A Curse Upon Thee 3-9B

“Off—!”

“Nope.”

Torture wasn’t exactly as easy as it looked.

Not the pain-causing part, no… Finn was pretty sure he could do that to a monster without caring all that much. No skin off his nose, even if the monster had a habit of squealing like a pathetic chihuahua that had grown a bit past the breed.

It was only the simple fact that actually pulling off the Jack Bauer thing ended up being rather hard when the whole thing mostly felt like wrangling a toddler.

“Off!” Water splashed around the devil’s body, the Mongrel still trying to thrash for freedom as best it could.

“Nuh-uh.” All Finn could offer with that was a stiff click of the tongue as he leaned over, blue eyes still aimed on his target. With just the slightest bit of focus, Cursed Energy flooding his eyes, Finn could see it — the truth of its name and what the thing was.

MONGREL DEVIL : A Starved Mix-Breed
GRADE: SEMI-TWO

Hunger given claws and hands to tear.
Vicious enough to hunt men, too weak to fight monsters.

A scoff left him as those red-black words faded from his vision. Yeah, that’s definitely a toddler all right. A toddler, easily over six feet if it wasn’t seven, that was still watching him from under all that fencing with six different eyes worth of attention spread all over that ugly face.

“Off, off!” It shoved up, the whole panel coming up just a few inches. “Get it—off!”

Finn scoffed, one hand out as he pushed cursed heat into the metal. Fire ran down into the frame instead of the devil, the red turning the edges of it under his fingers. With another high yelp, Mongrel dropped back down into the water with an almost-quiet splash.

“There we go.” The redhead stepped back, legs bending under him as he dropped into a crouch in front of the devil. “Comfy? Hope not.”

“R-rude!”

“...you eat people.”

“Finn!” A splash came from behind him, a noise of pure disgust following with it. “Why is it not dead?”

“Maybe because I’m not done with it, Mal?” He didn’t bother looking back, attention still on the devil inching away from the metal steaming in standing water. “Ever think about that?”

“What is there to be done?” The fairy whined the last syllable, another splash and groan telling Finn she attempted — and regretted — a stomp against the water. “We could be eating right noooow.”

“Mal, it’s barely even noon. You just had breakfast four hours ago.”

“I have standards, Finneas.”

Phineas Connor McHale didn’t bother looking back at the girl who somehow managed to mangle his name in a way he still couldn’t figure out how. Honestly, he blamed that fairy bullshit of hers somehow.

Bullshit or not, he knew she wasn’t joking about the standards bit, either, even if they were more needs in the first place. Again, maybe it was the lack of magic or lack of nature, he really couldn’t be sure but that stuff meant that she had a stomach that already had him committing crimes to feed her growling stomach by their second day in Kyoto. “Soon as I’m done here, we’re getting butaman.”

“Oooohhh…”

Mal’s quiet hum of hunger went quiet as the devil picked up the fight again. "Let… let go.. I'll — I won't—"

"Nuh-uh, we're not doing that part." He leaned in, one eyebrow raised high in the most quizzical expression possible. "Hell."

All that thrashing stopped against the omni-present power of a single syllable, six ears suddenly flat against the thing’s chewed-up skull. Even that small mouth behind those mismatched human teeth were unmoving as the rest of the thing, the Mongred suddenly  still.

Oh, so we do know the word. The grin that cracked his lips almost competed with the Mongrel for how ugly it had to look. "How bout we start with the facts?”

“F-facts?”

“Yeah, Hell.” Finn dragged the word out just a little longer than he had to, tongue running over teeth. “I assume you know it?”

"I go back?”

“...let’s not get ahead of things, okay?” Finn hummed as he pressed down on the metal with his shoe. "First, what's Hell look like?"

"Ffff—" Something clicked in the back of its throat. "Dark."

An eyebrow went high. "Dark?"

"Dark. Dark, dark, all dark and…" The lips pulled outward, all three sets, wide enough for triple tongues to wag with the words. "Red."

"Which one?"

“Red. Red. Very very red."

"Which.” His voice went tight at the double answer. “One."

"Both."

Sure it is. "What about the sky? Any landmarks?"

"Sky?”

“Yeah?” Why is it repeating what I’m saying? Granted, it was pretty stupid, otherwise it wouldn’t have gotten itself caught up in a trap Finn hadn’t even set so… “What? Is it on fire or—”

N-no… no sky." Blue eyes couldn’t help but blink at how fast that answer came his way, the devil’s breathing picking up again for some odd reason. "No sky, only doors."

"Doors."

"Doors, doors, all the doors, everywhere doors."

"What's that mean, all th—"

And then the bastard started laughing at him.

All three mouths joined together in that yappy broken sound, the big jaw doing a hacking wet sound that went on longer that the joke could possibly be worth, head bobbing under steel and taking in more water than it probably should. Six or seven seconds passed him by like that, Finn crouched in a dead works yard being laughed at by a broken dog.

Alright. A hand slapped out, flaring bright with a half-second of flame across the thing’s mangy waterlogged flank. That laughing shifted to a shriek before the devil went quiet again, suddenly willing to listen. “Now, let’s try again. What do you remember? From before you showed up here.”

That question might as well have been spoken in gibberish instead of Japanese because the way the Mongrel answered was pretty much that. Even still, past the nonsense, it was clearly saying something, he could tell that.

Just don’t know what that something is. Not that he couldn’t understand… well, he could understand, but he couldn’t understand understand.

Mostly because he didn’t have a lot of context.

Pain was a big part of it, though.

Pain and blood and a weird sort of hunger that it kept coming back to, over and over, and a lot of hiding too; hiding from things bigger than it in places it couldn’t see.

So it's lying. That was the most obvious option, and most likely the correct one. Doesn’t do much to explain why it keeps throwing in other shit. Finn knew a good liar picked up a story and held it, so this thing was either a bad liar or… Maybe it’s a real memory mangled up in the dog brain?

Both were equally possible.

Maybe even both at the same time.

Let’s try something else then. "Oi, how's a Devil get from here to there?"

"Die."

"Yeah, I mean, duh. I know that, I mean any other way?"

"No."

"...alright." Finn put a hand to his waist, the hilt of his dagger held tight as he made to move forward. No point then.

"YES."

...huh. The redhead stopped, halfway up from a crouch. "Yes, what?"

"Passages." That small mouth was rattling off quick, almost no hesitation like Finn heard before with those tiny panting breaths. "There are passages, there are ways, I have — I know the ways, I have used—"

"He's lying. Lying badly, too. Telling you all you want to here." Mal’s voice made the thing hitch up, half its eyes aimed her way with panic in them. "Look at the creature. A brain might be lacking but three tongues wagging easily take the place of a single deft one.”

“...what?” Finn looked over his shoulder, confusion clear on his face.

“Idiot.” Mal sighed low and long. “He watched your face and now he is feeding you."

"Ohhhh. Yeah, I know that."

The thing yelped again, but Finn paid it no mind as he stared at a blinking Mal.

"Then—"

Finn turned back to the Mongrel. "Where are the passages?"

Mal made a noise like a kettle..

"U-under. They are under us now." The Devil's ears were up high, alertness clear all over the thing. "Under the city. Deep, under, where the water r—"

"You mean…” Finn blinked as he tried to parse the words. "The sewers?”

"Yes."

“Or the tunnels?”

“Yes.”

…alright. Finn took a breath and continued through the bullshit. "How about you tell me where under Kyoto?”

"A shrine."

"A shrine.” In Kyoto, of all places. Underground might have been a clue but looking for a shrine in Kyoto was like sending someone to find a ranch in fucking Texas. “What shrine?”

"Let me stand."

Finn laughed out loud, eyes on a talking dog with a broken arm-leg. “That’s gonna be a no from me.”

"I-if I stand, I say na—"

"You don't have the name."

"I HAVE—"

"You've given me about… what? Four different Hells per minute." He held up four fingers as he went on, even though he had a strong doubt that the thing could count. "It's dark, it's red, there's doors, there's no doors. Something about fucking chainsaws, like okay? Sure, just throw horror movie bits at me next.” His eyes rolled with a sigh loud enough that it rippled the oil-stained water right in front of him. “Now there's a shrine and it's underground at the same time. Let’s be honest here or I’m gonna send you back home." Slaughter Demon edged out of its sheath. “The slow and painful way.”

The Devil went quiet for a second, those mouths suddenly moving as it left behind everything it tried to feed him about places and started talking Devils; Devils that could open the way, ones that could drag people in, old ones, powerful ones, some that could just make those doors do what they said. 

And then it mentioned a last one — a strong one — that knew all the ways outside.

"Outside?” Finn’s head snapped up at that word, eyes narrowed to slits. He aimed those blue daggers down at the Mongrel, common sense giving way to pure hope. “Outside where?"

"Anywhere. Here. Hell, all places no one remembers coming back from." A hard breath was forced out through those wrecked ribs. "Any place you want."

Yeah. Finn's jaw worked slow, teeth bared in a not-grin. There it is.

Because this Devil didn't know where he was from. It had no idea about a well, or a town, or a pretty girl with a little red in her hair that was waiting for him for a month now. 

But the mangy monster knew he wanted a door.

And that was enough.

"How long?” 

Finn bit back a sigh at Mal’s question. "Till it stops giving me anything."

"It has given you nothing so far."

“That’s where you’re wrong, see.” Finn clicked his tongue, finally turning his head to look at the pouting girl with her arms crossed.

Standing there in her boots and her purple lace and a face that was almost always perfectly made up even without any of the normal stuff you’d need for that, Mal was determined to show her displeasure. “Am I wrong?”

"I just said so, yeah. Hell, They remember the place. That's one thing. They come back and they at remember pieces, so it's not a reset. Thing two, on top of that.” He tilted his head over at the pinned thing. "Dying's how they normally cross. Tendo-san said as much and it’s not something they do. It’s something that happens to them. It’s not a new Devil with the same name either because their bodies stay here, which means they have souls or something…”

The smug radiating off him was partly faked, but Finn kept it going anwyway. “So far, that mean I’ve got down memory, the existence of the soul, and continuity. I’m pretty much beating any philosopher that ever was right now." 

"That is—"

"That is three whole things I didn't have this morning, Princess Powerful.” Finn shook his head slow, eyes on her as he kept the grin going. “All the stories have been pretty different, sure, but the shape of the story isn’t doing a lot of changing. You get me?”

The judging look wasn’t all that hidden behind Mal’s sparkling eyes, the girl silent for a few good second. "...when did you get so smart?"

“Tough talk for someone I can distract with food and shiny things, Miss Magpie.”

“Magpie? How dar-!” That pout returned full-force. “I am not easily distracted!”

“Never met anyone easier to distract than y-!”

The Mongrel chose that moment to tear itself free — fencing ripped apart and links torn to metal shreds.

Finn was already moving, Cursed Energy flooding his body and — What? — standing water spraying into his face. A hand went up immediately to wipe his eyes and the Devil tore past him on all three limbs, a blur of motion as the half-bitten head turned all six eyes on the girl in the purple dress.

Shit! Fists clapped together, action taking the place of thought, and red packed itself tight between his knuckles. Teeth grit tight, Finn punched out with a pure fistful of fire.

It caught the Mongrel across the ribs mid-leap, the monster spinning out across the yard, body a jackknife a moment before its smoking hide even touched the ground. Finn was already on it before the Mongrel properly stopped, six steps at most all he needed.

Fire burned bright beneath his feet as he stomped down, heel forcing out a wet crack as something gave. The Mongrel screamed through all three parts of its jaw, those little human lips managing half a word.

It didn't get any more than that as the edge of Slaughter Demon cleared its sheath.

One swing.

Smoke came off the neck, thick and greasy and drifting across the tall weeds as the head of the Mongrel splashed into another puddle. Jesus… Finn stood there — shoulders heaving as he tried to get his breath back into him. By the time he turned back around, Mal still hadn’t moved.

The parasol was still down, the purple girl holding it like a stick as those green-gold eyes stayed firmly on him.

“...butaman time?”

Those same eyes narrowed.

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

The body was still smoking under the tarp in the back of the kei as they drove away from the yard. Mal’s arms were still folded, feet up on the dash, as she refused to look his way.

“...I’m sorry?”

“Butaman and Daifuku!”

A sigh filled the cabin of the tiny truck, Finn’s fingers flexing around the wheel.

"...and daifuku."

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

Constan-tine? – 200 GP
Interrogate a Devil.

ROLL: Unscripted — 600 GP
80s Sword and Sorcery | Benevelone

So many of the villains and heroes here have some well defined destiny. Only the prophesied child can kill the priest-king. The warrior shall found the greatest tribe ever known to these lands. Wouldn’t it suck if you couldn’t act because fate had already decreed who would win and how?

But you are not from this world. You are not part of its skein of fate. As an out of context situation, destiny does not bind you, and fate has no influence on your actions; you can kill the destined hero before his destiny bears fruit, or slay the overlord despite not being the chosen one. You don’t even need to shout about how you reject this reality to substitute your own, though it is encouraged. This protection from fate shields you from prophecy or precognition, and will keep you from having a specific fate written for you by others.

And it’s not just when fate is involved that this capability shows up. Whether it’s de-railing canon events, upsetting the natural order of the world, or just changing the status quo, your actions’ ability to disrupt the natural flow of the world’s events seem to be magnified, helping you to upset the events around you. You can toggle this off or on, if you decide you do not want to upset canon events, or cause social upheaval.

Grimoire Points: 100