wesleynotponcy: (neu: yes?)
The plan for dealing with the enemies while also not giving away any information unduly to Wolfram and Hart was executed flawlessly, with Cordelia claiming perhaps more credit for it than she truly deserved, and finally evening came and they were in-character and ready to carry it out.

The Act )
The Aftermath )

[[once again from angel 3x10 "dad," nfb, aaaand that's it for plot (probably) until "waiting in the wings" in february, hooray!]]
wesleynotponcy: (arms crossed: look down)
Now, a week might have gone by in Fandom time since Angel's son's birth, but for Wesley and the rest of the Angel Investigations team, it had only been two days.

Over the course of those two days, Lorne had moved in (something about his club being firebombed as a result of the eighteenth-century vampire hunter who wanted to kill them all), quite a few groups had continued to seek after the baby in order to kill him or eat him or whatever it was that such groups did, and Angel had proved persistently unwilling to let anyone else so much as hold him.

Lorne called it a Mama Bear vibe. The rest of them called it irritating. )

That night, Angel was still anxious and refusing to let anyone else watch or touch the baby. Fred pulled an all-nighter in the office with Gunn for company as he came in with batches of weapons every few hours before leaving again, while Wesley and Cordelia did their work upstairs, each of them uncomfortable with the noise of the baby crying but aware that Angel didn't want any help.

Then in the morning, Lorne slipped Angel a piece of paper offhandedly, and their whole approach changed.

Oooh, a private strategy session. )

[[nfb/nfi. top bit is from angel 3x10 "dad," second part by me. idek.]]
wesleynotponcy: (weapon: wrist-mounted stakes)
Having escaped the vampires from the hospital (who, for the record, weren't so much an ordinary group of vampires but rather disturbingly cult-like in the way they'd gotten on their knees, groveled to the as-yet-unborn "miracle child" and outlined their plans to protect and nourish the child by feeding it the blood of its mother and all the other humans helping with the delivery, which almost seemed worse than the ordinary vampires who just wanted to kill everyone), the Angel Investigations team and Darla now pulled up to the Hyperion with a screeching halt as Angel ran inside to gather the Nyazian scrolls.

"Five minutes," Angel said as Cordy shifted from the passenger to the driver seat. "If I'm not back by then, leave without me."

Twelve minutes later... )

Their 'safe place' to hide out at was, of course, Caritas. Not like they were getting predictable or anything. )

[[adapted from angel 3x09 "lullaby," and that's it for today! nfb/nfi, and warning for npc death and the birth of a truly annoying npc baby, omfg.]]
wesleynotponcy: (conv: yes?)

Taking Darla to Caritas was a process that involved multiple escape attempts, a minor attack on Gunn, and, worst of all, the creeping suspicion that Angel would have to sing when they got there. Fortunately, that was not the case, and all that happened once they arrived was that Darla was laid down in Lorne's room to rest while Cordelia stood guard.

This ended in Cordelia getting herself bitten while Darla escaped, leaving only the convenient vision Cordelia got at the moment of the bite as a clue to where she went.

And so it was that two hours later, Angel returned to the hotel, bruised and with a distraught-looking Darla in tow.

Beat up by a pregnant lady. Good job, Angel. )

[[tweaked from 3x07 "offspring." nfb/open for phone calls! last post of the day yaaaay.]]

wesleynotponcy: (neu: scopey sneaky)

A day after Wesley and Gunn had -- successfully, thank you very much -- retrieved the Nyazian scroll from that man's home, the two of them were working on translating the text at the hotel's front desk when loud voices could be heard from downstairs. As far as Wesley knew, Cordelia and Angel were just sparring as usual, though he thought Fred might have gone down to watch this time, but it certainly shouldn't be an activity that required shouting.

He glanced at Gunn. "Nah, this is on you, man," Gunn said at once.

Wesley sighed, and went downstairs to investigate. )


In which there is translation, exposition, and a visitor. )

[[also from 3x07 "offspring." nfb, nfi!]]

wesleynotponcy: (weapon: wrist-mounted stakes)
Wesley's hands were braced at his sides as if poised to... punch someone? Hide his face? as he and Gunn navigated their way around the outside of a mansion in search of the first-floor window that would lead to the room where the Nyazian prophecy was being kept. This was the same Nyazian prophecy, in fact, that had been mentioned by multiple sources in the demon community, as well in a variety of critical referenec texts, as predicting the arrival of some great and terrible doom in the Los Angeles area sometime before the end of the year.

So it was an important text, and if Wesley was somewhat enthusiastic about having the opportunity to break and enter, and to take advantage of the outrageously expensive gloves he'd purchased several months ago for just such a purpose, well, that was his business.

"Step one," he hissed to Gunn as he stepped around a bush and crouched in search of a window latch. "The Dobermans are happily gnawing on the steak. Alarm and vid lines are disabled--" he paused to check the scanner he had with him and wait for it to update-- "no infrared. Caught a break there. Step two: we cut a hole in the glass, snake in the mini-cam and scan the interior."

So he'd bought a few other things from the store that had sold him the gloves. Hush. )

[[from angel 3x07 "offspring." nfb/nfi.]]
wesleynotponcy: (neg: at my very worst)
Wesley had only ever really had one coping mechanism. Just one, and not a very good one, either.

It involved sitting and drinking expensive scotch in the dark. It wasn't healthy, but it was what he did.

He had never considered that it might be interrupted by someone knocking on the door, though; for a brief moment, he thought of Karla, and the time she'd interrupted his grief over the Hunger Games. That was ridiculous, though. No one was going to do that now. Not unless it was Charles coming up to ask him to find someplace else to live from now on.

The voice wasn't Gunn's, though. It was Fred's.

''Wesley? Wesley, it's me.'' )

[[last one from 3x06 "billy." OW OW OW.]]
wesleynotponcy: (neg: pursed lips)
If this weren't Wesley Wyndam-Pryce -- a man who, frankly, would go on to make some truly horrifying mistakes that would greatly upset the fabric of his universe, some of them within the next few months -- it might be easy to say that going to the crime scene and taking a sample of Billy's blood from the patrol car door was one of the worst mistakes he'd ever make. But this was Wesley, and his bad decisions were soon to be legendary, so that wouldn't be entirely fair.

It was a pretty big mistake, though. )

[[nfb/nfi, adapted from angel 3x06 "billy" once again. THIS IS SO GROSS AND I FEEL GROSS. warning for just aaall the sexist language/violence/whathaveyou ever under the cut, though it's cut a lot from the episode because icky. and i'm gonna go barf now.]]
wesleynotponcy: (?: worried)
After implicating Billy Blim as responsible for that woman's murder, the next logical step was for Angel to trek out to the Blim estate and stop him from doing it again. Or, well, actually Wesley and Gunn went along as well, but only Angel had been able to hop the fence.

What he ended up stumbling upon was Billy getting arrested -- by two police officers, a man and a woman -- for supposedly phoning in an unexplained tip for another crime, this one a woman's drowning.

Back at the hotel, the team was piecing that together.

"My contact at the city morgue confirms it," Wesley said, hanging up the phone. "Her body was discovered earlier tonight. A young woman was reported missing three days ago. Someone phoned in a tip."

What's that saying about three times making a pattern? Yeah... )

[[nfi/nfb, 3x06 "billy" again, and another mild mention of violence under the cut.]]
wesleynotponcy: (ily: nostalgic wistful)
In between projects, the Angel Investigations team tried their best to spend time together outside of the office at least once a month. It was difficult because, well, three out of the five of them lived at the office, and their job did tend to be fairly tiring, especially now that Cordelia had started taking private training lessons from Angel in the hotel basement. But it was something that they made an effort to do, which was why it made sense that when Wesley invited Fred out for dinner on Monday night and was overheard by the rest of the office, the matter inevitably ended up with the five of them piling into Angel's car for dinner at Cordelia's.

Upon arriving, Angel and Gunn had promptly settled on the couch to play a video game, Fred squeezed between them and watching earnestly. Meanwhile, Wesley found himself helping Cordelia prepare some tea in the kitchen.

This wasn't what he had had in mind at all, but he was coping. )

The Powers that Be might have had some unconventional ways of doing things, but Cordelia's visions -- with the small exception of that time Wolfram and Hart had had someone hack into them to broadcast torturous images for her on a constant loop -- had always been reliable in the past. So bright and early the next day, Wesley found himself paying bribes to numerous contacts of his, and eventually enough of them came through for him to put together a little portfolio, which he brought back to the hotel.

''What's this?''

''What's this?'' )

[[nfb/nfi, taken and adapted from angel 3x06 "billy." oh god this episode is so gross, you guys. warning for very mild mentions of sexist violence under the cut.]]
wesleynotponcy: (?: side-eye)
Technically speaking, Wesley had left Fandom as soon as he could on Saturday afternoon. Practically, however, it wasn't until Tuesday morning that, exhausted, he stepped back into the hotel with exactly half of his original luggage in hand.

And he was promptly nearly tackled by a wall of energy in the form of Fred. Despite everything, he had to smile -- it was endearing, even as tired as he was.

"Wesley!" Fred squealed, hugging him with surprising force before bouncing backward to look up at him. "You'll never guess what happened this weekend. Go on, guess, I'll wait."

She actually did seem to be waiting. Wesley paused. "Er," he said. "Killer... lobster demons?"

He wasn't really sure why that of all things had popped into his head.

"No, silly!" Of course. How could he have been so foolish. "My mom and dad showed up!"

Well. That was certainly significant. "Really?"

"Yuh-huh!" Fred agreed. "And at first I was scared 'cause I didn't want 'em to see me an' know all about what happened to me, so I tried to run away and there was this icky bug demon tryin' to attack everyone so we got sidetracked, and my mom killed it, or at least we thought she killed it. And then we went back home, I mean here to the hotel, and everythin' was good for a while until I kept thinkin' about how it didn't make sense for me to be here, not when there's already you and Gunn and Cordy, so I started to leave with my parents until I realized there had to be more of the bug things, and that goes all the way back to when Angel took me for ice cream the other night, but anyway I came back and I catapulted it with a thing I made and I decided to stay after that and here I am."

Wesley blinked. "Here you are," he echoed, fixing her with a sincere smile. "I'm glad you decided to stay."

"I'm glad too," Fred said, looking up at him with that oddly intense gaze of hers.

There was a moment's pause. Wesley wondered -- would now perhaps be a good time to--

"Well," he said. "Since I seem to have missed all the action, how would you like to go out for some pizza, Fred?"

Her eyes lit up. "Sure!"

"Excellent," Wesley said, and it actually really was.

"Let me just go get Cordy and Gunn," Fred said, before sticking two fingers in her mouth and whistling sharply. Then she set off toward the stairs to the basement, where they were probably fighting over setting the rat traps again. "Cordy! Gunn! There's gonna be pizza!"

Wesley exhaled slowly, suddenly re-feeling that exhaustion that had gone away once Fred had started talking. Then he set down his bags and started rummaging for his wallet.

[[NFB/NFI/OOC-okay! i totally made this up because i didn't want to do a catchup for this episode and [livejournal.com profile] brat_inslayage agreed it was unnecessary, but holy crap fred is hard to write from scratch. events taken from angel 3x05 "fredless," la la la.]]
wesleynotponcy: (arms crossed: cocky)
After a relatively busy few weeks -- some of Gunn's old friends went a bit mad and nearly blew up Caritas; Angel temporarily switched bodies with an old man; Fred became increasingly willing to leave her room -- an evening finally came when the entire Angel Investigations team was able to just sit down and have a relatively peaceful dinner in the hotel lobby like normal people.

Well, Angel was entertaining them all with stories from his vampire past, but at least the food was normal! )

[[mostly taken from butchered bits of angel 3x01 "heartthrob" and 3x04 "carpe noctem," neither of which i really got a chance to do in full, and pieced together pretty haphazardly. NFB!]]
wesleynotponcy: (conv: pretty serious)
As it turned out, the news that the excruciatingly painful and physically-manifested visions currently plaguing Cordelia were not, in fact, coming from the Powers That Be, but rather from the malevolent forces at Lilah Morgan's disposal at Wolfram and Hart was... both a relief and an additional problem. It was a comfort to Cordelia, who no longer had to worry that the Powers were punishing her somehow or using the physical manifestations to express the urgency of a problem she was failing to solve. But it was also problematic in that they now appeared to be well and truly trapped in working for their decidedly evil mortal enemies.

Phase one )

After Angel set off to help the evil lawfirm release a dangerous prisoner back onto Earth, it was only a short while before Wesley's phone rang to alert him to the fact that Angel was back, had the prisoner with him, and needed a meeting set up with Lilah. Wesley took care of the arrangements very quickly, which was how he found himself in Angel's car along with Angel, Gunn and a convicted evildoer in the middle of the highway, parked opposite two Wolfram and Hart limousines as they prepared to make a trade.

Oooh, a standoff on a highway. Fun! )

[[once again adapted from angel 3x02 "that vision thing," part three of three. done with another week of spam yay!]]
wesleynotponcy: (?: side-eye)
And so Wesley, Angel and Gunn proceeded to Chinatown to investigate the five herbalist shops Fred had found in the phone book. This wound up taking quite a while, since it was only once they reached the fifth shop that they managed to find and acquire the key (it involved slaying a pair of Cantonese Fook-beasts). Once they finished, they were on their way back to the hotel when they received a somewhat urgent phone call from Fred, letting them know that Cordelia was decidedly not okay and that they were needed at her apartment immediately.

She wasn't wrong. )

Wesley's idea was not only viable, it was rather flawless, if he did say so himself. Sure enough, he called Lorne, and, since in Angel's absence no one had driven a hole through his club or banished him to the hell dimension he regarded as the source of all evil in over three months, he was only too happy to come by and help out Cordelia. Wesley was generous enough to award Fred some of the credit on this, but he thought he himself deserved quite a bit of it as well.

However, Cordelia's aversion to having Lorne in her head presented a slight problem, and they wound up having to wait for Angel to return with the key before they could proceed. In the meantime, Wesley received a somewhat confusing text from Gunn (u happen to know why theres a bunch of unlicensed exterminators in the hotel?), and was just about to follow up on it when Angel arrived.

Well. The text could wait.

Wesley Wyndam-Pryce: Quality planner. )

[[once again taken and adapted from angel 3x02 "that vision thing"]]
wesleynotponcy: (awk: forced smile)
It was another ordinary Monday night in Los Angeles, this time featuring Chinese take-out in lieu of a recent demon attack. This time, though, everyone wasn't so much bored as on-edge, and it was... possible that that might be showing. Just a bit.

It had been a full week since Cordelia's last vision, you see, so tensions were running... a bit awkward.

Oooh, dinner and a vision )

Proactivity: Always a valued trait in demon detectives. )

[[la la la usual weekly spam. 1/3 for today, and adapted from angel 3x02 "that vision thing."]]
wesleynotponcy: (conv: pretty serious)
It was hard to say, Wesley reflected, whether this past summer had been eventful or not. Yes, he, Cordelia and Gunn had been fairly busy most of the time -- killing Nester demons in Hancock Park, making contacts among the demon community, visiting Lorne -- but it seemed to him that "eventful" was a word reserved for a whole different level of busy: a week in a hell dimension, for example, or some sort of long-term Fandom invasion.

His persective might have been somewhat skewed, come to think of it.

But really, with Angel gone -- he'd departed for Sri Lanka nearly three months ago to deal with his grief over Buffy's recent death -- there just wasn't anything too huge going on in the Los Angeles demon world. Or even in Sunnydale, as far as Wesley knew, though that might have to do with Willow and Dawn not taking his calls. No, without Angel around, everything in Wesley's world was just... ordinary. Standard demon hunts, clients, visions, the usual.

Today's bout of perfectly-ordinary demon hunting involved a Mu-rite demon clan, a group of very misguided demon summoners, and a whole lot of demon pus sticking to Wesley, Gunn and Cordelia's clothes as they trudged through the hotel courtyard into the Hyperion. )

[[hey look, the kickoff to a year of spam! oh, season three. you are not nice to this boy at all. taken and adapted a bit from angel 3x01, "heartthrob," which, fun fact, aired eleven years ago today. a pattern that will continue with the rest of the posts for this season, just cuz.]]
wesleynotponcy: (Default)
Generally speaking this summer, evenings at the Hyperion were fairly noisy. After all the demonic activity had been dealt with for the day, dinner had been brought up to Fred's room for her to pick at and leave outside the door when she was done, and any slime from the aforementioned demon encounters had been washed off, Wes, Cordelia and Gunn would collapse in the chairs in the lobby with take-out containers and just talk at each other until they were too tired to stay up. Then, more often than not, Cordy and Gunn found themselves claiming rooms upstairs for the night -- driving on LA freeways after a day of demon-fighting was hard -- and Wes retired to his usual room, and sleep came really, really quicky.

It was a good system.

Tonight, though, it was quiet. There hadn't really been much demonic activity today, and as a result Cordelia and Gunn had gone home at a reasonable hour. Fred was... doing whatever she did on nights like these, and Wesley was left sitting by the desk with Chinese take-out and one hand halfway to the phone in case any calls came in.

Look, after a while the quiet just got eerie.

[[open for phone calls!]]
wesleynotponcy: (pos: amused)
So now that I am done spamming you all for the forseeable future, here, have some more spam!

I just wanted to give a huuuuge thank you to the lovely humans who have endured my incessant emails, IMs, and messages by courier pigeon over the past few months (months? Months!) while I attempted to run my very first plot, which is that thing you've certainly seen clogging up your flists over the past week. This involved a lot of me poking people and being generally impatient and fretty all over everyone, so I have aaaall the appreciation for those who went along with it and allowed me to flail inexperiencedly all over them. Not dirty.

So yes. Lots of thank-yous to [livejournal.com profile] abitlowkey, who is a god of talking me down off of cliffs and whose wisdom I took advantage of, like, eighty times during the course of this thing; [livejournal.com profile] inaskinnyway, who was a pro at reminding me to manage my priorities and not set myself on fire with flail; [livejournal.com profile] brat_inslayage, whose plot-running wisdom got solicited a LOT over the course of this and who was excellent at offering tips and pointers and such; [livejournal.com profile] life_inshadow, who gave me the idea for this whole thing and lent all kinds of awesomeness to the execution of it; and [livejournal.com profile] thegodofxbox, who dealt with my scheduling changes and bizarre "can-we-do-so-and-so" emails at all hours. Them's the best. <3


wesleynotponcy: (Default)

February 2015

222324 25262728


RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Sep. 22nd, 2017 12:51 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios