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madimpossibledreamerMain Points:
Jojo's Bizarre Adventure/Buffy the Vampire Slayer AU
Chapter Summary: Wolfram & Hart deal with the damage Buffy, Giorno, and Oingo did, as well as another mysterious visitor.
Word Count: 1119
Rating: Teen for Wolfram & Hart doing W&H things
Note: HERE THERE PROBABLY BE BUFFY/JJBA SPOILERS
“Yes, my lady, I’m very sorry,” he mumbles, shaking, and it’s enough subservience to get her to smile—for the moment, anyway. Her tail still scratches him as she passes, altering her form just slightly for an attack, and he shivers further.
He stays against the wall where he’s crumbled, finally rubbing his arm where she’d cut when she’s out of sight and won’t take offense. He waits a full two minutes until it becomes clear that no one else will come down the hallway, because he’s under no illusions that he’s immune from being expendable, just because he’s useful. He can achieve just as much as a zombie, and it’s treated as a useful punishment in company culture, and if he messes this up he certainly will be due something. Maybe just torture.
Once he’s ready, he digs his fingers into the cracks in one of the wood panels, and rather than being hard, it turns soft, bubbling around his fingertips like some sort of sentient slime. And then, the wall swings open, just enough for him to slip inside, walking with sure, confident steps down the corridor, each twist and turn taken without hesitation. He even expertly avoids the walls, because others can hear him if he knocks into them carelessly. It’s all the more impressive given that it’s pitch black in the corridor. The darkness is cold, somehow blacker than a moonless midnight, and he occasionally feels what might be phantom touches now and then, so it might be demonic or magic.
Who’s he kidding, he knows where he works, better than anyone. It’s definitely demonic or magic in origin. But ignoring the fool he plays for everyone else in the office, he’s made of sterner stuff than that, and won’t flinch on his path.
Finally, he gets to the office, and light suddenly exists, from a fancy lamp on the desk. He settles in at his own desk, leaning back in the chair that attempts to swallow him (not, luckily, in a demonic or magical way, it would be annoying otherwise) and putting his feet on the desk. Sharing the desk in the main office with Francis is a bother, but if he’s lucky, for not much longer. And then he grabs the phone.
He listens to the static for a minute, two, and allows himself to relax so it’s not a waste of time. The instant it changes, he sits up a little.
“I’m glad to see you’re enjoying your office,” Wesley states, and he doesn’t waste either of their times by asking how the man knows.
“Moreso poisoning the woman who held it before me, but the office is nice, too, I suppose.” She’d been too soft, too trusting, and really should have known better than to go out on a date with someone else in the company. Then again, perhaps the telepathy was a bit cheating—except this is Wolfram & Hart, and cheating is every bit as valid. No one can hope to make it far on goodwill alone. Or efficiency. She’d been good at spying and getting information, but in the end clutched a little too obsessively at her humanity; foolish, in the end, as she sooner or later would surrender it the moment she signed her employment contract.
Wesley chuckles. “Well, I hope you like making reports as much as you do killing people.”
“Yes, sir, it’s all over, but we’ve learned a little from their visit. The Slayer had noticed the phenomenon causing the fighting before, so it’s not one of theirs. It’s entirely possible it’s an internal faction.” It’s almost impossible to rule out an internal faction, and from Wesley’s disgruntled noise, he knows this truth as well as anyone.
“I am correct in that it was the leader of Passione himself who visited our humble offices?” the head of Special Projects asks, and Sawyer wonders why he bothers to ask, given that he clearly knows the answer.
“Yes, and The Slayer. And some unimportant Stand User whose only power is to disguise them. It might have worked, but fortunately his Stand Khnum does not also disguise thoughts. You should know, The Slayer had one occurrence of wondering if there was a telepath in the group, so it’s possible the information I gained was fed to me.” It had been a moment of mutual anxiety for them both.
“I can’t tell you for sure, and the Valley Girl act is merely that, but I don’t think even Buffy Summers could manage such an act in her own mind. Tell me, did she know anything about the Senior Partners?” His telepathy doesn’t fully work when the person isn’t in the same room, a fact of some disappointment for Wesley when he’d first been recruited, but he gets a hint of worry over the line despite none being present in Wesley’s tone, and…that itself is worrying. It would have to be strong emotion for him to be able to read it in such a way.
“Sir?” he asks, concerned, and Wesley hesitates. Hesitates. Before smoothly pressing on.
“The Ram is no more.” It takes a moment or two for the words to sink in.
“What—”
“The Senior Partner was inspecting the Silicon Valley Branch. A report was due, and when it was overdue and no communication was possible, a few employees were sent to investigate. They were all dead—and none could be revived, despite the contract. It’s easy enough to explain the demons—we have been following the reports of the Siphon, as I would hope you have done as well—but fact that the power worked on the humans and The Ram is more troubling.” Sawyer believed he didn’t know fear. Now, he suspects, he understands exactly what that emotion is, in himself rather than in those he blackmails or kills.
“Can it work on souls as well as magic?” he suggests, voice breaking without his permission.
“I would have to imagine that it does, or perhaps every human has a portion of magic that is necessary for their life to continue. But…” Wesley stops with a chuckle, “…that is a little too Star Wars for my taste. Given that this is a surprise, I would gather The Slayer did not know.”
“No, she did not, but she did have other relevant information,” the lawyer responds after a pause to gather his composure again, and the silence suggests he continue.
Jojo's Bizarre Adventure/Buffy the Vampire Slayer AU
Chapter Summary: Wolfram & Hart deal with the damage Buffy, Giorno, and Oingo did, as well as another mysterious visitor.
Word Count: 1119
Rating: Teen for Wolfram & Hart doing W&H things
Note: HERE THERE PROBABLY BE BUFFY/JJBA SPOILERS
“Get out of my way!” She’s tall and intimidating in that fake of a suit (Sawyers knows full well that Ijuth is a demoness and as good as the suit looks it’s actually woven from treated human skin), and he complies immediately, shrinking against the wall.
“Yes, my lady, I’m very sorry,” he mumbles, shaking, and it’s enough subservience to get her to smile—for the moment, anyway. Her tail still scratches him as she passes, altering her form just slightly for an attack, and he shivers further.
He stays against the wall where he’s crumbled, finally rubbing his arm where she’d cut when she’s out of sight and won’t take offense. He waits a full two minutes until it becomes clear that no one else will come down the hallway, because he’s under no illusions that he’s immune from being expendable, just because he’s useful. He can achieve just as much as a zombie, and it’s treated as a useful punishment in company culture, and if he messes this up he certainly will be due something. Maybe just torture.
Once he’s ready, he digs his fingers into the cracks in one of the wood panels, and rather than being hard, it turns soft, bubbling around his fingertips like some sort of sentient slime. And then, the wall swings open, just enough for him to slip inside, walking with sure, confident steps down the corridor, each twist and turn taken without hesitation. He even expertly avoids the walls, because others can hear him if he knocks into them carelessly. It’s all the more impressive given that it’s pitch black in the corridor. The darkness is cold, somehow blacker than a moonless midnight, and he occasionally feels what might be phantom touches now and then, so it might be demonic or magic.
Who’s he kidding, he knows where he works, better than anyone. It’s definitely demonic or magic in origin. But ignoring the fool he plays for everyone else in the office, he’s made of sterner stuff than that, and won’t flinch on his path.
Finally, he gets to the office, and light suddenly exists, from a fancy lamp on the desk. He settles in at his own desk, leaning back in the chair that attempts to swallow him (not, luckily, in a demonic or magical way, it would be annoying otherwise) and putting his feet on the desk. Sharing the desk in the main office with Francis is a bother, but if he’s lucky, for not much longer. And then he grabs the phone.
He listens to the static for a minute, two, and allows himself to relax so it’s not a waste of time. The instant it changes, he sits up a little.
“I’m glad to see you’re enjoying your office,” Wesley states, and he doesn’t waste either of their times by asking how the man knows.
“Moreso poisoning the woman who held it before me, but the office is nice, too, I suppose.” She’d been too soft, too trusting, and really should have known better than to go out on a date with someone else in the company. Then again, perhaps the telepathy was a bit cheating—except this is Wolfram & Hart, and cheating is every bit as valid. No one can hope to make it far on goodwill alone. Or efficiency. She’d been good at spying and getting information, but in the end clutched a little too obsessively at her humanity; foolish, in the end, as she sooner or later would surrender it the moment she signed her employment contract.
Wesley chuckles. “Well, I hope you like making reports as much as you do killing people.”
“Yes, sir, it’s all over, but we’ve learned a little from their visit. The Slayer had noticed the phenomenon causing the fighting before, so it’s not one of theirs. It’s entirely possible it’s an internal faction.” It’s almost impossible to rule out an internal faction, and from Wesley’s disgruntled noise, he knows this truth as well as anyone.
“I am correct in that it was the leader of Passione himself who visited our humble offices?” the head of Special Projects asks, and Sawyer wonders why he bothers to ask, given that he clearly knows the answer.
“Yes, and The Slayer. And some unimportant Stand User whose only power is to disguise them. It might have worked, but fortunately his Stand Khnum does not also disguise thoughts. You should know, The Slayer had one occurrence of wondering if there was a telepath in the group, so it’s possible the information I gained was fed to me.” It had been a moment of mutual anxiety for them both.
“I can’t tell you for sure, and the Valley Girl act is merely that, but I don’t think even Buffy Summers could manage such an act in her own mind. Tell me, did she know anything about the Senior Partners?” His telepathy doesn’t fully work when the person isn’t in the same room, a fact of some disappointment for Wesley when he’d first been recruited, but he gets a hint of worry over the line despite none being present in Wesley’s tone, and…that itself is worrying. It would have to be strong emotion for him to be able to read it in such a way.
“Sir?” he asks, concerned, and Wesley hesitates. Hesitates. Before smoothly pressing on.
“The Ram is no more.” It takes a moment or two for the words to sink in.
“What—”
“The Senior Partner was inspecting the Silicon Valley Branch. A report was due, and when it was overdue and no communication was possible, a few employees were sent to investigate. They were all dead—and none could be revived, despite the contract. It’s easy enough to explain the demons—we have been following the reports of the Siphon, as I would hope you have done as well—but fact that the power worked on the humans and The Ram is more troubling.” Sawyer believed he didn’t know fear. Now, he suspects, he understands exactly what that emotion is, in himself rather than in those he blackmails or kills.
“Can it work on souls as well as magic?” he suggests, voice breaking without his permission.
“I would have to imagine that it does, or perhaps every human has a portion of magic that is necessary for their life to continue. But…” Wesley stops with a chuckle, “…that is a little too Star Wars for my taste. Given that this is a surprise, I would gather The Slayer did not know.”
“No, she did not, but she did have other relevant information,” the lawyer responds after a pause to gather his composure again, and the silence suggests he continue.
