wesleynotponcy: (neu: curious)
Hours after Angel had gone off after Darla armed with a stake and a vengeance, Wesley looked up from his book -- homework, actually, if you wanted to get bogged down in specifics -- and asked what he supposed everyone was thinking.

Or started to, anyway. )

[[nfb/nfi and ALMOST DONE.]]
wesleynotponcy: (?: WTF?)
The translation was not going well.

It didn't make much sense, was the thing. There were so many different languages, mainly demonic, and every time Wesley thought he'd made sense of a word's origin, he found it referenced elsewhere, in a different context, that disproved the entirety of what he'd already pieced together.

After hours of this, he finally forced himself out of the office long enough to pick up a cup of coffee and several texts that might aid him in the translation. By the time he returned, even more determined to return to work and finally piece this together, it was dark outside and he hadn't a clue where Cordelia was. He picked up his phone to check if he'd missed any calls, but --

Hmm. The cabinet was open. The one where he'd stored the prophecy just before going out. He knew he'd locked it before leaving. Had Angel opened it?

Wesley set his phone and the books down to retrieve the scroll. But just as he opened the cabinet, his priorities shifted. Because the scroll was missing, and in its place was a small, crudely-constructive explosive.

And then it went off.

[[nfi, nfb. totes taken from angel 1x22, "to shanshu in la."]]
wesleynotponcy: (?: WTF?)
The translation was not going well.

It didn't make much sense, was the thing. There were so many different languages, mainly demonic, and every time Wesley thought he'd made sense of a word's origin, he found it referenced elsewhere, in a different context, that disproved the entirety of what he'd already pieced together.

After hours of this, he finally forced himself out of the office long enough to pick up a cup of coffee and several texts that might aid him in the translation. By the time he returned, even more determined to return to work and finally piece this together, it was dark outside and he hadn't a clue where Cordelia was. He picked up his phone to check if he'd missed any calls, but --

Hmm. The cabinet was open. The one where he'd stored the prophecy just before going out. He knew he'd locked it before leaving. Had Angel opened it?

Wesley set his phone and the books down to retrieve the scroll. But just as he opened the cabinet, his priorities shifted. Because the scroll was missing, and in its place was a small, crudely-constructive explosive.

And then it went off.

[[nfi, nfb. totes taken from angel 1x22, "to shanshu in la."]]
wesleynotponcy: (conv: pretty serious)
As it turned out, the word that had been so difficult to translate turned out to be translatable after all. It wasn't, as Wesley had thought, Aegean, though the syntax had seemed to match up quite closely to the Eteocretan texts he had on file. Rather, it appeared to stem from the ancient Majars instead, making it proto-Hugaric. And it meant...

''Death.'' )

[[nfi, nfb. totes taken from angel 1x22, "to shanshu in la."]]
wesleynotponcy: (conv: pretty serious)
As it turned out, the word that had been so difficult to translate turned out to be translatable after all. It wasn't, as Wesley had thought, Aegean, though the syntax had seemed to match up quite closely to the Eteocretan texts he had on file. Rather, it appeared to stem from the ancient Majars instead, making it proto-Hugaric. And it meant...

''Death.'' )

[[nfi, nfb. totes taken from angel 1x22, "to shanshu in la."]]
wesleynotponcy: (neu: phone: conversational)
Today had gone like this: Planned Reserves meeting, set up Reserves meeting, listened to people share information about their home worlds, and then made a really stupid promise to Warren.

The end of the meeting meant that he actually had to make good on that promise. So here they were.

"So, ah." He glanced down at the phone in his hand. "Shall I go first, or would you like to?"

[[For one!]]
wesleynotponcy: (neu: phone: conversational)
Today had gone like this: Planned Reserves meeting, set up Reserves meeting, listened to people share information about their home worlds, and then made a really stupid promise to Warren.

The end of the meeting meant that he actually had to make good on that promise. So here they were.

"So, ah." He glanced down at the phone in his hand. "Shall I go first, or would you like to?"

[[For one!]]
wesleynotponcy: (weetiny: watcher)
Wesley had a lot of work to do, and he didn't have time to see why people outside were making so much noise. He had to read Gunderson's entire text by morning, plus write his father a letter and prepare for his exam on Tuesday.

He sat at his desk, steadily working his way through a passage about vampires' strategic torture methods. It certainly wasn't particularly light reading, but -- as he adjusted his Watchers' Academy uniform-issue tie and squinted down at the big words -- he had to get through it if he wanted to be a Watcher someday and impress Father. Maybe if he did that, once he grew up and came home on vacations, he wouldn't be a disappointment anymore and Father wouldn't have him sleep under the stairs.

[[Door cracked, post open.]]
wesleynotponcy: (weetiny: watcher)
Wesley had a lot of work to do, and he didn't have time to see why people outside were making so much noise. He had to read Gunderson's entire text by morning, plus write his father a letter and prepare for his exam on Tuesday.

He sat at his desk, steadily working his way through a passage about vampires' strategic torture methods. It certainly wasn't particularly light reading, but -- as he adjusted his Watchers' Academy uniform-issue tie and squinted down at the big words -- he had to get through it if he wanted to be a Watcher someday and impress Father. Maybe if he did that, once he grew up and came home on vacations, he wouldn't be a disappointment anymore and Father wouldn't have him sleep under the stairs.

[[Door cracked, post open.]]
wesleynotponcy: (warrior: defiant chin up)
From watching others attempt it, Wesley had always expected on-the-spot strategizing to be difficult -- impossible, even, coming from him -- but now he was finding that it actually wasn't all that challenging.

"Get your coat," he ordered Faith, leading her down the stairs. (As if he would let her walk behind him, not two days after what had happened.) To Angel, he explained, "Slight change of plan. In about twenty minutes, the Council's Operations Team is coming here. They'll expect to find you gone and her drugged."

And him a ponce. No, Wesley wasn't letting that go. )

[[Warning for mild gun violence in this. Taken and adapted from Angel 1x19, "Sanctuary." NFB, NFI, OOC is love, all this was preplayed with a cool person I know called MYSELF though I stole icons from all the canonmates and old guest stars ever, what are you gonna do about it? Up early for... other stuff coming later. Shh. Follows this, this, this, this, this and this. DONE SPAMMING NOW. Almost.]]
wesleynotponcy: (warrior: defiant chin up)
From watching others attempt it, Wesley had always expected on-the-spot strategizing to be difficult -- impossible, even, coming from him -- but now he was finding that it actually wasn't all that challenging.

"Get your coat," he ordered Faith, leading her down the stairs. (As if he would let her walk behind him, not two days after what had happened.) To Angel, he explained, "Slight change of plan. In about twenty minutes, the Council's Operations Team is coming here. They'll expect to find you gone and her drugged."

And him a ponce. No, Wesley wasn't letting that go. )

[[Warning for mild gun violence in this. Taken and adapted from Angel 1x19, "Sanctuary." NFB, NFI, OOC is love, all this was preplayed with a cool person I know called MYSELF though I stole icons from all the canonmates and old guest stars ever, what are you gonna do about it? Up early for... other stuff coming later. Shh. Follows this, this, this, this, this and this. DONE SPAMMING NOW. Almost.]]
wesleynotponcy: (fact: darts)
Wesley had thought he would go home. Or, well, back to school, rather, though for a while now "home" had been the best word for it. Either way, he'd been on the verge of calling for a cab from the mainland when he suddenly just -- couldn't. Not now, when his ineptitude was so obvious from looking at his face. Or really any part of him -- the injuries covered most of his body, and his every step or movement was accompanied by a wince of pain at the very least. And as he didn't much favor the idea of returning to school so people could gawk and bear witness to said ineptitude, he found himself somewhere rather uncharacteristic.

In a bar. In Baltimore. Where he was throwing darts, with exceptionally precise aim, at the bulls' eye of the dartboard. It wasn't even interesting, and he certainly didn't need the practice given that they hit one hundred eighty every time, but the only other thing he could think of to relieve this much anger would involve a gun, and all of his were locked away in his dormitory.

And he was drinking beer. Apparently if you looked this beat-up, people tended not to ask for identification, though he'd foregone his usual choice of scotch out of wariness of whatever swill they'd be passing off as whiskey here.

He was having a miserable evening, but that was fine so long as no one was around to bear witness to anything he'd botched up. Throwing darts, at least, he had some skill at. And practicing in spite of the limp, the pain all over his body that the bad American beer was doing absolutely nothing to help numb, and the lack of feeling in his throwing arm, well, that was an extra challenge, wasn't it?

It was a bit unfortunate that Wesley had been hoping not to reminded of his failures tonight. )

[[Taken and adapted from Angel 1x19, "Sanctuary." NFB, NFI, OOC would give me the warm fuzzies, and this is post six of seven. Follows this, this, this, this, and this.]]
wesleynotponcy: (fact: darts)
Wesley had thought he would go home. Or, well, back to school, rather, though for a while now "home" had been the best word for it. Either way, he'd been on the verge of calling for a cab from the mainland when he suddenly just -- couldn't. Not now, when his ineptitude was so obvious from looking at his face. Or really any part of him -- the injuries covered most of his body, and his every step or movement was accompanied by a wince of pain at the very least. And as he didn't much favor the idea of returning to school so people could gawk and bear witness to said ineptitude, he found himself somewhere rather uncharacteristic.

In a bar. In Baltimore. Where he was throwing darts, with exceptionally precise aim, at the bulls' eye of the dartboard. It wasn't even interesting, and he certainly didn't need the practice given that they hit one hundred eighty every time, but the only other thing he could think of to relieve this much anger would involve a gun, and all of his were locked away in his dormitory.

And he was drinking beer. Apparently if you looked this beat-up, people tended not to ask for identification, though he'd foregone his usual choice of scotch out of wariness of whatever swill they'd be passing off as whiskey here.

He was having a miserable evening, but that was fine so long as no one was around to bear witness to anything he'd botched up. Throwing darts, at least, he had some skill at. And practicing in spite of the limp, the pain all over his body that the bad American beer was doing absolutely nothing to help numb, and the lack of feeling in his throwing arm, well, that was an extra challenge, wasn't it?

It was a bit unfortunate that Wesley had been hoping not to reminded of his failures tonight. )

[[Taken and adapted from Angel 1x19, "Sanctuary." NFB, NFI, OOC would give me the warm fuzzies, and this is post six of seven. Follows this, this, this, this, and this.]]
wesleynotponcy: (neu: curious)
It was something Wesley had been thinking about ever since they'd arrived here. He knew, of course, that the Council had been stationed in Britain for centuries, but somehow he hadn't been able to muster up the courage to actually go until today. What do you know, Anakin -- turns out Try Not To Die class was inspiring.

Even knowing it was somewhere in London, he hadn't quite expected to find the exact same building in the exact same place that it had always been. The Watchers' Academy had been located in Southern Hampshire, but trips down to Council headquarters had been mandatory and frequent enough for him to find his way now, even without many of the usual landmarks to guide him. And there it was, that big stone building where he'd spent so much of his childhood.

It looked... neater now. The building itself couldn't be too old, he realized, reaching out to touch the stone wall with the back of his hand. He wondered if perhaps -- but no, there was always security stationed inside. Although perhaps since this was so much earlier...

Glancing around him, he slipped inside.

[[Mainly because omg I haaaad to. Open for calls/texts/whathaveyou, and NFB, please!]]
wesleynotponcy: (neu: curious)
It was something Wesley had been thinking about ever since they'd arrived here. He knew, of course, that the Council had been stationed in Britain for centuries, but somehow he hadn't been able to muster up the courage to actually go until today. What do you know, Anakin -- turns out Try Not To Die class was inspiring.

Even knowing it was somewhere in London, he hadn't quite expected to find the exact same building in the exact same place that it had always been. The Watchers' Academy had been located in Southern Hampshire, but trips down to Council headquarters had been mandatory and frequent enough for him to find his way now, even without many of the usual landmarks to guide him. And there it was, that big stone building where he'd spent so much of his childhood.

It looked... neater now. The building itself couldn't be too old, he realized, reaching out to touch the stone wall with the back of his hand. He wondered if perhaps -- but no, there was always security stationed inside. Although perhaps since this was so much earlier...

Glancing around him, he slipped inside.

[[Mainly because omg I haaaad to. Open for calls/texts/whathaveyou, and NFB, please!]]

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