[ Holo | Location: Sanctuary ]

[prophecy_boy]

He was sure something with the ritual had gone wrong. Not that there was much that could go right, he corrected himself, the sick, heavy feeling that had settled in his stomach so many hours beforehand still refusing to let up. He blinked several times as his eyes adjusted to the change in lighting and scenery; he had gone from a dark warehouse

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[ holo ]

[prophecy_boy]

The all-too-familiar tone of Angel's voice was enough to set Connor completely rigid, falling into his usual battle-ready hunch without a second thought. His upper lip curled as he looked over his shoulder for the source of the voice, unable to swallow down the rage that had begun to swell up into his chest. "Don't tell me what to do!" he snapped before he could stop himself, out of habit more than anything.

He exhaled slowly, forcing himself to calm. His own voice was still sharp, irate, but he managed to sound slightly less venomous as he continued. "Where are you?"

[ holo ] pffft I got time. XD

[prophecy_boy]

Connor bit back the urge to shout something defiant and was met with success. He was grateful, honestly, that Angel was here and willing to assist him at all. Old habits were hard to break, but if he wanted to get out of here, he was going to have to push them aside and try to keep a lid on his temper. At least for the time being.

"... alright. I'll be here."

He hated the thought of just waiting. It was dangerously close to feeling helpless, as he waited for someone else to show up and solve his problems.

[holo] No worries! <3

[prophecy_boy]

Connor carefully reached for the indicated device, touching it gingerly as though it might explode on him at any moment. You could never be too careful. He startled when the light in the room began to change; looking up, he spots the newly-revealed door, looking back to the tiny, moving image of Angel as he turned the tablet over in his hands, examining it.

... was Angel driving? He didn't recognize the car.

"... nice wheels."

[holo]

[prophecy_boy]

"Yeah, it's open," Connor confirmed, tightening his hold on the device as he moved towards the door with long strides. He heard movement behind him almost immediately after passing through, and turning on his heel to search for the source, he saw that the door behind him had closed -- and disappeared altogether.

... okay. That was weird.

If he'd noticed Angel's playful jibe, it didn't show. A great deal of teasing was still lost on him. Frowning, he turned his attention back to the image of Angel on the screen. "Not sure what it is about this building. It's kinda weird." If anything, it felt entirely too clean, too sparse.

"Is the whole place like this?"

[holo]

[prophecy_boy]

Connor worked his mouth for a moment, considering asking who or what 'Fritz Lang' may have been, but decided against it. If he asked after every single thing that went over his head, he'd be asking questions until the end of the time.

"Good. This place is kinda... creeping me out. ... it's too clean. And shiny."

[prophecy_boy]

A normal human might not have heard Angel's voice from such a distance, but Connor caught it easily, his head snapping upwards and immediately turning towards the direction he'd heard his name called from. He started off at a run, but forced himself to slow down, as if afraid to prove himself too eager. He spotted Angel approaching what looked like the front doors of the building he'd found himself in, and quickly moved to meet him halfway.

Angel smelled just as he remembered, but somehow less... angry. Even though he'd supposedly been to Taxon before, it seemed as though Connor hadn't made himself an enemy. ... good. That was good. Maybe that would make it easier to make things right.

"Hey," he said awkwardly, the distance between them closing. "You look... different."

He couldn't put his finger on how. Perhaps it was just the mark left behind by experience.

[prophecy_boy]

Connor thought 'tense' was probably putting it mildly. He hadn't passed by a mirror since his arrival, but he could guess that he probably looked much worse for wear. Exhausted, spattered with a fine spray of blood, jeans torn open, and he was almost positive he still felt the tracks left behind by dried tears on his face. It seemed so long since he'd cried them now, and at the same time, mere moments, the scene still vivid in his mind, the image of Cordelia slashing that girl's throat replaying itself every time he let his own thoughts go still for more than a moment. The sight of Darla on the floor in that girl's place. Had that been his own imagination, or had his mother wanted him to see?

He swallowed once, feeling the color drain from his own face.

"I... what happens to the people we leave behind?" he asked, looking up to Angel for some sort of answer. "We were waiting for you. Now that I'm not there, are you..." He trailed off, frowning as he struggled to articulate himself. "What's going to happen to Cordy?"

[prophecy_boy]

The expression that flickered across Connor's face in reply was one of anger, though he fought to suppress it. Losing his temper was something he did far too often, and it hardly ever yielded positive results. Instead of lashing out, he gave a single, stiff nod, accepting Angel's answer for the time being. Was it wrong, he wondered, that he was relieved to have been pulled from that grisly scene? He was still worried about what would become of Cordy, but over the past few days, it had become more and more obvious to him that something was wrong with her. He hadn't known how to get away and make things right. This place had done part of that for him