A Sick and Twisted Christmas Present.
To Luba, I hope you enjoy my twisted little alternative reality "fan-fic",
Hugs, Cuddles, and Brutal Ravages...Timmah.
Writers Note: I had intended to write this as a private gift to someone, who I shall call Luba. Needless to say, I decided not to let these stories mothball. I see this as reclamation of my loving efforts on behalf of someone I'm no longer writing for. Some of the names have been changed for the sake of anonymity.
I also know that much of this shit is going to mean like nothing to you unless you waste your lives with the dorky hobby of LARP.
For those of you who aren't World of Darkness Dorks, here is a brief lexicon.
Vampires are arranged into clans, each with their different powers, appearances, and points of view.
Nosferatu AKA Nossies, Fuglies, Sewer Rats: Ugly vampires who live in large underground sewer systems.
Toreador: Pretty Vampires who hate the Nosferatu, and get are quintessential "Art Fags."
Gangrel: Wild Vampires that have the ability to change their shape, and tend to live in the wild places of the world.
Warrens: What the Nosferatu call their underground homes.
Masquerade: A system of deceptions, political strong arming, and magical hoo-dioo that Vampires use to make Humanity as a whole believe vampires are just myth.
If it wouldn't have given him away, Theo would have swore under his breath. He was too good at what he did to do that.
It didn't mean it was easy...
That motherfucking Ernie. Ernie, another Nosferatu was infamous for having a flimsy career, and an even limper reputation...especially with his fellow Nos. Yet again, Ernie had ended up sinking a huge deal. Ernie, former Primogen of Stockton, Ernie, the guy that couldn't sell a boat to a drowning man. It should have been an easy deal, but Ernie, who had these silly delusions of competence. Of course, also being Ernie, he insisted that he handle this.
"Primogen" Ernie of Stockton (What a fucking joke. Being Primogen of Stockton was kind of like bragging about being at the head of your special ed class. All he had to do was show up for Primogen Meetings, not say overly stupid things and stick up for newbie Nosferatu.) He often failed the former, which Theo had little issue with-- everyone who was in Stockton was an idiot as far as Theo was concerned. The latter actually affected the whole clan of Nosferatu. It's not the younger Fuglies fault that Ernie was incompetent..but since Theo wasn't willing to be, well, anything in Stockton, he felt obligated to still help up those burned by Ernie's failures.
That stupid bitch of a Keeper's assistant claimed to have pinched a Nosferatu breaking the Masquerade. No good, of course. But by that, she meant she used supernatural sight to catch him climbing into a manhole. Of course, she ended up pushing Ernie into having the young Nosling staked, and held.
Fuck! Was it too much to ask that Ernie point out the obvious? Apparently Ernie couldn't have told this opportunistic peanut-gallery bitch that it's not breaking the Masquerade if she has to use supernatural powers to see him. Considering human beings DON'T have the ability to do that...but that didn't stop that prick-sandwich Father Luciano from using this to pinch Ernie.
Of course, a major boon was gonna be owed, or that Nosling was just going to sit there in the motherfucking Tremere Laboratory...the Nosling couldn't pay a Major boon, he was barely acknowledged, and Ernie was hemming and hawing. He picks this issue to drive a bargain with...this time to fucking deliberate. Theo could have broken his fucking neck.
Taking over the debt, Theo wanted to pay it off immediately. Having someone like Luciano hold a favor over your head wasn't good. He had to get rid of it- What did that motherfucking priest want?
Someone to get some dirt on Shanghai Rooster, Archon. That itself wasn't that hard...but it had to be something concrete, something to blackmail him with.
That meant finding his Haven/s, setting up surveillance, exploiting weaknesses via his contacts and people he cared about.
Fucking Motherfucking Cocksuck Sonofabitch.
The last time he had spent out in Gangrel woods was with this turd-nugget called Alburtus or something stupid. Curious about what was going on out in the Gangrel woods, Theo had received a tip from some Brujah what was going on, and Theo wanted to confirm...trying to make a deal with the young man. Alt was currently Primogen in Sacramento, and Theo didn't know him too well but for seeing him in passing. Theo was blunt, too blunt some would say. Hard to be subtle when you have a stutter as broken as a thief's promise.
Needless to say, Alby started blustering to Theo, and in return, Theo made Alby's Beast his bitch by using his supernatural mastery over Vampiric nature.
Getting Alby to take him to the place, he had the sheer gall to ask Theo if he was a good fighter. With that, and his transparent body language, Theo knew he was gonna get jumped. Alby was as easy to read as a neon sign.
Alby was strong, but Theo was much stronger. Driven into a Frenzy because Alby couldn't control his Beast anymore, he tried to kill the Nosferatu. Theo could have easily murdered Alby- very easily, if he had chosen to take chunks out of the Gangrel by biting him. His fists did incredible amounts of damage, but the Gangrel had tough skin. Theo was fast as well as strong. It was a damn close fight. He held Alby's unconscious body. Theo made a quick stop to his home in the Warrens to sew up his entrails so they wouldn't spill out inconveniently.
It was a very real threat...showing up with Alby all wounded. His Clanmates could have just murdered him, but Theo tried to do the right thing (and ballsy thing)...and returned Alby to them, sparing his life. Unther, the leader of the Gangrel at the time that cocksucking piece of Germanic shit- refused to teach Theo the ability to shift his shape. Unther had lied and said that nobody outside of Clan Gangrel was taught the ability. Theo knew of at least 5 people off the top of his head that had been taught, but Unther refused, saying it was for his safety. Alby was there too, trying to twist things up, hoping that Theo would lose his cool so he could get his Clan to murder him.
So much for Gangrel straightforwardness and honor. Give them a few years trying to weasel back into the Camarilla and they were as bad as Neonate Ventrue. Theo could understand the need to play dirty to win, to get ahead. All Nosferatu did, and if they didn't they were kept underground where they could apply their chosen trade in a way that wouldn't conflict with their morals.
