What brought you to Geamana?
Harrison was kidnapped from his home and sold to the Manor. He blames himself and his hubris, really, though he would never say those things out loud.
These are the cards you’ve been dealt
Harrison always knew there was paranormal life outside of the mundane existence of humans. He knew it as well as he knew anything else; his father, though an architect by day, hunted beasts by night, driven by a personal desire to rid the world of those who would do humans harm. Harrison’s father was brave and yet reckless, something the boy inherited. However, despite this, he did live by a very specific code of ethics. “We don’t kill those who don’t harm others,” his father said one day, as he brandished a gun with a silver bullet. “They don’t hurt us, we don’t hurt them.”
Harrison didn’t want to hurt the supernaturals at all. He found them perplexing, intimidating, and incredibly mentally stimulating. His first real relationship with a supernatural began when he was a teenager, fifteen years old. The vampire had as much interest in him as he did in her; he became intrigued and she found in him something of a companion. He followed where she led, did what she asked, all in exchange for his curiosity to be sated. She told him everything he wanted to know, took him on her “hunts,” and for the first time, allowed him to feel what it was like to have a true love.
He began to write. He kept journal after journal of her interactions with the paranormal world, he kept logs of the supernatural creatures his father had killed, he wrote of his vampire compatriot and all of the lessons that she taught him. When he was nineteen, he confessed that he loved her. She confessed the same. They tangled together in some semblance of a romantic relationship as he continued to record it all.
At twenty-one, he got permission from her to publish his work, as long as it was under the guise of fiction. Though reluctant, Harrison agreed, and he soon had his work out there in the world. Publishing under the nom de plume H.L. Rhys, it was no mystery to those who knew him who had written the book. He wrote one, and then another, and finally, his father confronted him.
It wasn’t that the paranormal world was evil, it was just that they were undeniably erratic and unstable; one could never know when they would turn. And the book was easily identifiable to the man as nonfiction, so Harrison was transparent. His vampire lover responded with defensiveness, defending Harrison’s actions and their love for one another, claiming its veracity and the fact that he’d been kept alive for years, all as proof that Harrison was special to her. The peace among the family was short-lived, however; though Harrison’s father claimed to understand, he made a play to end the vampire’s life. She ran. Harrison was left alone, confused, and incredibly reckless.
He didn’t want to die, per se, but he began a pursuit of the paranormal, all in an attempt to find the vampire he loved. He had a tape recorder and notebook wherever he went, recording the lives of those around him, writing about them, digging deeper into the world of the supernatural than even his father had. He was careless with his life, pursuing selkies and sirens into the ocean, finding covens, interceding in the lives of werewolves, summoning demons and incubus and succubus… he did this all with abandon, with no thought to himself. Part of him, he knew but would not admit to himself or others, was hoping that his vampire love would see the state of him and do something about it, intercede or at least emerge as the one to kill him. But she didn’t.
Years passed, and soon, Harrison was relatively known among some supernatural circles. He was a friend to some, but a traitor to others, as his books continued to be published, and reached critical acclaim. One day, all of that changed.
The day started as regularly as any other; Harrison was in London, tracking down a heretic who had been rumored to have fallen in love with a human. The story mirrored his own and he wanted to record it, he wanted to see their struggles and if they were able to make it work. Along the way, however, in hunting down the heretic, he was discovered by a witch who hated Harrison and the body of his works. She attacked, dragging him to Geamana Manor, and leaving him there to his own devices. “You want to see what immortals can really do?” she’d asked him, as she passed him off to a guard and collected payment. “You’re about to find out what we’re capable of.”
Harrison had responded breathlessly, his head swollen and bloodied, body aching from the spells cast to immobilize him, “Don’t end your sentence with a preposition.”
The next thing he was aware of was waking up in his cell, broken and bloodied, with the realization that he would never be able to fully pull himself together again. And yet, somehow, nearly forty years after the first time he met her, Harrison holds out hope that his vampire love will find him, and they will be able to live as he’d always hoped: in love, and eternal.
Inventive, Astute, Brave, Assertive, Productive.
Brazen, Carless, Indiscreet, Pessimistic, Vulgar.
