal way to break the connection between them was becoming more and more of a priority, now that the child was old enough to go out and get themself into situations like this. The experiment had gone on long enough, and Leviathan was losing patience with this tether. It cared for Teddy, but at its core, it was still a demon, and still ultimately self-serving. 

Clenching and unclenching its fist to drip the offering of blood onto the pentagram. Leviathan began to speak. It wasn’t in English, and it wouldn’t be in any tongue that the others knew—this language was almost as old as Lkrak’Oaazhir itself, and it helped a great deal in making sure the ritual was both successful and expedient. 

—

Something began to open on the ceiling of the cavern above Teddy. A crack, filtering light through from a much more open cave. Breath sped up and caught in the demon’s throat. The spot on the stone became an all consuming fixation. With considerable effort the beast uprighted itself. Never blinking or taking its many eyes off the widening unnatural fissure. Words were pouring through it. Seeping out of the crack in space like a deadly gas filling up the chamber. Except this was a neurotoxin only suited for directing the lesser demon, driving it upwards to the summoning circle. 

Up several thousand feet, in the open cavern where the trio laid their trap; the chalk outlines began to shift. The air in the room hissed, as a pressure differential evened out. As the cracks grew wider and something began to make its way through. Claws, sharp, crystalline, and deadly scraped their way through the tiny openings. Ripped it wider until the whole portal was a gaping maw in the ground, one that Teddy eagerly and angrily burst through. 

— 

He knew better than to respond with a dry remark as Levi dolled out instructions. Maybe if the situation were different, he would have. If it weren’t a parent trying desperately to save their child, if he didn’t feel partially responsible for the mess Teddy was in, if Nora weren’t here to witness it, if he didn’t want, desperately, to see this through to the end… his characteristic dry humor might have come through, just as it always did at the worst time, in the worst moment. But right now? Right now, Emilio was wholly focused on the task at hand. He still wasn’t sure what Levi’s plans were when this was over. He didn’t even know if Levi was sure what those plans might hold for the hunter who’d fucked up his kid’s life to this extent. But he knew enough to know that this might very well be the last thing he did.

So he might as well do it right.

He let Nora get to work on the candles, passed a knife over to Levi without asking what it was for. He watched the ritual in a quiet trance, half present and half not. (It was like that a lot, these days; especially after the barn. Emilio only ever felt half alive, and even that was on his best days. This wasn’t one of his best days.)

It was clear that the ritual was doing something. The mines trembled around them, the rocks shaking in time with Emilio’s quivering hands. He shoved them into his pockets, digging his fingernails into his palms as he clenched them into tight, desperate fists. The runes Levi had drawn on the floor began to glow, not unlike the ones Teddy had put on the floor of Emilio’s apartment when they’d come over for dinner with fucking Gabagool. The quiet afternoon felt like something that happened in a dream a million years ago now. It was hard to grasp the comfortable sense of it when so much was happening around him.

Then, the ground seemed to open up. Emilio took a step backwards, throwing out an arm in front of Nora to keep her back. She’d be curious; she was always curious. It was one of the things he liked most about her. It was also one of the things that terrified him the most about her. (Flora had been curious. It kept him up, sometimes, wondering how much that had come into play in the end. He thought he’d spend whatever was left of his life grappling with all the things about that day that he’d never get to know.)

A shape clawed its way out of the stone, and Emilio recognized it. Teddy looked to be in even worse shape than they had days prior, when they’d left Emilio and Nora alone in that mine shaft in some uncertain attempt at protection. Guilt clawed at his throat. He should have found them sooner. They should have done this sooner. 

The demon was clearly pissed, though Emilio wasn’t sure how much of that was genuinely Teddy and how much was the anger that came with pain. He liked to think it was largely the latter, but that stubborn guilt in his mind insisted that at least some of it must be for him. Rage that he’d failed, rage that he’d come back. Rage that he’d brought as much of the same acid that had caused this shit as he could find, desperate to fix something that Teddy might not want fixed.

“We need to get this shit on them,” he said, half-yelling to be heard over the raging demon. “Anywhere where there’s crystals. Nora… try talking to them. You were in here with them before.” They’d respond better to Nora or Levi than they would to Emilio, he suspected, but they might need Levi to shift at any moment, and Emilio didn’t know how talking worked when you were in demon form. Teddy had spoken in his head before, but would Levi doing that do anything for Teddy in this form? Emilio mused, again, on just how little he really knew about this shit.

—

This should have been one of Nora's happiest days. Nora's official first demon summoning. Hadn't she tried for years to summon a demon with no success? And now they were summoning a demon in the mines. One that she knew and wanted to help. Nora caught the lighter easily, flicking it alight, and started lighting the candles. Later the lighter would slip its way into her pocket with the collection of other stolen lighters that hung out there. Nora, at all times, was waiting for her opportunity for arson. More quips worked their way around her mind, things that a Nora who wasn't filled to the brim with rage, jaw locked from the intensity of her hatred for the mines, might have worked into being. What does Buff Jesus know about summoning Satan, being one of them. 

Buff Jesus - Nora was refusing to call him Chuck in her mind, who went by the name Chuck? - apparently knew a lot about summoning. The rocks and the caverns shifted around them, hell was open but hell had always been the mines. Time, the metronome of life, sped as the action began. Teddy appeared, demonic and brilliant in their form. But hadn't Teddy been more brilliant before the crystals speckled their skin and changed their coloring? Nora watched with wide-eyed fascination as they crawled through the chalk circle and into their presence. 

An arm shot in front of her, one she recognized as Emilio’s. It'd done an effective job of keeping her from walking forward. Nora had been about to step forward to Teddy. Aware that the mines were a distortion on the mind, but fearless, she had been willing to walk straight to Teddy. Anger was a choir that sang from her favorite demon, vibrating through all the crystals in them. Nora could barely hear Emilio talking, her eyes transfixed on Teddy. Teddy was alive and Teddy was saveable. They could fix this. They could free them. 

Talk to Teddy. Nora could do that. The ground felt unsteady under Nora, thanks to the seismic activity that was a demon's anger. "Teddathan." The first word Nora had said in a while came out a dry muffled noise, swallowed in the back of her throat. "Teddathan." Her voice had raised, calling out and echoing against rock and crystal. "We're safe in the mines. You don't need to be angry." The words were acid on her lips, burning her throat and cutting her mouth. "Teddy, look I brought someone else. Chuck. A friend for us. And Emilio said he wouldn't leave." The memories of who the mines had wanted her to be were a vision so palpable. It had been a happier version of herself. One obsessed with bringing everyone she liked into one setting to get the perfect family that only Hallmark movies knew about. 

"Teddathan! Isn't that great news?" She'd walked forward with each statement. Fearless as always. Finally, she reached the demon and placed a hand on one of their legs. Please look at me. The hand said. Please don't look at what the others are doing. Because they are going to fix you, as long as you look at me. "Just like we wanted. There are too many rocks in our old cavern. I think we'll have to find a new one. Wouldn't that be fun? We could look together." 

—

As the ground cracked and shifted, Leviathan took a few steps back to make room. The girl called Nora was speaking to Teddy and walking their way. Probably wasn’t smart, but Leviathan didn’t care much if she was eaten or not. Emilio was handing it some repurposed honey jars, and the demon looked down at them in its hands with a frown. This was not… ideal. But it was what it was. And Leviathan would rather the child not die. 

Doing as Emilio did and rounding the other side of the beast, Leviathan unscrewed the first jar, the others having found a home in its satchel. Listen to the girl, it said to Teddy. We’re here to help.

And with that, the first batch of crystals that grew from Teddy’s body were doused in acid.

—

Heavy arms flexed and pulled until the entirety of the crystalline demon was out of the portal. Once more the room shivered and shuddered as the gap in space stitched itself back together. Knocking over several candles and even a stalactite or two in the process. Despite the calling, despite who called, the smallest figure in the cavern seemed to have the greatest pull on the creature’s many eyed attention. 

Where it should have found a kindred closeness, something cherished, it instead saw a child who had shed her protective shroud. The gifts the crystals had given her. Far too much of its true mind was buried underneath clusters and clasts of the glowing purple mineral to notice that this was a good thing. The many minds of the damned, dead and gone beneath Bleak Point, rallied against this. All manner of reviled and offended by this apparent choice. 

Even if her words said otherwise. Nora was going on about being together. About bringing the others in as well, but her blessings were gone. 

A growl ground out between the demon’s teeth. It began to attempt speech but that was cut off by a searing pain that sent shocks through each and every crystal attached to the beast’s body. They sang in unison, a crying chorus of rage and suffering. Teddy’s tail whipped around, colliding into Emilio’s whole torso with a hearty ‘thuck’. Sending the slayer flying several feet into the air and a good ten yards back. A screech of rock on rock exploded through the cavern as the plastered minerals began to slough off the demon. 

All focus shifted to the thrower. The summoner. The one who tried to talk over the crystals in Teddy’s head. What care did they have that the shape before them had saved it as a child. Molded it into what it was now. That the crystal’s sea monster soldier was only possible because of Chuck Jones. Nora was knocked back, not nearly as far as Emilio and with much less intention, as the demon turned. A byproduct of its massive body filling most of the cavern around them. Face to face with Leviathan, but its human form. The crystals had blocked so much out from the tempestuous demon they inhabited that they didn’t even know this wasn’t Levi’s only shape. They, incorrectly, assumed a baring of teeth and roar would be intimidating. To anyone else? Maybe. Maybe. 

But that was Teddy’s father.

— 

Nora was talking to Teddy, and while Emilio tensed as she approached the massive form, he had to let himself trust that Teddy still wouldn’t hurt her. They were in pain, they weren’t themself, but they were still in there somewhere. And the Teddy Emilio knew — the one he bickered with constantly, the one who drove him out of his goddamn skull, the one he wanted to toss off a roof on purpose some days — wouldn’t do a thing to hurt Nora. He knew that.

So maybe he let his guard down, just a little. He let Levi take one side while he took the other, pouring the acid from the honey jar on every inch of crystal-encrusted skin he came across. But, just like they had in the boat the first day Emilio found Teddy all out of sorts, those damn crystals fought back.

It was funny — with the size of Ted’s tail, he should have seen it coming long before it hit him. But the hunter was so wholly focused on the task of dousing those crystals with acid that he didn’t see the approaching threat until it sent him flying backwards, slamming hard into the wall of the mine. It knocked the wind out of him, sent black spots dancing in front of his vision. His shoulder, the one that had been fucked since the barn and hadn’t been given the chance to rest long enough to fully heal since, screamed at the sudden abuse. The wound had been working on scabbing, but he felt it open all over again, blood soaking through his shirt. 

Ah, well. The material was black, anyway. Nobody’d notice the stain.

Emilio lay on his back for a moment, letting the pain wash over him. But only for a moment. 

A heartbeat passed, and he was pushing himself back into a sitting position, then clawing his way into a standing one. Teddy knocked Nora. They turned to the Leviathan. They screeched, they bore their teeth. Emilio grabbed one of the jars of honey, taking off the lid. Not many crystals left to diffuse now. Not much left to do. If he did this right, he could end it.

If he did this wrong, one of these two demons was definitely going to eat him. Jury was out on which.

One shot. For all the goddamn marbles. 

Drawing his arm back, the slayer threw the jar. It flipped in the air, acid raining down on the demon. He hoped it’d be enough.

—

Teddy was fighting for their crystal life. There was growling and tail slapping. Emilio went flying. Nora was positive flying was not in the slayer handbook of things they could do, but that wasn’t something to worry about now. Nora knew Emilio would be fine, in the same way she knew he was trustworthy. It was Emilio.

Teddy’s movement knocked Nora to the side. It wasn’t a harmful action, and Nora knew Teddy was still in there because of it. Nora stumbled backwards, on uneven ground. “Teddy, please we can’t all live down here if you cause a cave in.” Nora’s fingers fumbled in her pockets as she spoke. Nora spoke because she had been told to talk, that was the job she had been trusted with. The words were weighted in her mouth, tiny anvils dropping on the ground between the two of them. Nora opened the few jars of acid she had, and joined in throwing, hitting the leg she’d been standing near and dissolving the creatures, before skittering backwards. She knew firsthand how much the acid bath could hurt.

Away, Nora was in the perfect position to see acid raining down on them. A perfect throw from Emilio, that covered the demons’ back, dissolving crystals and eating away at the infection that was the control this fucking mine had over them. “Teddy?” The word was tentative, it was questioning, it was hopeful. Because Nora wanted them to answer in their demonic way, and say they were okay. That the mines had freed them. That the mines were the problem, and they could all leave and go get something to eat and be happy. Because Teddy had to be okay.

—

The last of the jars were quickly used as Teddy began to round on Leviathan, until nothing stood between it and the demon-infected human it had done this to. Perhaps Emilio had been right, after all. Perhaps experimenting on them hadn’t been a wise choice. But when had Leviathan ever made decisions that were not impulsive? It didn’t have the patience for thinking through the possible complications or ramifications of its actions, which normally only resulted in a few deaths. Nothing terrible. But this? 

It stood still as Teddy roared in its face, scowl still set firmly in its expression. Good try, it reached out, gaze flicking upward as it saw the final jar come sailing through the air, dumping the last of the acid on Teddy’s back. The reaction was violent and pained, which was to be expected, though it was not something that brought a smile to the demon’s face. Had it been anyone else… 

Come on back, tadpole.

—

Flickers of light popped through the endless darkness. Had they been sleeping? No, no you didn't feel pain quite this brightly while you slept. There was always some film of distance between you and the phantom experience. This was intense. This was fucking awful. That's the thing about being burned alive by acid, pretty much everyone would agree it was not a pleasant experience. 

Come on back, tadpole.

Teddy reeled in their mind, one that was slowly, slowly coming back to the forefront of the creature that writhed and shook as the acid did what it was supposed to. As it melted and dislodged the crystal growths, each leaving more and more of the demon's flesh open and weeping. The poor thing looked like someone took a car sized shotgun to an unsuspecting dinosaur. Pocked and peppered with holes, a litany of purple detritus surrounding it. The beast screamed again but this time something else came through. 

Come on back, tadpole. 

It wasn't the only voice calling out to them either. Nora was trying, fuck, Nora was cured and was trying to calm them. Teddy's heart could have fuckin flown to Greece on joy alone. It was enough to push them through the pain caused by the– the third figure. Emilio??? As presence of mind seeped back in, so did confusion and something else but in the cacophony of emotions and sensations it might have been lost. 

The demon shuddered, it needed to get out of this skin. Needed to come back. Just like Papa said. It wasn't like the holy oil, Teddy thought, the worst of the damage would stay with this husk. The great beast began a new sort of pained dance. Rolling onto its back as it stilled. Any bright spots of teal paled and dimmed. The eyes rolled back in their sockets until the entire thing went limp. Normally it wasn't this graphic, normally the beast melted away. Not this time. There was too much, and Teddy had to consciously work with whatever they had left just to bring them back to normal. 

The flesh around the sea beast's stomach began to stretch and bulge, almost reminiscent of the scene a week or so ago. Except this time, instead of a half melted volmugger seeping through, two blue hands weakly pulled at the freshly grown skin. Like a baby performing its own goddamn c-section. Teddy emerged from the carcass. Flopping to the floor. 

Footsteps rushed up, three people surrounded the small and shaking form. Far different from anything Teddy had allowed Leviathan to see before. But one face in particular stood out in front. Maybe he'd just been closest. Maybe it was luck. But Emilio fucking Cortez was the first thing Teddy saw when they opened their eyes. An overwhelming rush of relief pushed the demon forward, they threw their arms around the detective and planted a big kiss on the man's cheek before realizing what the fuck they had just done. 

In a moment of sheer panic and delirium, Teddy turned, and performed the exact same maneuver on both Nora and Levi, then promptly and quietly, passed the fuck out. 

[mortemoppetere]

@faustianbroker from here:

[pm] Did I say anything about dying? I mean I will not always be here, in this dimension. [...] I have been away from home for too long.

​[pm] What? [...] So, what, you're leaving your fucking kid? You turn them into something else, then you just fuck off?

[deathsplaything]

[pm] Clock's ticking, Renaldo. You agreed to five in four week's time, and we're coming up on the fourth Friday. I don't need to remind you of the consequences of not meeting your quota, do I? It's all there in writing.

[pm] I'm sure Renaldo would be quaking in his boots if he received this message. Funnily enough, you've got the wrong person. My name's Alistair, not Renaldo. Though I wish you best of luck on getting what you want out of this man.

[canis-or-cannotis-lycaon]

[pm] We need to talk.

[User let this sit for a while]

[pm] Are you dead-- I saw you EXPLODE--

Yeah? Did you-- Are you better from your... literal bloodbath that night? Are you even the same person?

[alan-duarte]

TIMING: 16th of April LOCATION: Mephisto’s Repository PARTIES: Levi @faustianbroker & Alan @alan-duarte SUMMARY: Alan comes looking for antiques and though he knocked on the right door, maybe Levi will have more to offer than one should have. CONTENT WARNINGS: n/a

If he had ever been the type to do the bare minimum, he probably would have covered the house with lobster themed antiques, mixed modern art from local artists with naval and fishing inspired pieces, giving it all a completely fabricated New England look. It was what his purchaser wanted : a fully furnished summer house with an authentic flair to it. Alan said he would deliver, and with one employee on maternity leave (bless her), and another off to pick up his kids from school, he figured it was best if he did it all by himself. The largest pieces of furniture were ordered from his usual place, but when it came to decor, Alan thought he’d take advantage of his coffee break to take a look at what the town had in store. He’d never stepped into that antique store. It seemed a bit grim, and he didn’t really need clutter on his shelves. Tossing his near empty cup into a nearby bin, Alan gave a look at the front once again. It was grim but he was also intrigued and when his curiosity was piqued, there wasn’t much that could stop him. Pushing the door open, Alan glanced up and down the shelves, only to notice that they were packed and that by some miracle, the owner had managed to fit so many things on them without making it all fall to the ground. If he didn’t find what he wanted here, he wasn’t sure where else he would find it. “Hello?” He called out, keeping his hands to his sides to keep himself from bumping into anything as he made his way toward the counter.

—

A twenty-something, twiggy young man at the checkout counter perked up when he heard the door open. It’d been a slow day, if you didn’t count what was going on in the back room. But there were no more appointments for the day, so this one was just a normie. Pushing thickly-lensed glasses back up the bridge of his nose from where they’d slipped as he hunched over a peculiar looking… stopwatch, maybe, he broke into a grin as the stranger made his way to the counter. 

Sliding off of his stool and extending a hand over the counter, the boy seemed eager to please. “Afternoon, sir! I’m Ichabod, how can I hel—” His gaze flicked over to the red door to his right before the stranger could answer, the creak of the turning handle sending a familiar thrill up his spine. He drew in a sharp breath, seemingly about to finish his thought, but held the pause as two figures emerged from the dark room. 

A woman, mid-thirties. Black hair, lovely green eyes that were brimming with tears, and a smile that’d knock you on your ass. Behind her, a tall, imposing sort of figure. Brown hair and auburn beard, impossibly broad shoulders, and a calm composure that begged you to listen to whatever he had to say. The woman turned to face the man, letting out a shaky laugh and bracing her hand against one of those large arms. “Thank you so much,” she breathed, sounding terribly relieved about something. The man just smiled, gave her a nod, and watched her go. His attention slid over to the other two in the shop, who had until this point gone unnoticed. Ichabod, in all his awkward gangliness, and… ah. Hm. 

The man strode forward, brandishing another wide smile. Ichabod retracted his hand and shrank back meekly, though he didn’t seem afraid. The man—the owner—offered his own hand to shake. 

“Well met, friend, well met,” he said in a smooth tone, shaking the stranger’s hand. “I’m Chuck, the owner of this fine establishment. Was there something I could help you with?” Ichabod went back to his tinkering, adjusting his glasses again and sparing a brief glance between the two.

—

Ichabod. He’d heard this name once in his whole life, twice now. The last time had been in English class, and if he had paid more attention, he could have been amused with this man’s appearance mirroring that of the scarecrow-like features of Irving’s character. Alan opened his mouth to reply, when the other trailed off, falling silent. It was rather odd, as Ichabod was simply doing his job, and the werewolf took note of that with a raise of his eyebrow (he’d never been too good at masking how he felt, which sometimes led to trouble). 

His eyes followed the pair and he figured the shopkeeper would start talking again once they’d both be gone. He wasn’t aware, all those years, that antiques were a matter as secretive as this. Yet, his overzealous companion remained quiet and the tall man returned to the back of the shop, which would be when Alan decided it was time to let his gaze stray to his surroundings : examining the layout of the place, he was getting intrigued already with what could possibly be behind that door. 

The wide smile wasn’t lost on Alan, who returned it with a commercial smile of his own as he exclaimed himself with something akin to disbelief :  “You don’t say,” putting  his hand over their joined ones, the werewolf raised his eyebrows. “Takes one to know one, I suppose,” letting go, he sank them into his pockets, shifting on his heels to look at what mostly seemed like spooky worthless junk to him. “I’m in real estate.” Beat. “Duarte’s? My enterprise is not far from the Commons, on Main Street?” Impossible to miss, it was in the corner of a busy intersection. 

“Either way, I have a client who wants authentic local  pieces in his house, and I don’t see a better place than your establishment to get precisely what they ask for,” trouble. They asked for fucking trouble. 

—

Those deep brown eyes alighted at the mention of the business across town, their corners crinkling in a more genuine expression of pleasure. "The Alan Duarte? Pleasure's all mine, then." A man such as himself could surely have use for Leviathan's abilities, but best not to press that just yet. 

"Ahh, if authenticity is what you're after, you've come to the right place." He motioned to a nearby shelf, indicating that Alan should follow. “Now we have a lot of items from all across the globe, of course, but this section here?” There was a small sign attached to the top front of the doorless, shelved wardrobe that read ‘Buy Local!’ “One hundred percent collected from this very state. Very authentic. This right here is a sample of water from the Sabattus Well.” It was a shockingly intricate piece of glasswork, formed to look like the well itself with the water visibly resting at the bottom, sealed up tidily within the glass itself. “You know the story of that well? Kid got lowered down into it and went crazy. Hair turned white and all, like he’d aged eighty years in two minutes. They say that if you let the water from the well touch your bare skin, you’ll suffer the same fate.” The shelf was full of a wide variety of objects, some that would make better decorations than others, but–”All of these, if any of them catch your fancy, are excellent conversation starters. And if you’re looking for anything larger, we keep the big stuff in the back.” 

—

“Oh boy, I don’t wanna know what you heard about me,” with light laughter, Alan tagged along. He was quite curious to hear what the other man had heard about him, although considering he had more pleased customers than he did unjustified haters, Alan couldn’t be less worried about it. Peace of mind certainly had a price, but the realtor certainly had the wallet to buy that.

Now, as far as this well was concerned, Alan wasn’t sure where to place the ratio between worth and eccentricity. The weirder the antique, the higher the price, right?

While the shop owner described what the well supposedly could do, Alan wondered whether that could actually be true. Ever since he had been bitten, he tried not to question too much any of the stories he heard. The chances that those were real were higher than reason would have it be. “Do you think that’s a true story?” He glanced up at the other man, as if he expected to find an answer on his face. He’d have made a shitty interrogator for the army, this was for sure. He could convince people to give him what he wanted but reading people? That was a whole other story. 

And though he was certain not every object on those shelves were cursed, he preferred to point toward them instead of touching them. “What about that one?” It was rather simple looking. A perfectly polished orb, which seemed to be made of stone, although Alan would have been unable to tell what kind. He was rather well versed in minerals used for construction, but that didn’t cover all of the variety that was available on the planet, far from it. At the mention of stuff, the werewolf’s curiosity was piqued, and his attention turned away from the orb. “Perhaps that would be best. A statement piece would most likely please my clients,” he agreed.

—

“Nothing bad, I assure you,” Chuck assured him. As he held the glass piece in his hands and Alan asked if he believed the story, the demon grinned. “Of course I do, Mr. Duarte. I’ve seen enough in my time to know better than to question that sort of folklore. I know what it is to be jaded by shops like this one—it’s usually con artists hawking cheaply made replicas, hoping to make a quick buck. But everything you see here? As real as the stardust that molded my handsome ass.” The charming smile slipped into a more charming smirk, but the owner left it at that for now.

Setting the glass piece back down behind its placard, Chuck nodded at the orb that Alan was pointing at. “Ah, that… is facing backwards, first of all.” He reached out and spun the black orb around, revealing a brightly glimmering geode face that had been filled in with glass to create an intact sphere, but still allowed the rainbow-hued gems to reflect the light beautifully. “This is one of my favorites. Bit of a volmugger’s head, expertly crafted into this eye-pleasing centerpiece.” He paused. “You.. know what a volmugger is, right?” That winning smile broadened in genuine delight. “Face stealers. It’s fascinating.”

Glancing toward the rear of the store, Chuck nodded. “Yeah, we can head that way if that’s more what you’re after.” Retrieving a small cloth from his pocket, he used it to briefly polish the orb, then looked to Alan. “You know, I’ve been in this town for a couple years now. Kind of shocked  we didn’t run into each other before now. You keep to yourself mostly, or do I just have terrible timing?” The implication being that Chuck was often out on the town, carousing with the locals, which was absolutely the truth. The pair moved for the red door that Chuck had come out of earlier, but the demon paused before opening it. 

“Gabagool, sweetheart, we’ve got company. Make yourself scarce.” With that said, he opened the door and stepped aside to let Alan pass through first. The room was darkly lit, arranged like a sort of office with a desk and three chairs, one behind and two in front, for… customers? There was a massive filing cabinet in the room, and atop the desk was some paperwork that appeared to be contracts of some sort, freshly signed and ready to be filed away. Something in the corner moved, hidden in the darkness as it shuffled around, but Chuck seemed to pay it no mind as he herded Alan toward the second door opposite them. “Back here’s the storage area. Some of these are too big to fit in the front, y’see.”

—

Nothing bad. Well good. Most of the people upset with him tended to leave town after a bit. There was no proving that the local realtor was responsible for their property being the favored target of a wild animal. For the right price, he could sometimes convince mediums to get a ghost to move in some place. There were more than one ways to silence people, but fear certainly took the prize. “I just try to be cautious,” he paused, “there’s a lot of stories about our town, and some people want to make a quick buck out of those,” selling charms meant to keep vampires away, ‘silver’ that was certainly not nearly pure enough to do anything to a wolf, and lots of knick knacks whose only ability was to grab dust on a shelf. 

“Do I know what a volmugger is?” Absolutely not. “Face stealers,” he repeated. “Thieving is vuelo in spanish. Vuelomueca I suppose that would be close enough,” thief of mug. He scoffed. “Do people end up with a blank canvas for a face? Or do they turn into a face thief themselves?” If he had never heard the name before, and if Alan’s fascination with the lore perhaps came from a place of mischief, he seemed to be completely sold. “That doesn’t sound like something I want to keep on a shelf at home, does it?” His eyes’ corners crinkled with wit, the realtor followed behind, eyebrows raising in agreement as the other wondered how they hadn’t run into one another yet. “I’m trying to expand to the whole South East of Maine, so I’m sometimes out of town, but I will plead guilty to preferring to keep to myself. I’m not the most outgoing,” he had hobbies that didn’t require being with people, and Alan supposed that he’d never really craved to have too many close friends. Sometimes he missed it, and he certainly still missed having someone around (not his second husband, however), but he was busy enough that sometimes was really not happening too often. 

Ichabod, Gabagool. Were those nicknames, or was the owner only hiring people with the weirdest name possible ? Chuck certainly was a very normal, mundane name to have. 

He was thankful for his night vision as the other took him to a dimly lit room. His eyes darted toward the movement in the darkness, but whatever that animal was had vanished before Alan could clearly identify it. Besides, his tall companion was already showing the way to another door, and he decided that if he didn’t see that thing again, it probably wouldn’t matter. “You do have quite the impressive collection of artifacts there,” he agreed, pushing open the door that led to the storage area. 

—

“Blank canvas, you’re right on the money. Doesn’t kill them, per se, but you can imagine the complications that would come from not having any holes in your head anymore.” Throwing the orb a fond glance, Chuck frowned. “No? I think it does. Hells, maybe I’ll finally take this one home with me. Everyone always gets creeped out by it.” 

The storage area was much larger than you’d expect from looking at the front of the shop: Chuck had knocked out a couple walls when he purchased the building, expanding into neighboring spaces. The things that it held weren’t exactly furniture, but rather artworks created out of found materials. They ranged from about the size of a bedside table to things so massive they’d need a flatbed semi to get them loaded up safely. Each was different from the last, strange in its own way, but it seemed that the items back here focused less on doing some weird cursed thing rather than just being bizarre themselves. “Henrietta and Ichabod are the ones that make these, mostly. Could be more what you’re after—conversation starters.” There was an old canoe, broken in half and stood up on its end, overtaken with moss and other plantlife. It was basically an open-air terrarium, with little dioramas here and there of pixies and sprites made from tiny figurines, but they certainly didn’t look cute or jovial. 

I'm

Another one of them looked like a big piece of porous rock, which Chuck insisted had come straight from the Null Impact Crater in Gatlin Fields. “It always feels a little warm to the touch, even when this room is freezing cold,” he explained. The options were many, and the shop owner quietly followed Alan around the space, answering questions as needed.

—

“To be honest? No. It’s quite beautiful, but I don’t personally need it,” he didn’t like knick knacks, what could he say more than that? “I wonder why that is,” tongue in cheek, Alan had glanced up at the owner and followed after him through the shop.

He didn’t expect it to be anywhere near this large in the back. He had a good idea of what real estate offered in the area, and could already tell that some of the town’s business owners would be willing to fight tooth and nail for that kind of storage space but Alan was now too aware of all those legends being true to try and rip off a man who owned a frighteningly high amount of supernaturally sourced tchotchkes. 

Instead, he looked at his surroundings with wonder and awe. "This is amazing," he mumbled, mostly to himself as he approached what looked like a taxidermied wolpertinger with an opal in place of each eyeball, its gaze permanently lost in the distance and eerily inviting. "I guess I just want something they can touch without dying or being cursed, or anything negative. I suppose if they can't accuse me of being responsible for it, it doesn't matter quite as much," he surprised himself to add.

—

“Oh, no need for concern, everything back here is mostly curse free, since the kids handle the pieces to put them together. There’s been the occasional new allergy or loss of hair, but nothing serious.” The salesman offered his companion a grin, nodding at the piece he’d taken an interest in. “Tell you what. Whichever one you think your client will like, I’ll give you half-off. As a good-faith gesture, from businessman to businessman. Always happy to free up more room for more of my employees’ art projects.” 

Truth be told, there were no price tags on these offerings. Chuck more… made them up as he went along, depending on how much he liked the customer. And he liked this customer, so he’d make a good deal for him. 

There was more exploring to be done, but once they’d seen everything in the room at least once, some twice, Chuck turned to Alan and clapped his hands together. “So! What are we thinking, my friend?”

—

“Mostly curse free, huh?” Alan pursed his lips but you could tell he was just trying not to seem too amused by that revelation. How absolutely not reassuring. “Nothing serious, of course,” with a smile, Alan reached out to test the area where feathers met fur on the creature’s forever still body. “I think a meteorite makes quite the conversation starter, and it shows you care about the area even if you’re not…” A supernatural being, he almost added, but instead opted for something less revealing, “I suppose a lot of people have a keen interest for cryptids and those myths.” 

Humming to himself, he nodded, approaching the large piece of blackened minerals to give it a better look. The house he sold was large enough for a statement piece like this one, although he most likely would have to find the local carpenter to build a pedestal fit for it. 

“How shall we proceed? I can pay today and we can find a date for delivering the piece to my client’s house.” 

—

“They certainly do,” Chuck agreed, noticing the slight hesitation in Alan’s sentiment. It was probably nothing, but you could never be too sure around here. Still, it probably wasn’t enough to warrant mentioning.

“Sounds perfect.” He moved over to a small workstation backed up against the wall, grabbing a blank tag and sharpie. On its face, the demon scrawled ‘SOLD’, and on the reverse, Alan’s name. He then hung it off of the pallets that were currently supporting the piece before gesturing for Alan to follow him back to the front. They passed through the small room once more, but whatever creature had been lurking in the darkness was nowhere to be seen, this time. 

Out front, Ichabod rang Alan up for the piece after Chuck gave him the intended price, and they agreed on a delivery date. “The boys and I will deliver it personally to your client’s home, mister Duarte, so you can be certain it’s in good hands,” Chuck assured him with a smile. “If you have any questions, you can reach me at this number.” Rather than grab one of the business cards that sat on the counter, Chuck pulled one from his inner jacket pocket. It was different from the ones left out for customers to take, most notably in the way it only had Chuck’s personal number, rather than the shop phone. That same, strange symbol was still scrawled on the back, though, but he made no mention of it as he passed the card to Alan. “A pleasure doing business with you, sir.”

—

Although Alan took a thorough look around as they excited the backroom, he couldn’t catch a glimpse of that mysterious thing he thought he saw the first time around. Now, he didn’t feel like he had just dreamt it, but the werewolf didn’t care nearly enough to ask about it. To each their secrets and mysteries. Besides, wouldn’t it just result in outing himself as someone who saw and heard more than he should? 

“I expect nothing less,” he smiled back, reaching into his coat for his credit card, crossing his arm over to get a hold of the other’s business card. The symbol caught his eye. He’d seen it at the front, and while he wondered what it represented, he once again decided against asking just yet. “Likewise. And if you need to reach out to me, you know where to find me,” his smile reached up to his eyes, drawing deeper wrinkles there. The pleasantries done, the realtor turned his attention to the shopkeeper, holding out his card for them to grab. It had been quite the odd turn of event although not one Alan was displeased with. Someone who had access to those sorts of artifacts was undeniably an asset, though it didn’t hurt they happened to be kind on the eye. “Have a nice afternoon,” a polite nod, another smile and the businessman was headed out back to his car.