fandomhighdorms | The Roof, Wednesday Afternoon

Wesley hadn't ~~handwavily~~ gotten back to Fandom until late last night, and he was still in something of a funk about everything that had happened.

Fired. Again.

The last time he'd been fired, he'd been sent here as punishment. Now he'd been fired from the job he'd intended to take on after graduation, and he... hadn't applied to university. Hadn't even thought of it very much, to be honest; the idea of going away to university now after having worked on the Hellmouth and gone to school at Fandom and worked for Angel for two years, dealing with all the crises that emerged along the way (the mayor's Ascension, Panem, the rock, the disappearances and memory alterations, Faith...) was... a bit preposterous, really. But now he had nothing to do but possibly see if his father might take him back in, and, well. Wesley didn't really much want to do that at all.

So. Here he stood. Brooding. Because that would solve the problem.

At least he wasn't drinking?

[[open roof of broodiness, la.]]

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Wesley blinked. "Wh-- no. 'Fired,' it means -- to be discharged from one's employment." Damn it, Loki.

"For any particular reason?"

"Yes," said Wesley irritably. He sighed, almost started to vent some more, and then said, "Do you really wish to sit through this?"

"Yes," Loki replied after a moment's thought. He could always walk away if it bored him.

"Fine," Wesley said. "My employer's been acting rashly, my colleagues and I attempted to reason with him, and he discharged us."

Angel, you douche.

"So, in reality, he fired himself," Loki replied thoughtfully.

Wesley paused.

"I'm sorry?"

"Are you incapable of continuing your job without him?"

Well...

"That depends on whether I hoped to be any good at it."

Loki stared at him for a long moment, waiting for Wesley to draw his own conclusions on this.

"No," said Wesley after a moment. "I'm not incapable, but -- the resources Angel has, and Cordelia's visions; I'm -- I could hardly hope to accopmlish nearly as much while working autonomously."

All things considered, he really made a crappy rogue demon hunter.

"Which one is your employer?" That was the important part.

"Angel. He's -- a vampire with a soul, a Champion, that sort of thing. Rather difficult to measure up."

Loki made a face. "How nice for him. Champions, so terribly hard to come by."

"He's the subject of a prophecy," Wesley said mildly. Well, until season five came along and the writers fell in love with Spike, anyway. "Meant to play a major role in the apocalypse." He shrugged, and added darkly, "I'm in high school."

"Which apocalypse." He was talking to Loki after all.

Wesley gave him a curious look, then shook his head to clear his thoughts. "Oh, right," he said, as if just now recalling who exactly he was talking about. "Ah. Well, the eventual one, I suppose. My universe is -- well, there've been a few, but all narrowly averted. But as far as I could tell from my translation, the one in the prophecy is meant to be rather final."

"They always are," Loki replied, flopping back on the ledge.

"Not in a universe with a Hellmouth," Wesley said wryly.

"Truly?" That was strange if you asked him.

"It's just sloppy terminology," Wes explained. "Really, they ought to stop calling them that when they occur once a year and are quickly resolved."

"Only the one?" Hey, he was the sort to slip between worlds.

Wesley frowned. "What, are you accustomed to more?"

SORRY, WESLEY. "Of course!"

"Well... how many?"

(no subject)

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