*Chapter 001: March 9th, 1997*
I woke up, like most mornings since I've arrived here, sweaty and my heart seemingly trying to escape my chest. Oh well. I might as well get out of bed and try to and put on a brave façade.
Maybe this will be the day I venture outside.
It's been only been six days so far. I still have six years to go.
Fuck me.
The only thing keeping me going is the fact that things could have been worse. Now I know what you're thinking. How could living in Sunnydale be any worse?
My leg could still have been broken but apparently it got fixed by #$#$#$#. Oddly enough there was less hair on it though. I could have also been homeless, on the Hellmouth, with no food or water.
Thankfully though the #$#$#$# that brought me here also transported my parents house right with me. The first day or so I spent worrying about my family and whether or not I had made them homeless. It soon dawned on me though.
The newspapers on the kitchen counters were from the late nineties. The pictures on the walls all depicted me as a kid and the least said about the bulky computer in the corner the better.
Desperate for at least a single piece of modern tech I raced to my bedroom. I opened the door and was greeted by the sight of plushy toys and legos scattered around the room. I picked up the only toy I really remembered having back when this was still... the present... , Mr. Biggums, my black teddy bear. Now armed with my teddy I explored the rest of the house and eventually settled for sleeping on the living room couch on my first night here.
You might wonder why I didn't just immediately commandeer my parent's master bedroom. I certainly wasn't going to be able to fit in my child size race-car bed.
I was clearly being silly and still holding on to comforting lies.
Like the fact that my Dad might walk through the door at any moment. Like the fact that there might be another #$#$#$# that would bring me back home.
I'm not going to lie and say I dealt well with the realization I was going to have to do this alone. There may have been tantrum or two. A crushed tea table, a broken mirror and a few hours I can't account for. My dad's liquor cabinet lock was certainly no match for my fury. The first few days passed like a haze.
Fucking #$#$#$#.
Once I calmed down, for a given value of calm at least, I started taking inventory of my supplies. The refrigerator was fully stocked, as was the pantry, for which I thanked my Mom profusely. I vaguely recalled my Dad having a briefcase with all our important documents and more importantly the keys to the safe in his study. After a few minutes of head scratching and frantic searching I finally found it in my Moms closet.
Having located my passport, curiously not those of my parents, and the keys I went to the safe to see whether or not I was going to be a pauper soon. I fiddled with the keys for a bit and was finally rewarded with the reinforced lid opening up.
SCORE.
The safe held my Moms jewelry, a bundle of cash, a whole stash of other papers and odd little black book. Ignoring the book for now I grabbed the cash and started counting. I'm still mildly ashamed it took me until my second recount to grasp the fact that the cash wasn't of the green American persuasion.
Great. I have fourteen thousand in Guilders, a whole bunch of jewelry that may or not be worth the resale value and a bunch of bearer bonds. It's not terrible. It's not amazing either.
I stuffed everything but the cash and a handful of bonds back in the safe, reached in and grabbed the little black book. Its cover was entirely plain except for the title, oddly enough my name, which was red/brown-ish. And it was... flaking?
Ok.
I opened the book and found that every page except the first one was entirely empty. The first page however had a single line on it, written in the same flaking reddish color.
You're not that stupid, Nick, figure out how to use this book and you might not be entirely alone anymore.
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*Chapter 002: March 10th, 1997*The little black book turned out to be vastly overestimating my stupidity levels. I tried the obvious solutions first like just writing in it. The ink simply slipped off the pages. My plan b, using a pencil, didn't pan out either. The carbon of the pencil tip just never crumbled.
I tried ripping out a page but the paper didn't give way. After spending a little over a hour utterly failing to make the book do whatever it was supposed to do I gave up.
Instead I spent yesterday afternoon running through everything I remembered about Sunnydale. I had a vague sense of the bigger threats but I definitely couldn't prepare for every little encounter. Then it hit me.
Why the fuck would I stay here?
I considered just leaving the sunny city but every time I tried to pack a bag I felt a little shiver. When I decided to ignore the ominous feeling and continue packing it got worse, much worse. I tried to press on, no pain-no gain and all that rot, and scurried around for my passport.
The moment I picked it up I projectile vomited all over the passport.
Once I resumed control of my bowels I yelled out to no-one in particular, "OK! I give. I give. I'll stay on the fucking Hellmouth!"
The shivering, sweating and stomach churning immediately ceased. #$#$#$# clearly doesn't want me to leave. This utterly depressing realization nearly sent me spiraling me back into my destructive tantrum.
Instead I decided to take a nice long bath, beer in one hand and one of my Dads cigars in the other. It did help make me feel marginally less depressed.
After rinsing myself off, slipping into some comfortable Dad pajamas, I headed back to the living room. I might as well clean up the passport since there probably isn't a Dutch embassy anywhere nearby. I looked over my picture on the passport and that's when I noticed it.
All the little things that left me feeling a little off since this mad #$#$#$# started. Why my leg wasn't broken, where my stubbly beard disappeared to and the general feeling of disquiet.
I'm sixteen again.
"God damn it. Are you enjoying this? You're going to make me go to that fucking school aren't you?"
The shivers came back.
Note to self. Perhaps I should stop antagonizing the #$#$#$#.
The shivers let up.
I tentatively pat myself on the back and prepared myself for classes with the 'Scooby gang'. I will of course never, ever, call them that.
And that brings me to today, May 10th, my first school day. Literally on the Boca del Inferno. It's also a certain blond Slayer's first day. Coincidence?
Hah. Hah. Hahahahaha.
Laughing emotional distress away is a thing right?
Anyways. So there I was, dressed in my Dads least upsetting outfit, backpack filled with school supplies. I'm almost immediately struck by yet another realization. I have no fucking clue where the school is, or how I am supposed to get to it. Maybe I should have spent the past week... less drunk and more pro-active-y?
Nah. I'll just walk around I guess.
I opened the front door for the first time since #$#$#$# and immediately my eye was drawn to the Ford Mustang convertible on our drive-way. I knew because it said on the back of the car. I knew fuck all about cars.
My Dad never let me drive his car when I was younger.
My Dad isn't here right now. And this isn't his car.
I ruthlessly quash the quiet feeling of despair and force myself to look on the bright side.
My Dad isn't here right now. The car is all mine.
All mine! I spent a few minutes looking for the keys in the house, which obviously turned out to be in the ignition, and finally left to go find the school. When I drove off the drive-way and onto the reasonably well maintained Californian street road I finally got my first real break since #$#$#$#.
Right in front of me was another convertible, which wasn't all that uncommon, but the person driving caught my eye. If I wasn't mistaken that was Cordelia and a friend of hers. She too would be going to school now, and hopefully wasn't picking up another one of her inane friends, so I simply followed her.
What could go wrong after all.
I obviously haven't learned a single thing. The trip didn't take long, Sunnydale really isn't that big, and it went off without a hitch.
Until Cordelia stopped her car, I failed to maintain proper distance, and I rammed straight into the girls car. This will make a great fucking first impression.
Hey, sorry I fucked up your car, but I was following you. Erm.. yea.
I turned off the engine, gather a pen and a sheet of paper, and got out of the car. Cordelia was already stalking towards me, furiously waving the blond chit with her back.
The pretty brunette immediately rounded on and screeched "What do you think you're doing?! You can't just bump into people!"
As I was about the reply she just continued rambling at me. I think I caught something about her Dad, or her allowance or something.
When she finally seemed to notice I wasn't replying she said, "Well! What do you have to say for yourself?"
I tried to stay polite but... I just didn't feel like it. My bad day, scratch that – bad week, trumped whatever has her in such a tiffy.
Instead I said, "Are you done having your one sided conversation now?"
The brunettes eyes seemed to flash dangerously.
Cutting her off before she could start again I continued, "My family just moved to the States so I don't have insurance yet, but I can go with you to a mechanic and have it fixed for ya."
"Oh! Where from?"
What. How is this relevant right now.
"Err. The Netherlands. Anyways... or I could give you my number-."
She scoffed. At me. What the fuck.
"Mister if you think-"
Two can play the interrupt game.
"-and address and you could have an estimate for the damage sent to me."
"Oh."
After that things progressed as you might guess and she acquiesced to letting me follow her to Sunnydale High. I can't believe that was the least upsetting conversation I was going to have with her today.
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*Chapter 003: May 10th, 1997-A*So there I was, waiting for my turn with Principal Flutie, Buffy somehow must have gotten here before me. Since the moment I set foot in Sunnydale High I have been on the lookout. For anything really, but the upsetting thing was that it felt just like a regular school. If I didn't know the halls were designated creepy crawly buffets I wouldn't have noticed anything.
The Principal snapped me out of my morbid thoughts when he said, "Mr. Blackwater? We were expecting you last week."
Oh. Great. Think up some bullshit quick. I had some time as he was still directed Buffy to her next class.
I spent the week terrified out of my mind and/or drunk off my ass.
No. Bad thoughts.
"The whole moving across continents thing got to me Mr. Flutie. I apologize for the delay."
There. That wasn't too snarky was it?
Buffy snorted as she was walking away.
"Do you find that amusing Miss Summers? You can wait here until I'm done with Mr. Blackwater here. You both need to go to the library for your books."
With that little mishap out of the way the Principal gave me my schedule for the semester, a few warnings and request to stay out of trouble. I gave him a heartfelt and sincere guarantee I wouldn't.
We were both obviously lying, but not doing so would have been rude, but we were both unwilling to stray from the comforting social contract.
When I left the oppressive office of the Principal Buffy was still waiting on the little penance chairs.
"Hey. You're Buffy right?"
"Uhuh."
"Cool. I'm Nick. Let's go to the library then."
"All right."
We walked for a little while in silence, not awkward at all, until we came up to the cafeteria.
"So... Buffy. You're new then."
"So I am Nick."
"Me too."
The blond Slayer raised a singular eyebrow and replied, "I know... "
"So the Principal just sent two new kids to find the library."
"Ah! I was following you."
"I was... I was just walking I guess. Trying not mention how awkward all this is."
Buffy smiled and said, "At least we got past that."
"Well Buffy. I guess admitting our mutual ignorance was the ideal icebreaker."
God, even in my head that didn't sound good.
The blond girl laughed though and replied, "I can hide behind my extreme blondness. What's your excuse Nick?"
"Severe jetlag."
"That would do it."
We eventually accosted another Sunnydale High student and had the girl, Marcie I think, take us to the library. When we got there Mr. Giles was already in his signature pose.
No. It's not what you think.
He wasn't sprawled all over the ground. It was the other thing. Him cleaning his glasses while looking extremely British.
"Miss Summers?"
"That would be me yes, and you are?"
I was acutely feeling the man's gaze as he tried to subtly convey his Watcher duties to the Slayer.
"I'm Rupert Giles, the... the librarian I guess. What can I do for you?"
This was when I jumped in with, "We need books."
Brilliant me I am.
"Well. Yes, which kind of books might you require?"
Buffy spoke up and rattled off a list of the books she needed while I spent a minute of two looking for my own list. Once I finally located it I silently passed it to Mr. Giles and started browsing the stacks on the tables.
My eye was immediately drawn to the giant tome with the title of Vampyre. I ignored Mr. Giles gaze burning a hole through my back and sat down to immerse myself in the book. At last Buffy drew the man's attention and both of them drifted off to closed off corner of the library.
The book was handwritten, on what appeared to be rather thick vellum, but otherwise was very easily readable. Apparently not all the mystically related books are in dead languages only fourteen people speak.
The world is far older then sources such as the Abrahamic scriptures would indicate. In the earliest of times the world was held by primordial powers, ancient demons, capable of shaping the natural world to accommodate their inhuman desires.
Bad. Ass.
How the hell do people like Xander not enjoy this? All this knowledge is fascinating as fuck.
"Here are your books, mr... ?" asked Mr. Giles
"Blackwater. Thank you, sir."
"You're quite welcome. Shouldn't you be off to class now?"
I looked around and saw that Buffy was waiting on me near the exit.
"Ah yea. So... what's the policy on lending out books?"
"The... policy?"
"Yup." I picked up the thick tome and continued, "I would like to borrow this one."
"Ah. My apologies but that one is erm... "
As amusing as it is seeing the British Watcher stammer I was relieved when Buffy helped the man out.
"That looks like a private book of Giles's. I don't think it belongs to the library."
Giles immediately jumped on the lifeline and said, "Yes, indeed. My eyes must be going, but that is one of mine I'm afraid."
I was definitely not going to let them deter me. Until I arrange for little miss super strength to care enough about me... to well... keep my blood firmly in my veins, I wasn't about to risk not know the specific details of Vampyre lore.
The show might have skipped some stuff, or more likely, I could have simply forgotten key steps. What if I cut off a branch later, whittle it into a stake, and it turns out only hardwood trees work.
Yea. Fuck that.
"So... it's going to be around though, right? I mean, I can back later and read it?"
"Uhh, well... if you must... "
Like I said, not going to let him deter me, might as well drive that message home now.
"You know, for a librarian, you're not really all that enthused about pupils reading."
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*Chapter 004: May 10th, 1997-B*Once Buffy and I walked out of the library we were met by Marcie, the girl who showed us the way to the library. I found it a little odd she was still there but I wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
I smiled my patented 1000watt smile and said, "Hey Marcie. We have science with Mr. Gregory now. Could you take us there?"
The girl flushed immediately and forgoing a verbal reply she just nodded. We followed the girl all the way to class, which incidentally was a long way off, the school was massive. Well, at least for my standards. My last high-school had maybe 800 students, this enormous complex routinely taught well over 2000 students.
When we got to class Buffy opened the door and held it open for us. I turned towards Marcie to let her through but the girl finally spoke up.
"Oh. No. I-I d-don't have science right now. Bye."
And she sped off.
I feel as though I'm missing something here.
The teacher, Mr. Gregory, was a middle aged man who seemed to genuinely care about being an educator. I didn't think anyone of the teachers here would hold my attention but he certainly kept me awake. There's just something about enthusiasm from a teacher.
Incidentally I didn't sit down near Buffy, she went off to Xander and Willow, I guess they met earlier today. The only seat available was one up front near the teacher and one next to Cordelia's group. Despite my better judgment I sat next to the pretty brunette.
The blond future vampiress across from me turned around and said, "Hi! I'm Harmony, Cordelia was just telling us about you."
I glance over to Cordelia, smirk, and turned back to the blond girl.
"Is that so?"
Open ended questions for the win.
"Uhuh. She said you have a totally rad car but you can't really drive it."
I guess I kinda deserve that. Still, let's not start this whole thing off by ripping into the girl who managed to swing not perma-dying.
So instead I settled for the neutral, "Yea. I'm not having one of my better days."
Of course this was when Mr. Gregory took note of me.
"Mr. Blackwater, is there something you'd like to share with the class?"
"Not really, Professor."
A little flattery never hurts.
"Then kindly stop distracting everyone."
The rest of the class passed by rather quickly, we all got our homework assignments, but since I'm not really a child anymore and have no interest in doing any of that... I was going to make some calls to a certain publishing house and get the answers that way.
As I navigated my way through the throngs' of students I tapped Cordelia on her shoulder and asked her, "Hey Cordelia. Do you have English Lit now?"
She replied as she kept walking, "Are you trying to follow me places again Nick?"
"Well, you do know seem to know the way."
"I guess it's your lucky day then mister."
I should have stopped while I was ahead but I never quite mastered that particular skill. Like common sense it mostly eludes me.
"And I can't say the view from back here isn't enjoyable."
Now, a few things happened at the same time. To my left one of the students, Jesse, walked into a trophy cabinet. The tall boy fell backwards onto Xander who struggled to keep him upright. He didn't quite make it and both of them barreled to the ground causing a chain reaction that led to a bunch of entangled nameless students. On my right Harmony turned towards me, bumped into a nameless student, which caused yet another student to spill her drink on yet another student.
Cordelia looked back over towards me; one eye brow raised and looked past me, looked back at me, smiled and turned back.
Huh. It didn't go that bad.
Which of course was the point I finally noticed the chaos behind me. Eh. Not my problem. The rest of the trip to English Lit passed without incident as did the class itself. Once the end of class bell rang I simply followed everyone else to the cafeteria.
I went over to one of the vending machines, got myself a coke with coins the school provided, turned around and surveyed the lunch hall. I noticed Harmony waving me over just as Cordelia was trying to catch Buffy's eye.
I slowly made my way over to the group and sat down next to the blond girl. Over the course of 45 seconds I found out what her favorite food was, two of her allergies and the names of everyone in school as well as their medical histories.
Hah. I am never remembering this. When I mentioned I was probably going to keep thinking of most students as 'no name-mc nameless' I inadvertently solidified my position in the 'Cordettes'.
Finally, my inherent lazy-ness is working out for me.
"Hey Cordy. Did you know that Buffy girl?"
"Oh please no. I thought she was cool, she's from LA you know, but then she goes and rebuffs me!"
Well. I guess we have a Draco/Harry situation here.
"Hey! Who said you could call me that?"
Call her what? Oh fuck. Did I just use Xanders petname for her?
"Call you what?"
"You just called me Cordy. That's for friends and family, and you don't qualify!"
Now I could play this straight or...
Flashing her a short grin I replied, "Yet."
She didn't quite flush but I could tell I scored a hit. Or just maybe I just pissed her off. I couldn't really tell, which was worrying.
This wouldn't be the first time people think I'm smug cunt.
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*Chapter 005: May 10th, 1997-C*Nothing much interesting happened the rest of the day. Except of course for the cold body found in an abandoned classroom, which well... was a thing.
Dead bodies laying about in classrooms.
I can't let myself forget that very crucial fact. Life is cheap in Sunnydale.
Since I happen to know that the Slayer is on the case I don't feel bad about skipping Chemistry and heading towards the library. Not that it would have stopped me, shit... vampires are scary, but it might have made me marginally more upset than usual.
Mr. Giles was looking as fabulous as he did three hours ago.
"Hello Mr. Giles."
"Ah. Good afternoon Mr. Blackwater. Did you forget a book earlier?"
Isn't he the one holding the Vampyre book hostage?
"Not really, sir."
If there was anyone I wasn't going to risk alienating it's the man with the plan. I walked over to the table I sat at earlier and wasn't at all surprised to see the volume I wanted gone. I looked over at Giles and he was curiously absent. He wasn't in his office, nor was he hiding out behind one of the bookcases. I could have sworn I saw a flash of something...
Fuck it.
I went into my backpack and fished out my little black notebook. Earlier I had gotten the vaguest sense of a trickle in the back of my mind. Odd, I couldn't pinpoint the source, but informative nonetheless.
Let's try blood on book.
I looked around for a sharp item and managed to snag a pair of scissors from Mr. Giles' work desk. As I walked back to my seat I pressed the tip of one of the shears in my pinky, pushed around the tiny incision and let... one... two... three drops fall on the book.
SALUTATIONS MORTAL.
The book was gone. The library was gone. Everything was gone. I remained.
"H-h-helllo?"
I/WE HAVE MY/OUR EYE/S ON YOU MORTAL. WILL YOU CHAMPION GOOD?
"W-what?"
WILL YOU SPREAD EVIL?
"Uhghh.."
IT MATTERS NOT.
I am so very fucking confused. Can it read my mind?
YOU BELONG TO ME/US. GO FORTH. AND BE.
And just like that I was back in the library. My heart was trying to evacuate my chest area again and I could feel the sweat dripping from my brows.
Nothing around me changed except for the little black book. On the second page there was a message from an entity. He/she tells me dripping my blood on an unidentified book might not be the smartest choice. He/she also wants me to make fire bombs.
The book is clearly psychotic as fuck.
I try to write in the book with a pencil and it does absolutely nothing. It appears whatever is powering this either needs more blood, which is rather upsetting. Or... it's a one way communication.
I could worry about it sometime not now as I just saw Mr. Giles return.
"Hey Mr. Giles. You wouldn't happen to know where that fantasy book went right?"
"Ah yes. Well. Very well. It's on the third row behind the world history section."
"Thank you."
I went over to where the elder Brit directed me, found the book and marched right back to the seat. I set out to speed-read through to book and mark interesting sections so I can copy them over in my notebook.
Not that notebook. The one that didn't threw me in a pit of Darkness. Capital D.
Over the course of the next hour I found out that drinking holy water doesn't do diddly to protect your blood, some vampires aren't even really affected by it and that staking a vampire with anything even remotely woody would work. Silver does nothing, no mythical herbs, just sunlight, stakes and decapitation.
Which I've always found a weird one... how many creatures could possibly survive that? Shouldn't we just assume it works and if not get ourselves a special mention?
For instance; that Fayarl demon over there can only be killed by a dagger to the groin. Far enough, but I'd be willing to bet money that just cutting off pieces of it and see what sticks might work too.
Not enough to stake, heh, my life on it but... then again that might explain why it's all so jumbly.
I was interrupting from my musing about the mortality of demons by Buffy barging into the library and demanding Mr. Giles speaks to her. The man kept looking over his shoulders towards me while at the same time trying to convince the irate girl of something. I wasn't quite close enough to hear. He finally managed to coral the girl into his office.
I looked at my Dad's, or mine now I guess, watch and notice it's creeping close to 4pm. Time to get the fuck out of dodge. Sunset may be around 9pm around here but that just means I have 5 hours to get home. Here in Sunnydale where anything could delay me... I wasn't about to take a chance like that on my first school day.
As I gathered my things and started walking towards the exit I was distracted by Buffy rushing out of Giles's office, screaming.
"I. DON'T. WANT. TO!"
Followed by Giles's, "You can't run from this Buffy. The vampires won't care that you'll be 'retired'."
Wow.
The old G-man is throwing caution to the wind I see. I watched Buffy run out of the library as Mr. Giles finally appeared to notice me. Before he could say anything I told the man.
"Mr. Giles. So... a stuffy old man, a young girl, mentions of a vampire and to top it off a student that died of exsanguination. Short of outright bribery, how exactly do you plan on talking your way out of this?"
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*Chapter 006: May 10th, 1997-D*It took me some doing but eventually I managed to verbally bludgeon Mr. Giles into submission. All I really had to do was convey my utter contempt for the thought I'd be actively searching out vampires. You know, on account of vampires being scary as fuck.
Once I got through to him the man seemed to come to life and set me up splendidly. He got me in touch with his pet priest, lent me his Vampyre book for the night, and gave me directions to the nearest international bank. His assistance with the antiquated-as-fuck fax machine helped me out a great deal.
I spent the rest of the afternoon acquiring some American greenbacks, was pleasantly surprised by my parents' bank account being active and entirely accessible to me, and afterwards drove off to the mall collecting a whole bunch of stuff. With my financial future turning out to be entirely secure, no part-time job for me this time around, I went to bed relatively happy.
I checked my little black book again just before I fell asleep. Nothing. Apparently the entities didnt feel like sharing any helpful hints.
XxXXxX
May 11th, 1997
I was preparing some breakfast for myself when I noticed my mind kept drifting to a subject I'd rather not entertain. Jesse, one of the named characters, got himself turned into a vampire yesterday.
Perhaps the act of simply interacting with the 'Scooby gang' might have butterfly'd that away. More likely though is the fact that the boy is gone now.
I wasn't exactly concerned about the moral repercussions, the name of the game is survival – not bring as many people as you can with you-, nor the implications about what Xander might do to me if they every found out about my origins.
I was worried about the slippery slope.
What if I'm walking home and see a vamp drag some dude into an alley? I'd probably walk right on past it. Unfortunately there's stuff out there that I cannot ignore. For one the Mayor eating dozens of babies. I'm sure untold other horrors are unfolding as we speak but... the baby thing will always get to me.
So, in order to prepare for inevitable day my traitorous conscience will drag me into open conflict with the man, which brings me to the Magic Shop. Or as it's known now: Uncle Bob's Magic Cabinet.
The proprietor of the shop immediate honed in on me, "Good morning! Could I interest you in a love potion for a special someone? No? A crystal of farsight? No?"
"Right. Let's immediately cut the crap. I need two volumes I know you have, The History of Witchcraft and Magicke Moste Potent, as well as any other works you could recommend."
The man's reply wasn't as enthused as I'd hoped he'd be, "Well well. A regular little practitioner you are."
"Again. I don't have time for this nonsense. Just get me those books and I'll tell you exactly which vampire would have killed you within six months if it wasn't, for me."
There. Let's see him disregard that.
The man paled significantly, sighed and waved me over to the back of the shop.
"I keep the items with real punch here in the back. Have a seat, I'll bring you a selection, and some gin. Strike that... a lot of gin."
The man seems to be handling the news of his impending doom rather well. Then again... he is a magic shop owner on the Hellmouth. He clearly knows what's happening around here and chooses to stick around.
When the proprietor came back he had a stack of about five books with him.
"Here are the two you wanted, and these three will neatly accommodate you. Now. Spill before I trap your essence in a vase."
I raised an eyebrow and slowly came to grips with that super specific threat.
"Around April 1998 William the Bloody will come in here to demand a love spell."
His caustic reply was immediate, "Why would he kill me for that? If I die, he won't have his spell... "
"Because it's a fucking vampire. Haven't you gotten the memo yet?"
"Watch it boy!"
Ok, calm the fuck down Nick. We don't want to spend centuries in a vase.
"All right. Sorry for the outburst. I meant that Spike is functionally retarded. Scary... but stupid. Perhaps you could cast an anti-violence spell?"
"Don't be preposterous, boy. I'm not paying that price to the Transuding Furies."
The man finally sat down, poured himself a glass of gin, and slowly started sipping it. He picked up one of the books he brought for me.
On the cover it depicted a pentagram and a whole host of other smallish mystical shapes. The title however was again in that flaky red/brown color – Flesh Magicks. The man then flicked his wrist and magically sent it straight at me.
The book hit me right in my face and split my lip open.
Before I could adequately express how I felt about that the man spoke up again, "Boy. You smell like Blood Magic. Explain."
Well fuck. Obviously he means my little black book. It's just as obvious that I can never speak about it. Flashes of a seeming eternity in a vase sped through my mind. Would I be aware inside? Or would I just pop up four centuries later when someone accidently crushes it.
Shivers.
Oh. They want me to tell him. Good lord, yes!
"I have a #$#$#$#, which #$#$#$# also #$#$#$#. They #$#$#$# #$#$#$# #$#$#$#."
Of all the... THEY are blocking me from comprehending the conversation I'm having right now. What the fuck.
"Good. I expect you here three times a week, between four and six. I think your... benefactors will explain when they feel like it. Now get out of my shop, boy."
XxXXxX -=-=-=- XxXXxX -=-=-=- XxXXxX -=-=-=- XxXXxX -=-=-=- XxXXxX
*Chapter 007: May 12th, 1997*So I've been forcibly apprenticed to a reasonably intimidating Warlock by my... benefactors. At least... that's the word the Warlock used; somehow though I know that benefactor doesn't quite grasp the particulars. It feels more like they are my patron, godparent and torturous warden all rolled into one.
Not quite sure how to feel about them beyond pants-shitting-terror and an oddly endearing.
Beyond that though...
The books were utterly fascinating; I could barely bring myself to go to class after leaving Bob's Magic hangout. Especially 'Flesh Magicks': the tome contained spell after spell dealing with the infliction of bodily harm. It contains blessings that for lack of a better word either 'strengthen' you or 'burden' your foes. And let's not forget the rituals for permanently sacrificing away everything related to the human body.
Guess what falls under everything: Injuries, Pain, Disease and even mild cases of Death.
The only downside is rather obvious when you consider it. There has to be someone that takes the imbalance. That means for every cancer patient you 'heal' you invariably inflict it on someone healthy. I forced myself to keep reading ahead instead of fantasizing about all the loopholes I might abuse.
Turns out there are very little of those. A sick person for a healthy person means you can't dump everything on an elderly individual who's about to die. You can however use a healthy individual with suicidal tendencies. Regards, I wouldn't want to rely on the fact that opportunities to do this might come up.
From what I've gathered every single ritual is subtle different from every other ritual, even the ones that explicitly do the same thing. The only consistency is the fact that each one comes in three stages.
The first stage is the set-up. This includes the ingredients, the paraphernalia you need as well as the time and location you hold the ritual.
The second stage is either the prayer/incantation, only applicable when dealing with rituals that require a patron god, or an offering to the specific demon you're invoking. Either way... this part is simply the bit where you beg for power.
The last stage is the waiting for the effect to kick in. If you've wronged/offended the demon or god and they take it personally... you want to find out immediately while you could still fix it. Beyond that the basic sci-fi rules are in play. Powerful, cheap and reliable; pick two.
The other books were interesting but they simply didn't draw me as much as 'Flesh Magicks'. Frankly because most of the other spells in all the other books require the intervention of a higher being.
While this might be acceptable if you're an Ethan Rayne, Rupert Giles or Willow Rosenburg... it doesn't work if you're me and you have a host of extremely possessive/jealous patrons watching you. No invoking Hecate for easy enchantment breaking for instance. I'm not sure what would happen to me but... it can't be good. For that matter... I'm not sure what would happen to Hecate should she answer me.
The blessings are extremely interesting. The whole basis behind them is a duality of balance. You can strengthen yourself or an ally ... but only by taking it temporarily from another ally.
That means that theoretically I should be able to share the Slayers passive regeneration with anyone deemed an ally by the donor, including myself, at the cost of the Slayer being unable to use it. The other side of the coin of blessings is the ability to inflict costs on enemies.
I can't arbitrarily take away Spike's strength, he obviously wouldn't deem me an ally, but I can encumber and slow him down with extra weight. Spike still has all his vampiric strength but now he has to carry triple his body mass with him. Again the same sci-fi rules apply though: time intensive, cheap, lengthy duration of the buff/debuff- pick two.
XxXXxX
May 13th, 1997
Willow told me Jesse's dead. There's an air of despair around the entire 'Scooby Gang'. Even a silly bint like Harmony could tell.
"Sheesh. What do you think is up with the loser squad?"
Yup, I'm definitely not getting involved in this mess.
Some other 'Cordette' replied, "Jesse, you know – the tall beanstalk -, hasn't been in school the past two days. It might have something to do with that."
Over the past two days in Sunnydale High I've been maintaining a balancing act. Since I'm not sure whether or not I have plot protection I didn't want to be heavily associated with the 'Scoobies'. Not because I'm worried about my personal safety, any more than usual, but because I know exactly how terrible the next Principal will be. When Snyder shows up I have no intention of crossing paths with the man. I can't really remember whether or not he was in on the whole Hellmouth thing... but regardless. The man is a grade A cunt. He's basically Severus Snape without the whole super spy thing.
This just means I have to stay close to Miss Chase. She's the daughter of the wealthiest dude in town, if I have my fanon right, who is also a major contributor to the schools budget. On the other hand, having the super powered killing machine like me certainly wouldn't hurt my life expectancy.
Yesterday I made contact with Willow during computer class. I managed to snag the seat next to hear and we spoke mostly about the curriculum. That was when Cordelia sent over Harmony to find out what's going on with me.
"Hey Nick... don't you smell that?"
Oh great.
High school politics, this has to be the cruelest thing the benefactors set me up with. I stood up so I towered over the girl but I took care to keep a smile plastered on my face.
"Not really, Harmony, but I expect you'll enlighten me?"
Willow looked like she wanted to speak up, the sweet girl, but I waved her down and just settled down to stare at the blond.
"Uhm. I mean-."
And now it's time to keep interrupting her. I doubt she'll be able to keep two different thoughts in her mind.
"You were trying to dissuade me from hanging out with Willow?"
"Yes! See, I told Cordelia you'd get it!"
And that confirms my suspicions the Charisma Carpenter expy was behind this. Time to show her she can't dictate my movements, at least not without mild repercussions.
"I'll take it under advisement, Harmony, but thanks for your warning." I made sure to smile my widest 1000watt smile and continued, "In the future, if Cordelia wants to tell me something, she can very easily talk to me herself. I don't bite, much."
I could tell I she didn't know how to reply so I put my arm around her shoulder, pulled her close in, and whispered into her ear.
"I thought you and Cordelia were close friends?"
Confusion flashed across her face.
"We've know-."
I interrupted her again after leaning in.
"Friends don't send friends on errands, are you sure she sees you that way?"
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*Chapter 008: May 16th, 1997*The sounds of the party roared all around me. I sat back on my comfy couch and surveyed my teenaged empire. My little conundrum from earlier was solved.
Why bother kowtowing to the teenagers' ridiculous standards when you can simply rule them by enabling their vices. Harmony was exceptionally eager to help me set this party up, after I rubbed the loss of her entire lab-class assignment sufficiently, and handled most of the logistics.
I just bribed a shop owner for a couple draft-kegs. Three hundred dollars bought me the ability to shut up anyone in our year up by threatening to disinvite them to the next party.
All was well in the world.
As I sipped my beer I keenly felt the absence of a cigarette. Despite not having smoked any, at least not in this body, the urge to smoke is still present. Instead of breaking I decided to distract myself.
And a distraction just walked in.
"Cordelia, are you enjoying the party?"
"Bravo, Nick. I didn't think you had it in you."
I know I shouldn't poke. And yet that never stopped me before.
"Now now, Cordy, that was needlessly antagonistic."
If I was wondering whether or not I injected enough smug in my chiding tone it didn't last long.
"I know what you're doing, Nick! And don't call me that, we're not friends!"
Yup, she's getting pissed off.
"What am I doing, Cordy?" I said as I grinned the type of grin that could make Tattletale wince.
"Y-you! You're subverting me and you're using Harmony to do it!"
"Bravo, Cordy." I replied, throwing her mocking tone back at her.
"Stop calling me that!"
All in all, it was a terribly amusing night. When I had finally cleared everyone out around two-ish I went to my parents room, took out my notebook, and promptly cut into my pinky again.
Three drop's later and... I was back in the proverbial pit of Despair and Darkness. Trust me when I say there's a good reason for the capitals.
MY/OUR MORTAL.
The voice, voices, assaulted me from everywhere at once. There was an undertone of polite acknowledgement under a mountain of supreme confidence in that proclamation.
CONTINUE MY/OUR MORTAL. I/WE AM/ARE WATCHING.
A roaring river of possessiveness.
ALWAYS.
Dread.
When I came to it was morning.
XxXXxX
May 19th, 1997
I've had three magic sessions under my belt so far. I call them sessions because my, for lack of better word, instructor/tormentor felt you could only learn magic by doing magic. And let me tell you, it's exhausting.
Not only physically exhausting but emotionally draining as well. Twisting my emotions this way and then that way is intense. I say emotion but its mostly pure intent; you have envision what you want, link it to another concept, and presto.
That didn't mean there wasn't an ungodly amount of theory I had to memorize. It was just that while I was memorizing said theory Uncle Bob threw things at me. Hard!
The very first spell we worked on was one that hardened my skin to a ridiculous degree. I assumed he chose the spell for its usefulness and the easy way with which I could cast it. All you needed was a shallow cut, performed by you – on yourself- anywhere on your body, and to focus the release of energy to do your bidding. No words, no casting delay, its bleed and go.
The sheer utility of spell obviously appealed greatly to me until I realized something. It's not only a defensive tool; it's a one use defensive tool, which protects me from harm until I am hit. Incidentally, have I mentioned I need to cut into my skin to cast magic?
When later I asked my instructor just how hard the skin would become, and when to best use the spell, the man just laughed. His exact words were 'Harder than before, you insipid child, if you're stupid enough to want to figure it out let me know. It'll be amusing. You're better served spending your energy taking out what's putting you in danger.'
I stubbornly resisted the urge to lash out and settled for frowning really hard at him. Just then I noticed, from the corner of my eye, a can of tuna flying straight at me.
I reflexively twisted my newly gifted and personalized 'focal bracelet', felt the sharp blade cut into my arm, and forced my mind to think Fortress. I pulled it off just in time to lightly feel the blunt impact on my shoulder but was saved the inconvenient pain. Usually I could expect a follow up coming almost immediately after the first, probably because my instructor is cruel bastard, but sometimes he let me hang.
This wasn't one of those times.
From behind Uncle Bob a teddy bear rose and rushed at me in a super-man pose. Like always I jerked my bracelet, twisted my mind, and realized I was a fucking idiot. I just bled myself to blunt the impact of a teddy bear.
"At least you're coming to terms with your stupidity, boy."
God damn it. Sometimes I wondered if he could read my mind.
"It's all over your face. We might as well call it a day on that spell for now."
Bastard!
My instructor got up from his chair and went off to the back. While the man was gone, I took the time go through the second spell he taught me. It involved offloading my injuries onto a lodestone.
The stone had to be both precious and 'loved'. The specifics are vague and hard to convey but it boiled down to a gem that means a lot to someone else. You don't necessary have to steal it but when you weren't allowed to buy or trade for it, otherwise it wouldn't be sufficiently loved if someone is willing to part with it, you quickly run out of options.
Until I remembered my Dad's safe, my Mom's engagement ring in there specifically, and went to retrieve it. Uncle Bob coached my through the ritual to designate it my personal lodestone.
I shook the bracelet, twisted my mind into Bank Safe, and felt the accumulated cuts, pains and aches of the day disappear into my Mom's engagement ring that hung around my neck.
I had to repeat the spell another three times before I got everything out.
"Stop playing with yourself, boy, and pay attention."
My instructor had walked in again... with a little blond lab puppy?
"This is a flea bag. It's yours now, keep it alive."
I was confused, incredibly confused in fact, but I did manage to stutter out, "W-what's it's name?"
"Who knows. You name it, you don't name it, I don't care. Just take it and get out. It's past six and I have actual people coming."
Well fuck you too. I need some answers.
"But why? Is that supposed to be my familiar or something?"
Was it me or did he look oddly... pitying?
"Or something. Now get out!"
I guess not, I took the little puppy, gathered my stuff and drove home.
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*Chapter 009: May 20th, 1997-A*Since it has been a while since I scoured my little black notebook I decided that to get it now. The first few pages were empty but scattered throughout were a variety of hints, ploys and general madness. All the ideas and tips ranged from – holy shit epic level items – to utter nonsense like 'Ben is Glory'.
What.
A couple of the mentions were obvious and I have thought about this myself. I've already purchased a repeating crossbow, a handful of super soakers filled with holy water and I've looked up the instructions for a reasonable incendiary device. I hadn't considered UV lights, the Vampyr book is obvious silent on the matter, but it might work. Or perhaps it's the only sunlight which will work. I'm sure I'll get to it eventually.
Holy water clearly held the interest of these entities. Beyond the super soakers I set up little balloon's filled with the stuff. I also had other little balloons with a little diesel, perhaps tying the two together and lobbing it at a vamp might burn it whole. I'm dubious though... maybe I shouldn't have skipped chemistry class.
I did order a water tank that I could hook up to my sprinker systems, I'm sure a decent plumber could set up something sweet, and I'll have it blessed weekly.
The ordeal with Ethan Rayne has amazing potential, if I can reasonably expect to retain the knowledge, should I handle it right.
Stopping Buffy from having sex is ... how the fuck do I do this? Perhaps get Miss Gypsy together with Angel and have her explain the spell? I'll see what pans out. Seeing as I'm already in her computer class, I might take advantage; I can try my hand at technomancy later. Unless of course... my benefactors oppose my involvement with the 'machine spirit' in which case I'm screwed.
A handful of ideas were extremely lucrative. Apparently there's a glove in LA that can kill Old Ones, I vague recall something about an Angel episode, which I need to start preparing for.
If it's as powerful as I've been led to believe... I may not have enough funds to get it legit. If I try to steal it... I'm going to need muscle. I'm going to have to think on it.
Another artifact mentioned was the 'Orbs of Nezzla'Khan. All I know about this is a connection with Warren, or resident nerdy psycho, which isn't pleasant.
Warren himself might prove to be a difficult problem for me. From what I recall the dude has no issue killing people and a knack for surviving scrapes. His friends, Andrew and Jonathan, should be much more pliable. If I have everything right Jonathan is the budding warlock and Andrew is a budget Warren.
I'll need to figure out what motivates them and try my hand at guiding them. Maybe paint the whole Hellmouth thing as an epic quest. That might appeal to them. I'm not ruling out the judicious application of whores though.
Willow is definitely going to be an issue; I have no idea how to keep the girl from magic, seeing as she's the type of person who'd cross any line for her loved ones. No number of dire threats would help.
XxXXxX
May 20th, 1997
As I walked through the hallways of Sunnydale High I was accosted by Marcie. I hadn't seen the girl for a while so I stopped and had a little chat with her. I wish I could remember what was up with her, I'm certain something bad is going to happen to her. I'm just... unclear on the when and where.
She did have an interesting piece of gossip. Earlier in the day a girl, Amber, got in a little accident which somehow set her hands on fire. As the realization that the cheerleading-witch was getting started hit me I let the girl ramble on for a bit.
Once I finally extracted myself from the girl I went off to the library. When I got there I noted that the entire 'Scooby gang' was present. I was kinda hoping that I can just point Giles in the right direction but... this could work.
"Hello Slayerettes."
Dead silence.
I let the silence hang while I continued smiling.
Surely they'll speak up now?
Mr. Giles tiredly spoke up, "I take it you've deduced the circumstances of Sunnydale, Mr. Blackwater."
Buffy's outraged was palpable when she exclaimed, "Giles!"
I decided to jump in before things got out of hand.
"Its alright Buffy. I know about the creepy crawlies in Sunnydale, which is why I'm here."
Once I dropped the 'Amy is actually Amy's mom and super fucking dangerous' bomb Mr. Giles demanded to know how I figured it out.
"Well, sir. You could say I heard it from a little bird. If by little bird you mean head-splitting visions."
Of course this set off another round of twenty questions with the 'Scoobies'. From my perspective it was terribly amusing. Mr. Giles stopped prying when I told him the visions came rarely and that they don't always depict the future. His 'acquaintance' with his 'friend' Jack may have come up.
Willow finally piped up with, "So what do we do now?"
All eyes were on me again.
"Don't look at me, I'll certainly come help but the lady's a much more accomplished Witch then I am, maybe Mr. Giles has a solution."
After a few minutes spent scouring his books Giles indeed came up with the solution. We were going to steal her grimoire. Willow snatched us Amy's address and Buffy, Giles and I drove off in my car.
When we got there I had Buffy knock on the door, waited for her to step back and steadied myself.
The door inched open and I took the lead.
"Hello, we're selling chocolate for charity! Would you be interested in some free samples?"
If I've learned anything from watching the show it's that people go nuts for free shit.
Amy-in-mom looked to be considering it and opened up the door. After which I promptly knocked her out with a well aimed punch to the side of her head.
"Nick!"
"Sorry, I guess I didn't mention her psychic connection with her mom, whoops."
Mr. Giles gave me an odd look but seemed willing to give me the benefit of the doubt. When we got in Amy's house we split up and soon found the book. As we were leaving I flagged both Giles and Buffy back.
"Give me a second, I hit her pretty hard and it'll bruise like hell, so I'm going to heal her."
I knelt next to the middle aged Amy-in-mom, twisted my bracelet, structured the spell in my mind into Safe Way and felt the pain of the punch gradually disperse over my body. It didn't hurt all that badly but it was only the second time I did the spell. The backlash still hurt. I checked the lady and once I was satisfied she would be fine I threw my carkeys to Giles.
"I'm gonna need you to drive Mr. Giles."
I didn't fail to note the significant look shared by Buffy and Giles.
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*Chapter 010: May 20th, 1997-B*I jumped into the back of my car and started fishing around in my backpack. I quickly found my camera, set the witch's grimoire on the first page, and started snapping pictures. I pointedly ignored Buffy's quizzical expression and just focused on salvaging as many pages as I could.
Mr. Giles kept glancing towards me and finally spoke up, "Mr. Blackwater, are you certain you wish to root around in a malevolent Witch's spell-book?"
I looked up and flashed a smile at the man.
"I doubt all the spells in here are evil, Mr. Giles. I'll be careful, I promise!"
Clearly that didn't reassure the man but well... he wasn't my Watcher. I just needed him to be relatively well disposed to me. No need to let him shackle my magical growth.
The rest of the trip passed in an awkward silence, only punctuated by the flash and click of my camera, and soon we arrived back at Sunnydale High. I handed the grimoire over to Giles and tried to find an inconspicuous way to make Buffy give up her driving-class slot to me.
"Buffy, I need your driving-class slot."
I could have put that better.
"What! Why?"
"Well. I think we might have been a little late and Mom-in-Amy might have gotten the next person on her list."
"What does that have to do with my class, Nick?"
"You're sharing the car with Cordelia, who is the next victim, and she'll be blinded by the spell."
Mr. Giles chose this moment to speak up, "And you think you can put a stop to it?"
"Not really, Mr. Giles. But does Buffy really want to be one babysitting her until her sight comes back?"
XxXXxX
May 20th, 1997
With the whole ordeal behind me I finally got time to focus on furthering my powerbase. I decided today was the day I was going to make contact with Jonathan and Andrew. Warren however is something else.
The dude is someone I certainly won't want around long term. That however doesn't mean I'm going to waste his potential. A worry for later though, because right then I found Jonathan sitting by himself on the quad.
"Hi! You're Jonathan right?"
"Uhhh. Yes?"
Amused I asked the kid, "Are you asking me?"
"No?"
Less amused I settle for just staring at him.
"Yes, I mean. Yes I'm Jonathan."
"Good! Come with me, Johnny."
Together we walked off, my mind on the next target, and Jonathan trying to come grips with his confusion. I knew that Andrew mostly hung around in computer lab. When we arrived there he was right where I expected.
"Hey Andrew!"
"Yes?"
"I need you to come with me with me, Andrew."
"Huh? What for?"
Argh. I guess he's marginally more confident than Jonathan.
"Well Drew." I reached over and pulled the computer plug from the socket. "I have an opportunity for you, mate. One I'm sure you won't be passing up."
The sexually repressed teen looked towards Johnny for help but the boy just shrugged. Seemingly out of option he got up and followed me out.
I briefly considered commandeering an empty classroom but when we walked past a nearly empty lounge I saw a wonderful opening. On the comfortable couch in the corner were Tucker Wells, Andrew's older brother, with his little pack of bullies.
I strided over towards them, subtle checked if Johhny and Drew were paying attention, and stood over Tucker. The kid turned in chair towards me, I grabbed him by the shoulders, and I pulled him upright.
"You're in my chair, Tucker. Get the fuck out."
He tried to pip up with, "Get your ha-."
I interrupted him rather efficiently by pulling him towards me, rolling him over my knee, and threw him on the ground. I slowly turned around to his perplexed buddies and tried to intimidate them into staying put. I was pleasantly surprised to see them stay firmly in their places.
I turned back to Tucker just as he got himself off the ground. An unarticulated grunt followed by him trying to take a swing at me. Fortunately he telegraphed the attack enormously and I sat back as the fist was headed towards my face.
A jerk and twist later led to Tucker screaming in pain as he clutched his right hand. He looked at wide-eyed at me at which point I took a deliberate step towards him.
The boy backed off, stumbled but kept his footing eventually, and called out to his friends to leave. I kept my gaze on all of them as they rushed out of the lounge.
Drew exclaimed, "That. Was. Awesome."
Jonathan simply stared at me with a rather odd look. I gestured both boys to take a seat.
"As I said earlier lads, I have an interesting opportunity for you both."
XxXXxX
May 21st, 1997
My scream died down in a gurgle. "Ahhh... grhlub!"
My everything was on fire.
I frantically spam Bank Safe but it doesn't heal enough to counteract the burning. I'm only vaguely aware of my surroundings and stumble around the room. I need to find a knife or anything with a fucking edge, before I burn up from the inside.
I launch myself forward, hoping to catch something familiar and was rewarded with a countertop. I feel around for a blade but couldn't find anything.
Shit!
Then I felt something, a coffee mug, and I grabbed the cup with both hands and smashed it on the counter. A new epicenter of pain formed centered on my hands. I use the multitude of cuts to spam dozens of Bank Safe in a row.
Still not enough.
Shaking I grasp for one of the larger pieces of the mug with one hand and stab it hard into my leg. Instead of a shallow cut I slowly drag the piece as far as I can. My left hand was occupied ripping Mom's ring from the necklace and jamming it in the wound I was creating on my leg.
Instead of countless little instances of Bank Safe I try to maintain the structure of the spell. An on the fly adaptation of the spell... if I wasn't so fucking desperate...
I hold the structure firmly, continue cutting even as the wound heals, and drag the spell out. For the length of a heartbeat I thought I failed. A subjective eternity later and the second heartbeat exuded a cool freshness.
It took another minute for the rest of my body to cool down.
Two minutes for all the cuts on my body to close up.
"Sloppy, boy, now for round two."
Three minutes before I murdered Uncle Bob.
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