Angel (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
vampdetective) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
entrancelogs2013-09-29 11:47 pm
vampdetective) wrote in entrancelogs2013-09-29 11:47 pm
You may find yourself living in a shotgun shack;
Who: Angel and YOU!
Where: Around the mansion as he gets his bearings andlurks in hallways looks around.
When: Evening, 9/29.
Rating: PG for now!
Summary: Angel arrives in Wonderland and is pretty sure that it's yet another cracked-out hell dimension.
The Story:
Angel’s first thought upon waking had been ‘hell dimension.’ The change of scenery had been sudden, the last thing he remembered being just about every monster imaginable crawling their way up through the that hellgate and preparing to let loose on Los Angeles. Their numbers had been thinned considerably. Gunn had been wounded, bleeding out but still standing, still ready to fight. Spike and Illyria were there, prepared to fight alongside him as they went forward to face impossible odds. Lorne was gone. Wesley hadn’t made it. It had only been the four them. Four against the forces of Hell and all that the pit had to offer.
It hadn’t mattered that they wouldn’t win. They were going to go down fighting. That was what people like them did. They were supposed to be champions. If nothing else, they would die like champions, throwing off Wolfram & Hart’s yolk that they had so willingly put on just a year earlier. That whole year had been wrong in so many ways. They had been able to fool themselves into thinking they were using this opportunity to do good, but Cordelia had seen right through it. Hell, even Spike saw through it. Trying to defeat an enemy from within the belly of the beast meant you had been swallowed.
So they’d decided to claw their way out. Hell or high water, they would brace themselves for the counter attack and go down fighting – but it would be one hell of a fight.
“Personally, I kind of want to slay the dragon.”
He couldn't remember anything after that. Climbing up on the beasts back, and then— and then what? This place? If he was dead, truly dead, this was one hell of an afterlife. He’d been killed in a back alley, buried in the earth only to rise again. He’d been impaled and sent to hell for some untold number of years, tormented mercilessly until some power had seen fit to bring him back. Death wasn’t exactly new for him, but this place was like nothing he’d ever seen before.
Hence ‘hell dimension.’ Had someone opened a portal, meant to take him and his allies out of the fight? If that was the case, it would have taken one heck of a bump to the head to knock him unconscious for the duration – either that or a doozy of a spell. He’d been to some pretty strange places in his long life, but this one was singular. Walls all but lined with mirrors that held no reflection – no change there, he surmised – with a décor that was strongly reminiscent of a funhouse. Or maybe Lorne’s place.
He grunted softly, rubbing at the back of his head as he began the slow and awkward shuffle down the corridor he’d found himself in. The countless doors reminded him of the hotel, except—
Except these rooms weren’t empty. Not all of them, at least. He could smell people beyond them, some human, some otherworldly, but all of them alive, breathing. He could hear their beating hearts from a distance, and it was distracting. He was injured, his clothes tattered and bloodstained, soaked through from the storm that had been raging when the battle began. He would heal quickly enough, but he would feel a whole lot better a lot faster if he found something to eat. The smell of blood and the faint but tempting thud of so many heartbeats would ebb away once he had. Something told him he wouldn’t be lucky enough to find a friendly butcher or a stray pig anywhere nearby, though. That presented a bit of a problem. And what about the allies he’d left behind? Were they here, too, scattered?
Damn it. He hated portals. Nothing good ever came from portal jumping.
Where: Around the mansion as he gets his bearings and
When: Evening, 9/29.
Rating: PG for now!
Summary: Angel arrives in Wonderland and is pretty sure that it's yet another cracked-out hell dimension.
The Story:
Angel’s first thought upon waking had been ‘hell dimension.’ The change of scenery had been sudden, the last thing he remembered being just about every monster imaginable crawling their way up through the that hellgate and preparing to let loose on Los Angeles. Their numbers had been thinned considerably. Gunn had been wounded, bleeding out but still standing, still ready to fight. Spike and Illyria were there, prepared to fight alongside him as they went forward to face impossible odds. Lorne was gone. Wesley hadn’t made it. It had only been the four them. Four against the forces of Hell and all that the pit had to offer.
It hadn’t mattered that they wouldn’t win. They were going to go down fighting. That was what people like them did. They were supposed to be champions. If nothing else, they would die like champions, throwing off Wolfram & Hart’s yolk that they had so willingly put on just a year earlier. That whole year had been wrong in so many ways. They had been able to fool themselves into thinking they were using this opportunity to do good, but Cordelia had seen right through it. Hell, even Spike saw through it. Trying to defeat an enemy from within the belly of the beast meant you had been swallowed.
So they’d decided to claw their way out. Hell or high water, they would brace themselves for the counter attack and go down fighting – but it would be one hell of a fight.
“Personally, I kind of want to slay the dragon.”
He couldn't remember anything after that. Climbing up on the beasts back, and then— and then what? This place? If he was dead, truly dead, this was one hell of an afterlife. He’d been killed in a back alley, buried in the earth only to rise again. He’d been impaled and sent to hell for some untold number of years, tormented mercilessly until some power had seen fit to bring him back. Death wasn’t exactly new for him, but this place was like nothing he’d ever seen before.
Hence ‘hell dimension.’ Had someone opened a portal, meant to take him and his allies out of the fight? If that was the case, it would have taken one heck of a bump to the head to knock him unconscious for the duration – either that or a doozy of a spell. He’d been to some pretty strange places in his long life, but this one was singular. Walls all but lined with mirrors that held no reflection – no change there, he surmised – with a décor that was strongly reminiscent of a funhouse. Or maybe Lorne’s place.
He grunted softly, rubbing at the back of his head as he began the slow and awkward shuffle down the corridor he’d found himself in. The countless doors reminded him of the hotel, except—
Except these rooms weren’t empty. Not all of them, at least. He could smell people beyond them, some human, some otherworldly, but all of them alive, breathing. He could hear their beating hearts from a distance, and it was distracting. He was injured, his clothes tattered and bloodstained, soaked through from the storm that had been raging when the battle began. He would heal quickly enough, but he would feel a whole lot better a lot faster if he found something to eat. The smell of blood and the faint but tempting thud of so many heartbeats would ebb away once he had. Something told him he wouldn’t be lucky enough to find a friendly butcher or a stray pig anywhere nearby, though. That presented a bit of a problem. And what about the allies he’d left behind? Were they here, too, scattered?
Damn it. He hated portals. Nothing good ever came from portal jumping.
no subject
Losing Cordelia had hurt so much more. She was so much of the reason why he was who he was. She made him a Champion. He never would have gotten there on his own.
"Things never really go the way we plan them, do they?" Their meeting on the bluffs. His search for her when he'd come back from his summer out at sea. Those hadn't gone the way he would have liked. When she herself returned, nothing was the way it should have been. Her goodbye? There had been some closure there, but that wasn't the way things were supposed to go, either. Not as far as he was concerned.
They should have had more time.
"Do you think..." He paused, then cleared his throat before continuing. "Do you think this place is some kind of second chance?"
Or third, or fourth, or fifth. He wasn't sure how many he was on now.
no subject
But his question of second chances, muttered out in a way that only Angel could make endearing, was a reason why she pushed herself to sometimes finish a book. Sometimes, the ending were sad and completely anticlimactic, but the sequel offered them a much better journey. "I don't think, Angel," she smiled, kindly. The words felt familiar on her tongue, something she had said to him, years ago. "I know. And if I know the Powers That Be, whether in L.A. or in this rabbit hole, this is a chance of a lifetime."
For her, anyway. And she knew, that if he was on the same brainwave as her, as he always seemed to be, even after a year apart, that it was for him, too. She was a little too scared to jump at it.
"And, honestly?" Cordelia wasn't sure if going this far was overstepping a boundary, but, she was known for her honesty, and never holding back. And, she knew, she didn't want to. Not when she didn't have much to return home to, anyway. "I'm not planning on screwing it up."
Whether she was referring to them or her or simply everything, she wasn't going to specify. Not unless he asked. And Cordelia, despite knowing Angel inside out, found it a touch exciting that she didn't know whether or not he'd ask her to specify. Some things were better left unknown; the visions gave her spoilers galore, but, sometimes, Cordelia liked to watch things unravel organically.
Wrapping this one up, but my heart is so full of feelings. <3
"The chance of a lifetime," he echoed thoughtfully, ducking his head and rubbing at the back of his neck before he looked up to meet her gaze again. Considering how many years he'd lived, that was a pretty tall order -- but he had to agree.
He had a lot of regrets. He'd alphabetized them and filed them away over the years, looking back on them now and then to try and keep himself from making the same mistakes all over again, but there was nothing he'd ever regretted more than not letting Cordelia know what he felt when he'd still had the chance.
"Then I guess we'd better not waste it."