Endings and Beginnings? There are no such things.

[_the_ram_]

Welcome to Hell. Please notice the absence of any emergency exits. This is not an oversight on our part, they simply do not exist. If you come here, you're here to stay. The sooner you accept that fact, the sooner we can get down to business and things will be more pleasant all round.

Comments

[_wes_pryce_]

I narrow my eyes at Lindsey, I swallow a snide remark. He and Angel, always the same. He doesn't know anything about him, only sees the worse, the negative side. Bloody sod. He probably wished he knew Angel as well as we did, as I do. The way he was always trailing after him, always getting in his way, our way.

"Wyndam-Pryce,"I correct the twit again. How hard can it be to get a name right for a person who claims to be so intelligent? "And it's not a matter of not believing, it's a matter of not expecting to wake up here after ones death." Which would mean they haven't defeated the Senior Partners yet. Are they still fighting in the ally? God, are they dead?

But then...wouldn't they be here? Or another level of Hell. Are there levels? This is all so confusing.

"Not to mention that he's rather unstable," I snort, conveniently forgetting my time just after Fred passed away. At least Fred wont have to go through this. A first positive side of the whole thing that happened with Illyria. And Lindsey is unstable. Be with Wolfram and Hart, don't be with Wolfram and Hart. Run away, come back, fight Angel, help Angel. The man obviously can't be trusted.

Which, no doubt, is one of the reasons they've made him my assistant. "And what in the bloody blazed does being 'a liaison' entail? Miss Ram?" Stupid name if you ask me.

[lindsey_lives]

I bristled at her comments, but kept my mouth shut. Just because I was dead didn't mean I wanted to spend my unlife in pain and agony for pissing a Senior Partner off. "It seemed like a very good idea at the time." If I'd just stayed gone, I wouldn't even be here right now.

Wish Wes would shut the hell up before he made things worse. Angel and company must still be alive, otherwise they would be in this holding cell. Lucky bastards. Briefly wondered if Angel had ordered Wes to be killed too, but that seemed a bit of a stretch even for him.

I don't want to work for this guy. He didn't like me, didn't trust me, plus he'd be able to do whatever he wanted and I'd just have to take it. Scratched at the bullet holes that had almost sealed over now. The healing factor would have been nice when I was still alive.

"So I'm the Liaison's assistant. Is there a handbook or something I need to read?" Do we need to eat? Sleep? We aren't exactly zombies, but something different. Hell is what you make of it, I learned that the hard way. Just keep smiling and everything seems better.

[_the_ram_]

"And it's not a matter of not believing, it's a matter of not expecting to wake up here after ones death."

I greet that with an indulgent smile. So like humans; to work in a profession where death is very rarely the end, and still be surprised to realise that the rule applies to you too.

"Liaison, Pryce. Surely you know the basics. You've met three of the previous ones, after all. Take our word to the Wolfram and Hart CEO; keep an eye on their activities and report back to us. Quite straightforward, really."

Both men are looking at me with something most definitely not mindless adoration and fathomless awe. Their resentment boils gently around them.

Oh well. It is hardly a bad sign. It may take a little longer to break them to our will, but we will break them. And then turn that resolve to our cause. Yes, all in all, a good catch, I think.

MacDonald was nattering on about something and with a weary sigh I tuned in once more to his mental level.

"You are dead, the both of you," I say, with admirable patience. "You need neither water, air nor sunlight. Although those habits will be a bugger to kick."

[_wes_pryce_]

Ignoring McDonald, I raise an eyebrow at this Ram thing. A cold look washes over my face. If she keeps on calling me Pryce, I'm just not going to listen. I've told her twice now that's not my name. She may be a Senior something, but I'm dead anyway. What's the worse she can do?

"I don't know, not needing air might be very useful." Yes indeed. And no need for water meant no need for to stop for that pesky toilet. "I take it we are allowed to use water for hygienic purposes?" As if I care.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I sigh and give her a once over. "It's Wyndam-Pryce." You stupid little trollop. That's the Last time I'm going to point that out to her, really. "In theory, what would happen if I refuse?" And don't give me that bull about not having a choice, there's always a choice. You just have to look for it.

[lindsey_lives]

Right. We're dead and now we don't need much of anything. But we can be hurt, bleed, and suffer. Fun times. There was a question I wanted to ask, but Wes began to speak and I had to keep my jaw from dropping. He was mouthing off to Ram.

Oh, this should be fun. Most Wolfram and Hart employees would jump at the chance to become liaison to the Senior Partners, do just about anything to be given that position. And here he is being all pissy.

Hiding my smirk behind my hand, I take a couple steps back in case she decides to hit him with a bolt of lightning or something. With my luck, I'd have to patch the pieces back together again.

[_the_ram_]

I don't let my smile flicker in any way, I keep gazing at Pryce with cheerful candour. I do send one single snap along his spine, letting every single nerve of his spark and sing with sweet white agony. It's the kind of pain that, if he had any breath, would drive all air from his lungs. However, being dead... well, we can really do what we want to him.

"Your name is whatever we decide to be," I say with perfect politeness. "And if you ever look at me that way again, I will put you in a condition such that you will be unfit for work for at least a week. Understand?"

I shoot a glance at MacDonald. His eyes smile, and that's not an unpromising sign. It's amazing what a little touch of double-crossing and death will do for his concern for his former companions.

"The worst we can do to you, Pryce, has already been done," I continue calmly, with a slight shrug. "But in the living world, Charles Gunn for one still has a chance. He still lives. At least for now. Spike has yet to be dusted, Illyria yet to be decapitated. Do you begin to follow me?"

[_wes_pryce_]

Well, that hurt...somewhat...badly. Gritting my teeth, I glare at this Ram being. Playing like that are we? The rush of pain is still ringing in my ears, so I'll just pretend I've not heard her. "Insufferable wench," I mutter under my breath as I straighten up.

I've a feeling that Miss Ram and I are not going to get along. I refuse to listen to the name Pryce, I'm not her dog. I'm not anyone's dog. And if I'm to be McDonald's boss? That little smirk just got him in a lot of trouble. I'll think of something very nice. Stupid pratt.

"Really?" I cross my arms over my chest and give her a disinterested look. "If the worse has already been done, then I fail to see what I'm doing here in that case." Maybe the rest had more luck then I do. Just my rotten misfortune to die first and wind up here I guess. "Why don't you get to the bloody point." You powerhungry bint.

[lindsey_lives]

Bet that hurt quite a bit. But he doesn't cry out or anything. Bravo Wes. Talking back to a Senior Partner is a rather stupid thing to do. It was more along the lines of something I'd do.

The battle was still going? Personally, I hoped someone was beating the crap out of Angel right now, making him suffer.

I raised an eyebrow as Wes spoke again. Ram was using the usual threats. If pain doesn't bother you, we'll hurt/torture/kill those you care for until you do what we say. "Angel's still undead then? Bummer."