They brought him to Harth even as preperations for the ritual had begun, cleaning out the junk from Zuko's 'stay' and instead, preparing a space for dark ritual
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"You're gonig to escape. And then the do-gooders in the apartment complex will welcome you. You will never return to this magog hive. You will, instead, find a way to slip away. I have... prepared certain thnigs for you... to protect you. You must be careful with them..."
He smiles slightly. "Found on your person, they will assuredly get you killed. Betray me, or use them against me, and I will make your death slow and miserable."
Krycek blinks, head tilting just slightly as he listens.
He looks confused.
... and slightly insulted.
"Harth," he says slowly, leaning foward and staring past the frames of the vampire's glasses, "I understand what you're ask... no, telling me to do. But..."
There's a silence as Krycek ponders how to word the following.
"... I still don't know why you're doing all this. Hell, I don't even know exactly what's going on. I've heard things, but... what's your motive?"
Because really, Krycek needs a reason to be a bastard. Really.
"Because I'm evil. Do I need further reason?" Harth says with a roll of his eyes. Really. "Because I need to eat to live, even if I'm undead. Because I live to cause suffering. Because I told you to and because you will obey me without question, or you will never see the sun again."
Not that he would, even if he got out of the hive. But it was enough of a point, he was sure.
"A hunter's charm, to mask your footsteps and confuse the senses. Wear it only when you come to see me."
He lays it out; it is made of human flesh, bone and touched with blood. "It has a hunter's magic and will not easily be found. Wear it about your wrist when you must come to find me."
"No. Soon, though. We will arrange for your 'escape'. Some other prisoners will get out, too, but none will survive. I suggest you make good on the chaos then." He smirks now, and then says, "no one here will know of your escape--- you were merely taken away as hunting sport and never came back. And there, no one there will know you at all. Do you understand?"
He rises. "Some new prisoners will be moved to your area-- the 'sport kills'. Can you be despondent, nervous, plot, maybe, while they all prepare to be hunted down for the joy of bloodsport...?"
He can smell a traitor. But... the question is, who will be most betrayed in the end?
"You will serve me, then. Be swift, be silent, be stealthy--and you will be reawrded. Fail me..."
He shrugs.
"You'll die. Eventually."
But he glances away. "I want to know who is there. Numbers. Condition of the buildnig. Scavenging. Strength of each man and woman. As detailed as you can make it. I want you to bring me all of this... and anything else you might find... relevants. Major plans. Relationships that might be exploited."
He kneels and perks his ears up.
... wolf? Wrong animal, Harth.
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"Soon, you're going to escape."
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Escaping is good, but here comes the big question:
"What, exactly, do you have planned for me?"
Wolf in sheep's clothing? He can do that!
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He smiles slightly. "Found on your person, they will assuredly get you killed. Betray me, or use them against me, and I will make your death slow and miserable."
Just so they're clear on that.
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He looks confused.
... and slightly insulted.
"Harth," he says slowly, leaning foward and staring past the frames of the vampire's glasses, "I understand what you're ask... no, telling me to do. But..."
There's a silence as Krycek ponders how to word the following.
"... I still don't know why you're doing all this. Hell, I don't even know exactly what's going on. I've heard things, but... what's your motive?"
Because really, Krycek needs a reason to be a bastard. Really.
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Not that he would, even if he got out of the hive. But it was enough of a point, he was sure.
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Yes, and death threats amuse him.
"Alright. I'm on your side."
That's an honest answer.
"What have you prepared for me?"
He resists the urge to add 'O, Master' to that. He'll stop being snarky soon, I promise.
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"A hunter's charm, to mask your footsteps and confuse the senses. Wear it only when you come to see me."
He lays it out; it is made of human flesh, bone and touched with blood. "It has a hunter's magic and will not easily be found. Wear it about your wrist when you must come to find me."
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Krycek stares at it for a moment before reluctantly taking it in his hand.
... cool.
Now, Ratboy looks eager.
And he really can't resist cracking a joke. "Do I wear it on my real arm or my fake one?"
... plz don't kill him.
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Duh, Krycek. Duh.
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Kry was aiming for a smirk or something. Ah, well.
"Right."
There's an awkward silence before he speaks again. "Am I to leave tonight?"
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He rises. "Some new prisoners will be moved to your area-- the 'sport kills'. Can you be despondent, nervous, plot, maybe, while they all prepare to be hunted down for the joy of bloodsport...?"
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"I can do anything you want me to."
He's an excellent actor. Plus, he's pretty much an outcast anyway. It all works out!
He'll make Harth proud.
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He better.
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"I've done this before, the infiltrating thing. Don't worry."
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He can smell a traitor. But... the question is, who will be most betrayed in the end?
"You will serve me, then. Be swift, be silent, be stealthy--and you will be reawrded. Fail me..."
He shrugs.
"You'll die. Eventually."
But he glances away. "I want to know who is there. Numbers. Condition of the buildnig. Scavenging. Strength of each man and woman. As detailed as you can make it. I want you to bring me all of this... and anything else you might find... relevants. Major plans. Relationships that might be exploited."
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