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Because it would be nice to finish something
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Chapter Nine: Empyrean
Illyria realized when she saw the first column of light that she would soon be coming back to herself.
This marked the first time in her strange, limited new existence where Fred's knowledge had been crucial to her own, personal survival. As God-King of the Primordium, Illyria had never been concerned about the workings of the universe beyond the ambit of its own will. Illyria commanded, thus it was, thus it ever would be. Until, suddenly, it wasn't.
Illyria's body was not Fred's body, but it was constructed from it. It obeyed "natural laws", which Fred had studied and understood and loved for her entire adult life. Those natural laws were fundamentally incompatible with the power of Illyria, and so the body was too. Required to contain something beyond all constraint, Illyria's "shell" cracked and began to release that power. And Wesley used some strange device and sent it away.
For Illyria, that was the end of it. The world was one way, Wesley exerted his will, and the world was another way. If she thought anything of it, she was humiliated by how far she had fallen. Fred, by contrast, had known- with deep certainty- that energy could neither be created nor destroyed. The natural laws of the world that give meaning to the word "place" could not tolerate the power, but there must nonetheless have been somewhere for it to go.
It was Fred's memories that told Illyria what the columns of light must be.
Illyria floated outside the walls of the world, in that place that was not a place, and considered. She was cocooned in a very small bubble of very strange space and time. As before, she could touch the external universe at any point in time, moving forwards and backwards as she would. And, as before, her body could not tolerate the power. She was aware of time passing; she could feel her thoughts moving from one to the next, each following the last. That made a clock, and measured by that clock time was of the essence.
The obvious things first. Illyria exerted her will and caught each of her companions in a bubble of their own. (Had he been aware of the situation, Spike would have taken enormous pleasure in the thought that Angel was, indisputably, the center of his own universe- and completely useless.)
She had known she was going to take the next step as soon as she became aware of the situation.
Illyria exerted her will once more.
In the apartment of Cyvus Vail, Vail was saying something that would very shortly get him killed, and Wesley Wyndam-Pryce had just drawn his last breath. In the instant that Vail died, Wesley vanished.
Chapter Ten: Dallas General Hospital
This was a Fred place, and without really noticing she became Fred as soon as she entered it.
For a panicked moment, she was afraid she wouldn't remember where the emergency room was. As she ran along the corridors, surrounded by the sparkle that meant ordinary time had stopped, she whispered in his ear with Fred's voice.
"I can't give her back to you, Wesley. I'm sorry. It wasn't right,and, and I even care that it wasn't right, and how sick is that? I can't give her back because if she lives, there is no me, and I can't do that, even for you. But I can give you back to yourself, and it's what she would have wanted, and that's going to have to be good enough even if it happens to be what I want too."
She phased in almost on top of a resident who happened to be standing near an empty gurney, who boggled at the sudden apparition of a slight woman with a bleeding man taller than she was in her arms.
"He's been stabbed. He's lost a lot of blood, and he's stopped breathing, and his heart's stopped, but the brain's okay. You can make him well. I fixed it so you can make him well, so help him, please."
And the slight woman was gone.
Chapter Eleven: Hyperion Hotel Reception
Gunn coughed, opened his eyes, and slowly lifted his head.
The room was familiar. So was the furniture- same old couch. The blond woman was new to him, until his recent memories caught up to him. He blinked.
"Oh. Hey. What with all the fighting, I kinda forgot you were around. What happened? And do you realize you're translucent?"
"That absurdly tiny dimension broke up into pieces and then we were here," Anya said. "And if I don't even have that ridiculous parody of a body anymore, this is probably the real world."
"You got kind of a strange way about you, you know that?" Privately, Gunn observed to himself that strange wasn't all bad.
"So I've often been told. I wonder why you woke up before the vampires, since they're stronger than you. Illyria isn't here, which is disconcerting. And you shouldn't be able to see me, either."
"That's just the kind of day I been having. Let's see if we can't wake up the Fang Boys here."
As if on cue, Angel sat up. He looked around, and said, "Home sweet home."
"Looks like. Anya says this is the real world, so there's that."
Angel, bleary-eyed, did a quick census of the room and looked at Gunn quizzically. Then: "Oh. Ghost. Right."
Spike snorted, opened and eye, and flexed to his feet in that way he had.
Anya said, "Hello, can you all hear me, or is it just Gunn?"
Spike briefly toyed with the idea of playing dumb, then reluctantly discarded it. "Clear as a sodding bell, love."
Angel smiled and said, "You're coming in five by five." Then, after a moment: "That means yes."
"Oh. Good."
"I don't know about you lot, but if I don't get some blood in me, I'll... well, I don't know. I want blood," Spike said- that last sounding more petulant than he likely intended.
Chapter Twelve: Hyperion Kitchen
Angel put down his mug and said, "I think the first thing here is finding that Ambrose guy's office."
Anya said, "1334 Commerce Park Road, Chula Vista, California, 91909. Do you need telephone numbers and e-mail addresses?"
Angel blinked. "Nope."
Gunn said, "That's down near San Diego. Does anyone remember if we parked one of the necro-tempered cars here?"
Anya screamed, a long shrill scream nothing like her speaking voice.
Gunn saw her burst into flames, and then didn't see her anymore.
to be continued
I understand Issue 2 of the Season Eight comic is out. I haven't seen it yet, so don't spoil me, please.
Chapter Nine: Empyrean
Illyria realized when she saw the first column of light that she would soon be coming back to herself.
This marked the first time in her strange, limited new existence where Fred's knowledge had been crucial to her own, personal survival. As God-King of the Primordium, Illyria had never been concerned about the workings of the universe beyond the ambit of its own will. Illyria commanded, thus it was, thus it ever would be. Until, suddenly, it wasn't.
Illyria's body was not Fred's body, but it was constructed from it. It obeyed "natural laws", which Fred had studied and understood and loved for her entire adult life. Those natural laws were fundamentally incompatible with the power of Illyria, and so the body was too. Required to contain something beyond all constraint, Illyria's "shell" cracked and began to release that power. And Wesley used some strange device and sent it away.
For Illyria, that was the end of it. The world was one way, Wesley exerted his will, and the world was another way. If she thought anything of it, she was humiliated by how far she had fallen. Fred, by contrast, had known- with deep certainty- that energy could neither be created nor destroyed. The natural laws of the world that give meaning to the word "place" could not tolerate the power, but there must nonetheless have been somewhere for it to go.
It was Fred's memories that told Illyria what the columns of light must be.
Illyria floated outside the walls of the world, in that place that was not a place, and considered. She was cocooned in a very small bubble of very strange space and time. As before, she could touch the external universe at any point in time, moving forwards and backwards as she would. And, as before, her body could not tolerate the power. She was aware of time passing; she could feel her thoughts moving from one to the next, each following the last. That made a clock, and measured by that clock time was of the essence.
The obvious things first. Illyria exerted her will and caught each of her companions in a bubble of their own. (Had he been aware of the situation, Spike would have taken enormous pleasure in the thought that Angel was, indisputably, the center of his own universe- and completely useless.)
She had known she was going to take the next step as soon as she became aware of the situation.
Illyria exerted her will once more.
In the apartment of Cyvus Vail, Vail was saying something that would very shortly get him killed, and Wesley Wyndam-Pryce had just drawn his last breath. In the instant that Vail died, Wesley vanished.
Chapter Ten: Dallas General Hospital
This was a Fred place, and without really noticing she became Fred as soon as she entered it.
For a panicked moment, she was afraid she wouldn't remember where the emergency room was. As she ran along the corridors, surrounded by the sparkle that meant ordinary time had stopped, she whispered in his ear with Fred's voice.
"I can't give her back to you, Wesley. I'm sorry. It wasn't right,and, and I even care that it wasn't right, and how sick is that? I can't give her back because if she lives, there is no me, and I can't do that, even for you. But I can give you back to yourself, and it's what she would have wanted, and that's going to have to be good enough even if it happens to be what I want too."
She phased in almost on top of a resident who happened to be standing near an empty gurney, who boggled at the sudden apparition of a slight woman with a bleeding man taller than she was in her arms.
"He's been stabbed. He's lost a lot of blood, and he's stopped breathing, and his heart's stopped, but the brain's okay. You can make him well. I fixed it so you can make him well, so help him, please."
And the slight woman was gone.
Chapter Eleven: Hyperion Hotel Reception
Gunn coughed, opened his eyes, and slowly lifted his head.
The room was familiar. So was the furniture- same old couch. The blond woman was new to him, until his recent memories caught up to him. He blinked.
"Oh. Hey. What with all the fighting, I kinda forgot you were around. What happened? And do you realize you're translucent?"
"That absurdly tiny dimension broke up into pieces and then we were here," Anya said. "And if I don't even have that ridiculous parody of a body anymore, this is probably the real world."
"You got kind of a strange way about you, you know that?" Privately, Gunn observed to himself that strange wasn't all bad.
"So I've often been told. I wonder why you woke up before the vampires, since they're stronger than you. Illyria isn't here, which is disconcerting. And you shouldn't be able to see me, either."
"That's just the kind of day I been having. Let's see if we can't wake up the Fang Boys here."
As if on cue, Angel sat up. He looked around, and said, "Home sweet home."
"Looks like. Anya says this is the real world, so there's that."
Angel, bleary-eyed, did a quick census of the room and looked at Gunn quizzically. Then: "Oh. Ghost. Right."
Spike snorted, opened and eye, and flexed to his feet in that way he had.
Anya said, "Hello, can you all hear me, or is it just Gunn?"
Spike briefly toyed with the idea of playing dumb, then reluctantly discarded it. "Clear as a sodding bell, love."
Angel smiled and said, "You're coming in five by five." Then, after a moment: "That means yes."
"Oh. Good."
"I don't know about you lot, but if I don't get some blood in me, I'll... well, I don't know. I want blood," Spike said- that last sounding more petulant than he likely intended.
Chapter Twelve: Hyperion Kitchen
Angel put down his mug and said, "I think the first thing here is finding that Ambrose guy's office."
Anya said, "1334 Commerce Park Road, Chula Vista, California, 91909. Do you need telephone numbers and e-mail addresses?"
Angel blinked. "Nope."
Gunn said, "That's down near San Diego. Does anyone remember if we parked one of the necro-tempered cars here?"
Anya screamed, a long shrill scream nothing like her speaking voice.
Gunn saw her burst into flames, and then didn't see her anymore.
to be continued
I understand Issue 2 of the Season Eight comic is out. I haven't seen it yet, so don't spoil me, please.
no subject
I have a feeling Joss would be upset that you've brought back both characters he killed off in the finales, but I like it.
For a geek joke, I think Ambrose's address should be 1337. He's "leet".
no subject
I'm not doing a great Fred yet, but I'll keep working on it.
I hate it when people writing Spike toss in a British curse word at every possible opportnity, but Spike does curse a lot. You can see the bind I'm in.
And the leet thing? Yeah. We're not gonna be doing that.
no subject
no subject