[HP/Angel/WoD/DBFS] "In My Time of Dying" (3/6)
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. Vampire: the Masquerade belongs to Mark Rein-Hagen. Angel belongs to Joss Whedon. Dun own nothing. Except Zechiel. And Erin.
Title:: “In My Time of Dying”
Author:: darkjediprinces
Fandom:: Harry Potter/World of Darkness/Angel
Rating:: R/M
Warnings:: Gore
Summary:: It was supposed to be just a night on the town with his friend. It turned into the worst nightmare he’d ever lived.
Characters:: Harry, Beckett, Zechiel, Lucius Malfoy, Erin, Angel, Serena, Olivia, Victoria, Bloodlines minor characters
Pairings:: None.
Timeframe:: 2006
In My Time of Dying
Chapter 3: Lessons
“Oh no,
Here it is again
I need to know
When I will fall in decay
Something wrong
With every plan of my life
I didn’t really notice that you’ve been here”
-“Heaven’s a Lie”, Lacuna Coil
“There is much to learn,” said Beckett, the next evening, “so pay close attention. I would prefer not to have to repeat myself.”
Harry sat quietly and nodded. They were in the same apartment he had woken up in; he assumed that Beckett was living there for the moment.
“There are thirteen Kindred Clans, as I told you yesterday. You and I are from Clan Gangrel. We are wanderers and loners, more in touch with the Beast Within than others.
“All Kindred have a Beast inside of them; it is the source of our hunger, and our power. Make no mistake; it is a monster. When you feed, don’t kill. Killing feeds it. You must cling to your humanity as much as possible. If the Beast takes control of you, it is… a wild animal, desperate, scared, reckless. This is called a Frenzy; keep yourself well-fed and avoid killing innocent Mortals and you avoid Frenzying. Gangrel must be especially careful not to Frenzy, as every time we do it leaves a physical mark on us.”
“What kind of physical mark?”
“It varies. Talons, snouts... animal features.”
Harry flinched. Beckett continued.
“I've already told you about the Ventrue, Tremere, and Malkavians... the other Camarilla clans are the Brujah, Nosferatu, and Toreador. The Brujah are freedom fighters and rebels. The Nosferatu...” He leaned back in his chair, looking thoughtful. “The Nosferatu are physically deformed by the curse of Caine. Simply being seen would be a Masquerade violation. However, they are excellent at stealth and reconnaissance. I've had to go to more than one Nosferatu for information on Zechiel. We may have to visit one again.
“The Toreador are graceful artists, obsessed with beauty in all its forms. They are closer to mortals than any other Clan.
“There are two Clans who ally with the Sabbat; they are the Tzimisce and Lasombra. The Tzimisce are... flesh-crafters.”
“...What?”
“Their primary Disclipline is Viscitude, which allows them to shape and manipulate skin.”
“Ew.”
“Indeed.” Beckett leaned forward at his desk and pulled out one of his many books, flipping through it until he found a certain page. “They like to manipulate their own flesh. Here, like this.” He showed Harry a drawing taking up a full page; the being depicted on it had deformed features, although there was a strange beauty about it.
Beckett went on to describe the rest of the Kindred clans: The Lasombra, shadowmancers who helped to run the Sabbat; the Giovanni, independent necromancers and mobsters; The Ravnos, tricksters and illusionists, and rivals to the Gangrel; the Setites, followers of the Egyptian god Set; and the Assamite, assassins and cannibals. He described the Sabbat and Camarilla in more detail, explaining the Camarilla’s laws and making sure Harry knew it was best to obey them no matter how he felt about the Camarilla itself. He told him about the Anarchs, who still flooded Los Angeles, refusing to give the area to the Camarilla, and the Anarchs’ leader, Nines Rodriguez.
Afterwards, they moved on to Disciplines. Beckett described the Gangrel’s Disciplines, Animalism, Fortitude, and Protean, to Harry and taught him how to use them. Harry picked them up quickly; they came almost instinctively. Afterwards, Harry felt rather woozy, so Beckett took him to find a meal. They ended up ambushing a bum in an alley. Not the healthiest thing for a vampire, but it was better than nothing.
Back at Beckett’s flat, Harry carefully attempted to pick a thread from the bum’s scarf out of his teeth, while Beckett dug through his books.
“So what’s next?” Harry asked.
“Nothing. For now I’ll teach you as situations present themselves. You already know the basics… time for some real-world experience, I’d say.”
“So what do we do?”
“Look for Zechiel, of course. As I said before… we may have to seek out the Nosferatu… Luckily I know exactly where they are… I cannot say the same for Zechiel, unfortunately.”
“Where do the Nosferatu live?”
“In the sewers beneath Hollywood. We will have to go there and present ourselves to Isaac Abrams, the Baron of Hollywood, then, assuming Isaac has nothing he would like us to do to earn his trust, we go to the Warrens and talk to Gary, the Nosferatu Primogen.”
“Why do we have to… present ourselves?”
“It’s an old Kindred tradition. Not many practice the Rite of Presentation anymore but Isaac does. It’s best we do as he asks, or he’ll kick us out.”
“So… to Hollywood?”
Beckett smirked, shutting his book with a snap. “To Hollywood.”
* * *
There was a Kindred thug watching them as they exited the subway. He approached them as soon as they were out on the street.
“Have you been to see Isaac yet?” He demanded, eyeing Harry with some apprehension.
“We were just about to,” Beckett stated. “The jewellery store just past the Asian Theatre, correct?”
The Kindred nodded and let them continue on their way.
“That was one of the Anarchs. He’s Brujah. Likely Isaac’s enforcer,” Beckett said softly. “Most of the Anarchs are Brujah.”
Harry nodded, then asked, hesitantly, “Beckett…”
“Hmm?”
“Why… why do you think Zechiel Embraced me?”
“I’m not one to speculate on others’ state of mind.”
“…Oh.”
“However, I’m relatively certain that his employer did something to displease him. Zechiel is brash, impulsive… It was probably the first thing that came to mind as payback.”
They turned down an alley off of the street they were following. Beckett stopped by a door with a stained-glass window and knocked softly before opening it.
At the back of the store stood a man with grey hair, dressed in a black suit. He raised his eyebrows as Beckett and Harry entered the store, shutting the door behind them.
“The great Beckett,” he stated softly. “What brings you here?”
“The Nosferatu,” Beckett responded succinctly. “They’re still living below your city?”
“Despite my best efforts I can’t get them to budge,” the man, obviously Isaac, returned. “Gary resists me at every turn, and likely because I’m Toreador. You try running a tribe of Ravnos out of your territory, see how far you get. Who’s the whelp?”
Harry did his best to keep from exploding at being called a whelp. Beckett smirked a little.
“This is Harry… he was Embraced illegally by a Sabbat I’m hunting. I took it upon myself to mentor him.”
“The Prince would kill him if he found out.”
“Which is why I don’t plan on telling the Prince.”
Isaac’s mouth twitched. “So I take it you’re attempting to track down Harry’s Sire.”
“Astute.”
“Well then, be my guest. I take it you know how to get there?”
“Follow the sewers.”
“Exactly. Oh, and as for the formalities… I won’t ask you to do anything for me. You’re free to move about.”
“Thank you.” Beckett turned to leave, beckoning Harry to follow.
“Oh, one more thing,” Isaac said. “Gary’s become bolder since the incident with the Ankaran Sarcophagus two years ago. His asking price for whatever information you’re looking for will probably be higher than usual.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Beckett and Harry left, emerging back in the alley. Beckett bent over and removed the nearby manhole cover. Harry flinched.
“Are we really going to take the sewers?”
“Only way to get to them that we know of. Use Eyes of the Beast-I taught that to you earlier-and stay close.” Without a further word, Beckett dropped down the manhole. Harry followed, tumbling out into the foul water with a small grunt. Beckett hoisted Harry to his feet. Harry wrinkled his nose, then closed his eyes and called on the Beast to enhance his sight; the dim tunnel they were in brightened as he opened them again. Beckett sniffed the air, frowning.
“That’s odd…” he said, quietly. “Serena’s been through here recently.”
“…What?”
“As I understand it, she knows of a shortcut to the Nosferatu, but I’ve never had to bring it up before… She wouldn’t take the sewers unless she had to. Which makes it very odd that her scent would be so fresh.”
“You can actually smell her above all the sewage?”
“I’m 300 years old; your senses will get sharper as you age. You were just Embraced three days ago.”
Harry nodded and followed Beckett as he started down the tunnel.
It was going to be a looooong night.
Title:: “In My Time of Dying”
Author:: darkjediprinces
Fandom:: Harry Potter/World of Darkness/Angel
Rating:: R/M
Warnings:: Gore
Summary:: It was supposed to be just a night on the town with his friend. It turned into the worst nightmare he’d ever lived.
Characters:: Harry, Beckett, Zechiel, Lucius Malfoy, Erin, Angel, Serena, Olivia, Victoria, Bloodlines minor characters
Pairings:: None.
Timeframe:: 2006
In My Time of Dying
Chapter 3: Lessons
“Oh no,
Here it is again
I need to know
When I will fall in decay
Something wrong
With every plan of my life
I didn’t really notice that you’ve been here”
-“Heaven’s a Lie”, Lacuna Coil
“There is much to learn,” said Beckett, the next evening, “so pay close attention. I would prefer not to have to repeat myself.”
Harry sat quietly and nodded. They were in the same apartment he had woken up in; he assumed that Beckett was living there for the moment.
“There are thirteen Kindred Clans, as I told you yesterday. You and I are from Clan Gangrel. We are wanderers and loners, more in touch with the Beast Within than others.
“All Kindred have a Beast inside of them; it is the source of our hunger, and our power. Make no mistake; it is a monster. When you feed, don’t kill. Killing feeds it. You must cling to your humanity as much as possible. If the Beast takes control of you, it is… a wild animal, desperate, scared, reckless. This is called a Frenzy; keep yourself well-fed and avoid killing innocent Mortals and you avoid Frenzying. Gangrel must be especially careful not to Frenzy, as every time we do it leaves a physical mark on us.”
“What kind of physical mark?”
“It varies. Talons, snouts... animal features.”
Harry flinched. Beckett continued.
“I've already told you about the Ventrue, Tremere, and Malkavians... the other Camarilla clans are the Brujah, Nosferatu, and Toreador. The Brujah are freedom fighters and rebels. The Nosferatu...” He leaned back in his chair, looking thoughtful. “The Nosferatu are physically deformed by the curse of Caine. Simply being seen would be a Masquerade violation. However, they are excellent at stealth and reconnaissance. I've had to go to more than one Nosferatu for information on Zechiel. We may have to visit one again.
“The Toreador are graceful artists, obsessed with beauty in all its forms. They are closer to mortals than any other Clan.
“There are two Clans who ally with the Sabbat; they are the Tzimisce and Lasombra. The Tzimisce are... flesh-crafters.”
“...What?”
“Their primary Disclipline is Viscitude, which allows them to shape and manipulate skin.”
“Ew.”
“Indeed.” Beckett leaned forward at his desk and pulled out one of his many books, flipping through it until he found a certain page. “They like to manipulate their own flesh. Here, like this.” He showed Harry a drawing taking up a full page; the being depicted on it had deformed features, although there was a strange beauty about it.
Beckett went on to describe the rest of the Kindred clans: The Lasombra, shadowmancers who helped to run the Sabbat; the Giovanni, independent necromancers and mobsters; The Ravnos, tricksters and illusionists, and rivals to the Gangrel; the Setites, followers of the Egyptian god Set; and the Assamite, assassins and cannibals. He described the Sabbat and Camarilla in more detail, explaining the Camarilla’s laws and making sure Harry knew it was best to obey them no matter how he felt about the Camarilla itself. He told him about the Anarchs, who still flooded Los Angeles, refusing to give the area to the Camarilla, and the Anarchs’ leader, Nines Rodriguez.
Afterwards, they moved on to Disciplines. Beckett described the Gangrel’s Disciplines, Animalism, Fortitude, and Protean, to Harry and taught him how to use them. Harry picked them up quickly; they came almost instinctively. Afterwards, Harry felt rather woozy, so Beckett took him to find a meal. They ended up ambushing a bum in an alley. Not the healthiest thing for a vampire, but it was better than nothing.
Back at Beckett’s flat, Harry carefully attempted to pick a thread from the bum’s scarf out of his teeth, while Beckett dug through his books.
“So what’s next?” Harry asked.
“Nothing. For now I’ll teach you as situations present themselves. You already know the basics… time for some real-world experience, I’d say.”
“So what do we do?”
“Look for Zechiel, of course. As I said before… we may have to seek out the Nosferatu… Luckily I know exactly where they are… I cannot say the same for Zechiel, unfortunately.”
“Where do the Nosferatu live?”
“In the sewers beneath Hollywood. We will have to go there and present ourselves to Isaac Abrams, the Baron of Hollywood, then, assuming Isaac has nothing he would like us to do to earn his trust, we go to the Warrens and talk to Gary, the Nosferatu Primogen.”
“Why do we have to… present ourselves?”
“It’s an old Kindred tradition. Not many practice the Rite of Presentation anymore but Isaac does. It’s best we do as he asks, or he’ll kick us out.”
“So… to Hollywood?”
Beckett smirked, shutting his book with a snap. “To Hollywood.”
* * *
There was a Kindred thug watching them as they exited the subway. He approached them as soon as they were out on the street.
“Have you been to see Isaac yet?” He demanded, eyeing Harry with some apprehension.
“We were just about to,” Beckett stated. “The jewellery store just past the Asian Theatre, correct?”
The Kindred nodded and let them continue on their way.
“That was one of the Anarchs. He’s Brujah. Likely Isaac’s enforcer,” Beckett said softly. “Most of the Anarchs are Brujah.”
Harry nodded, then asked, hesitantly, “Beckett…”
“Hmm?”
“Why… why do you think Zechiel Embraced me?”
“I’m not one to speculate on others’ state of mind.”
“…Oh.”
“However, I’m relatively certain that his employer did something to displease him. Zechiel is brash, impulsive… It was probably the first thing that came to mind as payback.”
They turned down an alley off of the street they were following. Beckett stopped by a door with a stained-glass window and knocked softly before opening it.
At the back of the store stood a man with grey hair, dressed in a black suit. He raised his eyebrows as Beckett and Harry entered the store, shutting the door behind them.
“The great Beckett,” he stated softly. “What brings you here?”
“The Nosferatu,” Beckett responded succinctly. “They’re still living below your city?”
“Despite my best efforts I can’t get them to budge,” the man, obviously Isaac, returned. “Gary resists me at every turn, and likely because I’m Toreador. You try running a tribe of Ravnos out of your territory, see how far you get. Who’s the whelp?”
Harry did his best to keep from exploding at being called a whelp. Beckett smirked a little.
“This is Harry… he was Embraced illegally by a Sabbat I’m hunting. I took it upon myself to mentor him.”
“The Prince would kill him if he found out.”
“Which is why I don’t plan on telling the Prince.”
Isaac’s mouth twitched. “So I take it you’re attempting to track down Harry’s Sire.”
“Astute.”
“Well then, be my guest. I take it you know how to get there?”
“Follow the sewers.”
“Exactly. Oh, and as for the formalities… I won’t ask you to do anything for me. You’re free to move about.”
“Thank you.” Beckett turned to leave, beckoning Harry to follow.
“Oh, one more thing,” Isaac said. “Gary’s become bolder since the incident with the Ankaran Sarcophagus two years ago. His asking price for whatever information you’re looking for will probably be higher than usual.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Beckett and Harry left, emerging back in the alley. Beckett bent over and removed the nearby manhole cover. Harry flinched.
“Are we really going to take the sewers?”
“Only way to get to them that we know of. Use Eyes of the Beast-I taught that to you earlier-and stay close.” Without a further word, Beckett dropped down the manhole. Harry followed, tumbling out into the foul water with a small grunt. Beckett hoisted Harry to his feet. Harry wrinkled his nose, then closed his eyes and called on the Beast to enhance his sight; the dim tunnel they were in brightened as he opened them again. Beckett sniffed the air, frowning.
“That’s odd…” he said, quietly. “Serena’s been through here recently.”
“…What?”
“As I understand it, she knows of a shortcut to the Nosferatu, but I’ve never had to bring it up before… She wouldn’t take the sewers unless she had to. Which makes it very odd that her scent would be so fresh.”
“You can actually smell her above all the sewage?”
“I’m 300 years old; your senses will get sharper as you age. You were just Embraced three days ago.”
Harry nodded and followed Beckett as he started down the tunnel.
It was going to be a looooong night.