Comments | hells_revenge: Endings and Beginnings? There are no such things.

_the_ram_ in hells_revenge

Endings and Beginnings? There are no such things.

Jan 05, 2005 01:53

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.

( Greetings and Salutations... )

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_the_ram_ January 8 2005, 20:12:50 UTC

It's odd to think that a mere three hours earlier I was actually feeling quite relaxed and mellow. I had a glass of warmed spiced wine on the side table, my feet up on a stool by a blazing fire, and a nice book in my hand about life in aquatic dimensions. Hamiliton had reported that Angel had finally caved to the pressures of power. In short, I was feeling quite sunny and cheerful towards the world ( ... )

_wes_pryce_ January 8 2005, 20:50:00 UTC

Glaring at McDonald, I shoot a few daggers at him. Well, at least in my mind. The boss thing is starting to look more and more appealing every time the git opens his mouth.

On their side? Wait just one sodding minute. What made her think I was going to be on *her* side? The hell I was. And no contract was going to force me to do so. No contract was going to force me to work against Angel.

Narrowing my eyes, I open my mouth to say just that. Stupid little furball want to be. Then another part of her long winded speech struck me. Angel signed away his shanshu? The bloody git! I was going to have a word with him about that. Dammit! He worked so hard for that, just to sign it away. I doubt Mister Spike would even want it ( ... )

lindsey_lives January 9 2005, 00:43:56 UTC

Why in the world had we been following that idiot's orders in the first place? Signed away his own destiny. Screwed his friends over and damned them all to hell. Come to think of it, why had I agreed to help? I wasn't even sure any more. Certainly wasn't worth it.

Wes is giving me a glare that made Holland's seem like nothing. I'd proably pay for my little comments later. But I was dead now, so what did it matter? Even if Angel snaped his neck, it wouldn't kill him anyway. Maybe he'd need to duct tape it back on straight.

"Um excuse me. If I'm his assistant, what exactly will I be doing while he goes up to play with his friends?" I'm amazed Angel didn't just have them all murdered and be done with it. 'If I'm going to die, I'm taking the rest of you down too' isn't a really great attitude for a leader to have. Fucking jackass.

_the_ram_ January 9 2005, 01:02:01 UTC

I can feel their anger and resentment seething in the air around us. Pryce looks like a bomb simply waiting to go off. However, it must be that stiff British upper lip that finally gives him some self-control and manners.

"That's the spirit." I nod at him before turning my attention to MacDonald. He too is looking rather pissed-off, although this time I don't think it's aimed at me.

Part of me is tempted to keep MacDonald behind now and pop him the offer straightaway. Right now he looks like he'd happily dust Angel and scatter his ashes over a dung heap without so much as a tear. However, appearances can be deceiving. MacDonald has appeared dedicated to us before, and then suddenly done a 180 degree turn over something as trivial as children or a spare appendage. So I just gaze at him evenly.

"You will do whatever our Liaison decides you should do," I say. "His job will be to assist Angel in getting the LA offices back up to scratch. So doubtless he will be very busy, and in such cases, you will be reporting to us on his behalf."

_wes_pryce_ January 9 2005, 01:13:13 UTC

Condescending little trollop. That's the spirit. I'll show her spirit if she keeps this up. Alright, better calm down a bit more, not need to get caught in the act so to speak so soon in the game. I'll just have to wait patiently, bide my time, which I'm sure will come. Angel will listen to me this time and the we'll sit down nice and discuss the merits of his plans.

Or lack there off.

"What ever I decide hmm?" Now that? Has potential. A lot of potential. Looking over at him I give him an innocent smile that turns rather...not very nice soon there after. And I don't really care if the furball wench can see me doing it or not.

Schooling my face, I don't take my eyes of him but direct my question at the twit. "When do I leave?"

lindsey_lives January 9 2005, 08:16:12 UTC

Crap. More than just crap. Big stinking mounds of elephant shit that's been in the sun for hours. Wes smiled at me, and it wasn't nice, not at all. That was a Hollad kind of grin. The kind that promised all kinds of problems ain the near future.

I had to work for him. Under him. A thought popped into my brain and I quickly shoved it away. Just because that's how things worked with the living workers at Wolfram and Hart, didn't mean we did it down here too. What I did want to do was get out of thse clothes. I didn't like being reminded that I'd just been murdered.

Wait a second. I report back to the Partners myself? That could be interesting, provided they didn't beat the snot out of me every time I was in their offices or whatever it was that they used down here. "Are we stuck in these clothes or is there a corporate uniform we're supposed to wear?" Welcome to hell, here's your mime suit.

_the_ram_ January 9 2005, 15:45:19 UTC

I almost frown at Pryce, a little puzzled. From his history, I would have put him down as the kind of person to drop everything and take off running at the first hint of Angel being in trouble. Whether this would be to help the vampire or kick him whilst down depends on your point of view. Vail believed Pryce was a turncoat-in-waiting, but then again, Vail was now dead. So facts point to him possibly being a little off the mark with that one ( ... )

_wes_pryce_ January 10 2005, 23:20:27 UTC

The twit makes it sound as if I've really a choice. We both know that I don't. I'd do anything to save my friends, its a weakness and she taking advantage of that. I can play along for now and only hope that I get a chance to talk to Angel to explain things.

And the Git McDonald is in for a nice surprise. Him and his sarcastic remarks. I don't sodding care what he thinks about Angel, it's always been pretty obvious what he thought. Which is why I'm rather surprised that he wanted to help us out. Still don't trust the sod.

Narrowing my eyes, I glare at her hand and then back up again. Why do I get the feeling I'm going to regret doing this. But like I said, I've no choice. Sighing, I reach out and grab it. Just as long as she knows that I'm not her damn puppy dog.

lindsey_lives January 11 2005, 01:28:03 UTC

Yes, make your deal with the devil so we can move on. I want out of these clothes, I want to get out of this holding cell. I might be dead, but I don't feel like wasting the rest of my unlife here. If Wes didn't take her hand, I was going to. Then they'd be stuck with me as liaison.

Save your friends, save that damn Judas of a vampire. He'll just screw everyone over again, that's what he does. It's all about him and screw anyone else who gets in his way. Fight for me, die for me because I plan on going down with this ship.

I watched as he finally took Ram's hand. Waited for some fireworks or something, but I didn't see anything. How boring. "So what, he just pops up there and his buddies all make it out of there alive?" Lucky them. Does that mean I have to go up there too? I don't think I'd be able to stop myself from punching Angel in the face. Love to kill him very slowly, but I doubt I'll be allowed near him. Fucking vampire.

_the_ram_ January 11 2005, 01:42:59 UTC

His hand is still warm with the fading heat of life. It won't last long, but it's an oddly real reminder of how short a time ago it was that Pryce and MacDonald were walking and talking with heartbeats thumping away inside them.

Our palms tingle a little at the first contact. Pryce is still radiating defiance, even as he makes the same mistake again and for no better a reason than the first time. Humans can be such sentimental little things.

MacDonald is once again buzzing away with some comment, but I keep my gaze on Pryce. Patience.

The tingling fades, drawing back like the lull before lightening strikes. And then snap; it connects and it gone ( ... )

_wes_pryce_ January 11 2005, 01:54:38 UTC

I can feel raw energy roaring inside of me, rushing through my veins, setting in my bones. And for a moment I'm confused as to what it's purpose is. What it makes me capable of doing. Then I remember this Hamilton person, am I like him now? I'm not going to ask, I've better ways of finding out ( ... )

lindsey_lives January 11 2005, 03:07:48 UTC

I glanced down at my new clothes. Nice. Nothing screams evil like a lawyer in an expensive suit. Always beware of a sharp dressed man. Reach up and ran my fingers through my hair. It hadn't been this short in almost two years.

A smile slowly spread across my lips. New clothes, nice new haircut, and I looked better than Wes did. I wasn't being tortured, or slowly being killed repeatedly with a dull knife, and I was about to go see the son of a bitch that had ordered my execution. What wasn't there to enjoy?

"I'm your assistant, Mr. Wyndam-Pryce. That means I have to go wherever you do. For all of eternity or until I get a different position." I smiled again, and it wasn't a nice one. Always having to be around Angel was going to drive me insane. Reached into my pocket and look at one of the cards. Assistant to Mr. Wyndam-Pryce, Wolfram and Hart Hell Division. Nice.

_the_ram_ January 12 2005, 00:05:40 UTC

No matter how powerful you become, it's still nice to have someone show a little appreciation of your work. And from the looks of it, MacDonald is more than a tad pleased with some of my handiwork.

"He's spot on, you know," I inform Pryce cheerily, although keeping my eye on MacDonald. That one could live up to Holland's glowing reports yet. "He is now your responsibility. Anything goes badly, you will answer for him. Until the end of time, or until we decide to move him beyond your sphere of influence ( ... )

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