wesleynotponcy: (reading: important research)

The last time Wesley had woken up in the hospital, it had been Karla who had been waiting by his bedside. The time before that, Giles. It was fair to say that neither of them had been as intimidating a sight to wake up to as Angel.

"You all right?" Angel asked, right off the bat once he noticed Wesley stirring.

Wesley nodded, managing with some effort to pull himself into a seated position – though more so due to the blankets pulled taut around him than the surprisingly minimal damage he could immediately discern. "Cordelia?" he asked.

"Got slammed with visions of all the pain and suffering in the world at once. Now she's been sedated and unresponsive," Angel answered, not mincing words. He held up the scroll. "This'll fix her?"

"It should," Wesley said, reaching out to accept it from him. "Would you, ah." He winced. "Get me a wheelchair, please?"

One translation and unbinding ritual later, Cordelia was awake, and the three of them in their newly officeless state set up shop in her apartment. )

[[nfb, nfi, stuff under the second cut up until wes' theatrics taken from angel 1x22 "to shanshu in la," and up early 'cause i may not be at a computer for the rest of the day. aaand done now, yes.]]

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: (five by five: gag 3)
The first thing Wesley could think was that this was nothing like those minor burns he'd sustained in Panem. It hurt much, much more. )

[[Warning for graphic descriptions of torture under the cut. This is taken and adapted from Angel 1x18, "Five by Five," and this wraps up that episode (and the spam for the evening). NFB, NFI, OOC is as good as punching Faith in the nose okay maybe not quite as good, and this is post five of seven. Follows this, this, this and this.]]
wesleynotponcy: (neg: earnest)
Wesley was still shaken by the time they returned to Angel's offices, and he was barely managing to keep from jittering as Angel wrapped up his phone call with Rupert Giles.

Faith was dangerous. She hated all of them -- perhaps Wesley most of all, though it felt arrogant to even suspect so. And he couldn't stop remembering the badly-written and difficult to track down conversation he'd had with her future counterpart over a year ago in which she'd seemed to imply that she would do something still worse than her offenses in Sunnydale later down the road. Sharing that with Cordelia and Angel seemed like more trouble than it was worth, but he, personally, was alarmed by it.

Then Angel hung up the phone, interrupting Wesley's stream of thoughts. )

[[Once again, taken and adapted from Angel 1x18, "Five by Five." NFB, NFI, OOC is so welcome, post three of seven. Follows this and this.]]
wesleynotponcy: (watcher: lecturey)
As usual, what Wesley had intended to be a brief visit to Los Angeles had ended up stretching longer than expected. Portalocity hadn't been able to book him a portal so late at night without connections during war periods that he'd really prefer not to pass through, so he'd slept on the couch in the office (which was terribly uncomfortable and not something he ever wished to do again). And in the morning, Cordelia received a phone call from a potential client, and Wesley -- well, he couldn't pass up the opportunity to be helpful, even if he did worry about whether he'd left Katniss enough birdseed.

He, Cordelia and Angel stepped out of the elevator of the office building where their client worked, and Wesley had to ask:

''I don't suppose you know just what it is we've been hired to do?'' )

[[Once again, taken and adapted from Angel 1x18, "Five by Five." NFB, NFI, OOC is so welcome! Post two of seven; follows this.]]
wesleynotponcy: (fact: driving)
He'd gotten the call just as he was unpacking his things on Sunday. Cordy'd had a vision -- a Mr. Ernesto Marquez, being chased by Werd'Nha demons. Wesley knew the breed – pyromaniacs, the lot of them. Burned human limbs for sport, and, according to a source of Angel's who was apparently quite reliable, a clan of them were on the employ of Wolfram and Hart. Angel said, in the tone of someone wearily going along with someone else's insistence, that if Wesley could catch a portal before sundown, he could help out. So after hurriedly setting out the food he'd been giving Katniss for the past few days, cracking open the window for her and promising to be back by morning, Wesley had set off for Los Angeles.

That was what brought him to the lot under the bridge, behind the wheel of Angel's convertible while Angel leaned over the side with a sword. While Cordelia had snarked at him upon his arrival at their office that this constituted chauffeur duty, Wesley thought of it as a bit more important than that. It wasn't as though Cordy could do it, and Angel needed someone to drive -- attempting to behead a Werd'Nha demon wasn't terribly difficult on its own, just a simple, well-placed swipe, but it got considerably more challenging when the beheader in question was operating a car at the same time. No, Wesley was essential for this, which was why he had a look of steadfast determination as he swerved the car just close enough for Angel to get a decent shot.

It was best not to ask when he'd gotten his driver's license.

Once the two demons had been taken out, Angel addressed the victim.

"Your name Marquez?" At the man's nod, Angel told him, "Good. I hate saving the wrong guy."

Well! That had gone as planned. And fairly quickly, too. If he hurried, Wesley supposed he could catch a portal right after their now-traditional late-night "breakfast, " check on Katniss and then get to sleep.

What he hadn't planned on, however, was the ooze that splattered him when a third demon approached Angel from behind and Angel took it out with an easy swipe. Eurgh. Perhaps he'd stick around just long enough for a nice shower, then.

[[Taken and adapted from Angel 1x18, "Five by Five." NFB, NFI, OOC is welcome, and this is post one of seven so sit tight.]]
wesleynotponcy: (considering: hand on forehead)

In the kitchen, Paige applied a bandage to Wesley’s neck.

“That was too close,” Angel said, pacing the floor.

Wesley looked up sharply, inadvertently jerking the cut. He pressed a hand to the bandage, wincing. “I let my guard down,” he said, hoping fervently that Angel would still allow him to continue. “It won’t happen again.”

“You’re not going back in there.”


Angel shook his head. “It’s too dangerous. He could’ve killed you, Wesley.” 

The boy’s father sat up quickly, fixing Angel with fierce eyes. “And my son? What about him?” 

The table began shaking, and Wesley clamped his unoccupied hand down on the wooden surface. 

“Angel,” he said firmly. “We don’t have much of a choice.” Leaving this the way it was would just be proof that the demon was right. He couldn’t allow that. 

From the bedroom came a voice he didn’t recognize. An Irish accent, but not Angel’s. Someone else’s.

"The good fight, yeah?" )

[[NFB/NFI, OOC-friendly. Some dialogue taken from Angel 1x14, "I've Got You Under My Skin," some mine.]]
wesleynotponcy: (neg: angst)

The rush of adrenaline one got from being a part of something real and meaningful was all too new to Wesley, it having been so long since he’d last had the opportunity to assist on something like this.

“Have you already lain out the binding powder?” he asked as he followed Angel down the stairs to his quarters at a brisk pace.

“Yeah, Cordy handled it.”

“And what supplies are available?”

They rounded the corner at the end of the stairwell and Angel gestured to a table, fully-stocked with the equipment that was relevant in a case like this. “Most of it’s from the local church.”

Wesley walked over, picking up vials and examining them carefully. Upon finding a small jar of a familiar powder, Wesley started. “It’s an Ethros, then,” he said.

Angel nodded. “The nun – she said they’re powerful. It’ll take tremendous strength. Mental strength.” The unspoken question hung in the air – whether Wesley would be able to handle it. Ordinarily he would consider that something of an affont, particularly given the fact that Angel had already called him, no doubt believing that Wesley was the only option. But now he was to preoccupied to give it much thought. 

“Resistance to suggestion. Yes, I understand that.”

He picked up a vial and shook it, pouring its contents out on the table. )

[[NFB/NFI, OOC-friendly. Some dialogue taken from Angel 1x14, "I've Got You Under My Skin," some mine. One more to come!]]
wesleynotponcy: (phone: urgent)

It was a quiet, uneventful Sunday afternoon, and Wesley was going through his weapons cabinet in his room and making notes of the things he needed when his phone rang. It was only a little bit sad when he dove for it, skidding across the floor with surprising velocity.

“Yes, hello?”

“Wesley. It’s Angel.”

Wesley ignored the little flutter of enthusiasm that perhaps he was being called to assist on a case. It had been a really boring summer so far. He puffed up, proud to have been contacted.

“Yes, Angel, what can I do for you?” he asked, his voice instinctively going smug.

Angel’s voice was brisk and impatient, though an observant person might notice that he seemed to be doing his best to come across as civilized. Polite, even.

“Is there any way you can get down here?” Angel asked. At the sound of something shattering in the background, Wesley leapt to pull on his shoes and sheath a dagger to bring with him. He was needed for something! Finally!

Wesley didn’t even bother to pretend to consider it. “Yes, of course,” he said. “What do you need?”

“There’s a possessed kid in here. We need an exorcism done.”

Pulling on his watch and shoving his keys in his pocket, Wesley hurried toward the door. “I’ll be right there,” he promised. He had barely ended the call before he was keying in the number for Portalocity, overwhelmed with excitement for a chance to be useful.


[[Establishy. NFI, but okay for broadcast.]]

wesleynotponcy: (Default)
This time the drive was even more frantic, but they at least had some information to go on. After a few quick calls to the different Ramsey Hotels in the area, they were on their way to the right one. And Wes wasn't even all that excited anymore, just propelled by adrenaline and intent on doing this properly. And he certainly wasn't thinking about the heroic stories he would have to share with the girlfriend back at school. Or, you know, everyone. Nope, not thinking about that at all.

Finally they reached the hotel and were charging inside. There was a brief dispute with an employee who denied that there was any auction going on, and then they were racing down the stairs to the auction room. The sculpture wasn't anywhere in immediate view -- but there was a storage room just adjacent to it...

In the storage room... )
After the (surprisingly-successful) fight, Wesley went with Cordelia and Angel back to the latter's apartment to collect some things and also because he was still kind of high on the whole actually-helping-kill-a-demon thing. Going back to school would be pretty lame by comparison -- but he couldn't deny that he was eager to relate this story to as many people as possible.

So back to Angel's place it was, where he slowly packed some things up. And he was kind of waiting for a thank-you. Shh.

At Angel's apartment... )
[[NFB/NFI, OOC-friendly. preplayed with [livejournal.com profile] life_inshadow as cordelia and [livejournal.com profile] notstakedyet as angel.]]
wesleynotponcy: (Default)
The ride back to Angel's offices was a wee bit awkward. Wesley didn't want to rub it in Angel's face that he had totally won that fight for them, because that would be rude, but when it was just hanging over them like the elephant in the room (or rather, the car)... Well. He was just going to keep quiet.

And then they got to the offices, and oh, this was all wrong. They simply didn't have the resources necessary to run a proper demon-hunting facility. Simply unacceptable. He followed Angel down the steps all the same, only to discover --

-- an empath demon. Right. Well, then. No wonder their offices were in such disarray, considering that they were apparently fraternizing with demons right and left. (Yes, because what he was doing in Fandom wasn't that at all.)

And all of a sudden, said empath demon was pointing at him and shouting something about Wesley being after him. Or possibly Angel, but it seemed unlikely that the two hadn't already met, given that this was Angel's place of business.

Well. Wesley was just going to go ahead and make a beeline for the books when all of a sudden --

"Cordelia?" Yes, that was indeed Cordy, Wes. Nice going. "Well, Angel never mentioned -- what a nice --"

At Angel's offices... )

And then at the spa... )

And then back at the offices... )

[[NFB/NFI for distance. preplayed with the lovely [livejournal.com profile] life_inshadow as Cordelia and [livejournal.com profile] notstakedyet again as Angel.]]
wesleynotponcy: (warrior: rogue demon hunter)
So Wesley was back in LA. Only for a weekend (he hoped), and this time with some actual research to guide what had previously been a wild-stab-in-the-dark sort of attempt at a demon-hunting spree, but yes. Los Angeles. On the prowl for a demon he'd read a bit about, which called for his absolute classiest rogue demon hunter attire alas, sans motorcycle. And yeah, he would avoid mentioning that back at Fandom, because he didn't really want to be mocked for all eternity.

So. Finally he came to the building where the trail leaded. There was some, er, interesting yellow fluid outside the building, which, though he hadn't read about it being found elsewhere, seemed to suggest that there was a demon afoot. So this was the right place, then.

He checked that his weapons bag contained all the necessary materials and then made his way inside. The building was in significant disrepair, full of lights flickering and ominous floorboard-creaking and all that. Totally not alarming at all, though. He was just fine.

The yellow fluid led him to an apartment on the second floor. Nervous but intrigued and wanting very much to do this properly, he opened the door, only to find there was someone inside. By some miracle, he managed not to shriek like a girl and jump a foot into the air. And then the lights flickered just as he was raising his crossbow, and -- oh.

"Hello, Angel."

Watch him keep his cool. No, seriously, watch him. )

[[preplayed with the amazing [livejournal.com profile] notstakedyet who is amazing. NFB/NFI for distance, but OOC, sure! warning for I guess violence? sort of?]]


wesleynotponcy: (Default)

February 2015

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