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Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in Wesley Wyndham-Pryce's LiveJournal:

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    Saturday, May 1st, 2004
    7:16 pm
    [This journal is closed. Wes's journal is now to be found at [info]_wyndam_pryce_.]
    Wednesday, March 3rd, 2004
    10:19 pm
    Of the many absurdities I've encountered in the past twenty-four hours, the supreme one has to be that a short while ago, I was speaking of hope. Try as I might, the only one of those I can summon forth is that I may have gone completely mad.

    I keep coming back to the same image. I'm unable to shake it; it stays in my mind, an idee fixe. I picture it, unlikely enough, as some quasi-phantom form, a wisp of cloud or smoke that bears her general outline. Perhaps even part of her face is visible. As I imagine it, I see it licked, and finally consumed, with flames. Ridiculous Biblical tableau.

    Her soul. Eradicated, for all eternity. She's been robbed of whatever perpetual existence follows this one, and is now destined to experience nothing but infinite oblivion.

    I envy her.

    Current Mood: I don't grasp your meaning.
    Monday, March 1st, 2004
    11:00 pm
    Then I defy you, stars.
    Powerlessness has never been a novelty to me. There are times when it feels like I've spent all my life standing helplessly by as events spiraled out of control. Too often have I borne witness to those closest to me or those entrusted to my care swept away by circumstances that I was either incapable of preventing or had inadvertently set in motion. But I bore it all, assuring myself that all I needed was a little more experience, a little more understanding, and next time I would be ready. I would be able to anticipate and foil whatever twists fate had marshalled.

    And now.

    She was so light, by the end. I wanted nothing more than to clutch her to me with all my might, to somehow anchor that delicate spirit to her body, keep it from being summoned to whatever firmament was calling it forth. But I dared not, for fear of fracturing her birdlike frame. All my books, all my years of study, of accumulated knowledge. What did it avail me?

    This will not stand. I'll none of it.

    Too many. Too many lost, too many mistakes, too many times too late. This is the end. I do not care what the cost is any longer. I only know that this will not happen. I will try any avenue, make any sacrifice, but I will not let her be taken. Not like this.

    I'm going to save her. I'm going to expel this thing, and make it wish it had never risen up from whatever dark corner it has been lodged. Then I will find whoever may be responsible for this and hang them from the ceiling by their arteries.

    Current Mood: enraged
    Current Music: It's not her. But it will be.
    Thursday, February 26th, 2004
    12:03 am
    This has to be a dream.

    Please, God, let it be a dr--

    Current Mood: numb
    Wednesday, February 25th, 2004
    8:34 pm
    Transport.
    Goodness, has it actually been a week? I can barely account for the time gone.

    Things have certainly kept up their current pace here at Wolfram & Hart, so she and I have had to find whatever time we can to explore the changed dynamics between us. We've been finding a myriad of excuses to visit each others' offices. I do my best to prevent my work from suffering, but the mere sight of her hair, curled like smoke, or her dazzling smile is enough to send all research-related thoughts out of my head. I'm not sure if anyone else has noticed. I'm even less sure that I care.

    I suppose everyone has the dream of the fantasy girl, the one we gaze upon from afar, who saunters through their life oblivious to our affections. We remain quiet, convinced any blandishment from our corner would be a great black smudge on the brilliant canvas of their lives, and we can't stand to stain such beauty. For fools like us, our only hope is that someday this great virtuoso will turn about, gaze at us, and decide that we are no less than the missing element that will complete their masterpiece. The odds of this are quite low, and the potential of a bitter, solitary end proportionally high, a fact I've been all too aware of. Toward that end, I can only express overflowing gratitude to whatever Powers there are for my deliverance.

    Fred? I have something of a walkabout assignment to do. Care to join me?

    Current Mood: ecstatic
    Current Music: Schumann, "Carnaval" (Michelangeli)
    Wednesday, February 18th, 2004
    11:42 pm
    Well. Now that's what I call unambiguous.

    Current Mood: pleased
    Saturday, February 14th, 2004
    11:40 pm
    There's certainly been an awful lot of racket in the building today. Whatever can be happening?

    Oh, well. Someone would have come and got me if it was anything too important.

    Current Mood: confused
    Current Music: Wagner, "Parsifal" (Solti/VPO)
    Thursday, February 12th, 2004
    1:51 pm
    It's been a good four years since I was bound and gagged. I can't say it was an experience I cared to repeat.

    Current Mood: annoyed
    Current Music: Schumann, "Sym. No. 3" (Harnoncourt/COE)
    Saturday, February 7th, 2004
    4:13 pm
    A Service.
    The funeral's in a few hours. I've agreed to be a pallbearer; it seems only fitting when you consider the number of times she's carried us. I've also been locked away most of the past few days, working on what you can see below. It's not at all complete to my satisfaction; she deserved so much more than my trifling skill with words can compile. But as Harmony has made all the arrangements, and Lorne is taking care of the cosmetic end of things, it only remains for me to do my part.

    Here's the text. If anyone has any remarks or suggestions, they'll be gladly accepted.

    ( An all-too-inadequate offering )

    A final word of thanks to all those who wished us well over the past few days. It's meant a great deal.

    Current Mood: morose
    Current Music: Mahler, "Das Lied Von Der Erde" (Klemperer/NPO)
    Thursday, February 5th, 2004
    10:38 am
    Music, when soft voices die,
    Vibrates in the memory--
    Odours, when sweet violets sicken,
    Live within the sense they quicken.

    Rose leaves, when the rose is dead,
    Are heaped for the beloved's bed;
    And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone,
    Love itself shall slumber on.

    --Percy Bysshe Shelley

    Current Mood: crushed
    Current Music: Gorecki, "Sym. No. 3" (Upshaw/London Symphonietta)
    Sunday, February 1st, 2004
    11:42 pm
    Questionable Allies.
    Well, little has changed regarding the Eve situation since my last update; the only new development is that her whereabouts are currently unknown. And I have to admit some puzzlement toward Gunn, who has been as suspicious of Eve as any of us, suddenly calling for caution in sanctioning her. On one hand, his approach Is logical from the perspective of high-placed partners in a corporate structure. However, I'm not sure that the old rules are as obsolete as he would insist. One has to wonder if his newfound security isn't interfering with his ability to prioritize. And so it goes, with us second-guessing each other's choices and motives with ever-greater intensity.

    We were distracted from this complication, sizable enough in itself, to be presented with a new danger. Intelligence was received about a girl who'd broken free from a mental instution, seemingly the victim of demon possession. I didn't bother reminding Angel that I'd been witness to at least one possession case myself, although that one hardly turned out to be routine. But it was just as well, because it turned out to be something quite different.

    It seems that the battle last summer that rendered the hellmouth in Sunnydale closed had after-effects we were unaware of. Due, apparently, to Willow's magic, there are now not just one or two but thousands, even tens of thousands, of currently active Slayers populating the earth. It makes one almost dizzy with possibilities. Buffy et al. have, we're told, begun the gargantuan task of rounding them up, involving all their members on peripatic journeys to every corner of the globe. Would that we could assist in this undertaking, but see below for the reasons preventing that.

    All this was told to us by a young man named Andrew, a rather foppish, Fauntleroy-like lad even by Watcher standards. Not the representative I would have pictured Giles sending, although it does speak volumes for their regard for us at this stage. I will admit to some surprise that Buffy was so completely unwilling to give Angel the benefit of the doubt, after all they've shared. And I have to admit to being somewhat injured by Andrew's words, although I suppose I shouldn't let it bother me. Honestly, I'm well aware that my showing in Sunnydale was poor, but Giles might have allowed for some chance for improvement. I don't suppose Andrew will happen to mention who, exactly, subdued their target for them.

    Still, if it brings some people amusement. It's amazing how people can know you for so long, and never see more of you than they choose. I suppose I'm a fool to hope for change.

    Current Mood: annoyed
    Current Music: Schubert, "Sym. No. 9" (Furtwängler/BPO)
    Sunday, January 25th, 2004
    8:47 pm
    Who on earth are Crockett and Tubbs?
    Slightly odd occurrence today. My eleven o'clock had called to cancel, and I decided to get out of the office for a bit. I went around the corner to a counter restaurant and ordered some fish and chips, or rather French fries, if that's still the proper American term. Struck up a conversation with the chap next to me. We ended up having a great deal in common; we were both expatriates (he was from Canada originally), we'd both moved from a small operation to a larger company (he'd been in some manner of dot-com that had gone under a couple of years ago), and we'd both had recent troublesome episodes with our assistants (his was protesting having to work overtime, and demanding a copy of his job description from the head HR office). As we were talking, it occurred to me how completely ordinary my life had become. In all my years of training, of being a Watcher, of fighting alongside Angel, I had always been involved with things that were difficult, if not impossible for the general public to relate to. The effect was not without its isolating factors. Now, I'm a research consultant at a law firm. What could be more commonplace?

    ( But then again )

    Current Mood: contemplative
    Current Music: Chopin, "Prelude No. 10" (Argerich)
    Wednesday, January 14th, 2004
    6:13 pm
    I'll be in my office if anyone needs me.

    Let's try not to make too much of a fuss, hmm?

    Current Mood: content
    Current Music: Beethoven, "Sonata No. 23" (Gilels)
    Saturday, January 10th, 2004
    9:58 pm
    London.
    It's been a relaxing holiday. I've allowed myself the opportunity to brush up on my Durant, gone for constitutionals using this remarkable iPod device that Fred recommended to me, and did absolutely nothing whatsoever with regards to vampires, demons, cyborgs, or anything remotely related. Or for that matter, anything remotely productive at all.

    I've rented a small room in the Kings Row area, the one place in London I can be sure not to run into anyone I know. Which is ironic, because I thought I saw that Abrams fellow on the street the other day. If it was, it would almost feel like an admonition of sorts.

    It's become rather plainly obvious to me at this point; this won't do. What started as a sabbatical has turned into something decidedly less useful. I've been sitting about, frittering away time, telling myself that I was waiting until I was ready. The bare fact is, I'm never going to be. Whatever awaits me back in Los Angeles, whatever mistakes and/or misdeeds might be in the offing, I can't avoid them without turning my back on everything I believe, everything I've dedicated my life to. The bottom line is, no amount of preparedness can prevent calamity if it's bound and determined to occur. As another exile noted upon returning home, the readiness is all.

    Current Mood: calm
    Current Music: Beethoven, “Piano Concerto No. 5” (Kempff/Leitner/BPO)
    Thursday, November 27th, 2003
    9:41 pm
    On the question of souls.
    Well, I was asked a question some time ago about the nature of souls. While recent events had pushed it out of my head for a bit, seeing as I've found myself with a surplus of time as of late, I decided to put it to some productive use.

    ( A short essay on the undefinable )

    In other matters, I'd like to thank everyone who wished me well in recent weeks. I'm only sorry that I couldn't reply to anyone individually.

    Current Mood: accomplished
    Current Music: Haydn, "Sym. No. 104" (Tafelmusik/Wand)
    Sunday, November 16th, 2003
    10:19 pm
    Letter for a friend.
    ( Deposited, in a blank envelope, in an LA street corner mailbox at 3:30 AM )

    Current Mood: awake
    Current Music: The Benedictine Monks of Santo Domingo de Silos, "Kyrie"
    Wednesday, November 12th, 2003
    11:25 pm
    Aftermath.
    I haven't washed my hands yet. The powder burns are still there. I wonder how long they'll remain if I don't wash them off. Would it be possible to preserve them for more than a few hours? If I go to sleep now, will there be any sign at all tomorrow of what happened?

    Of course there will. The look in the eyes of all those who know me.

    Angel, I think I'll be working from home tomorrow, if that's quite all right.

    Current Mood: exanimate
    Current Music: Beethoven, "Sym. No. 7" (Kleiber/VPO)
    Saturday, November 8th, 2003
    9:19 pm
    Strange Days.
    Oh, dear. It appears that I've let a considerable sum of time lapse between entries here. I apologize for the extended absence; I've been off on a bit of a wild hair, I'm afraid. It's just that Angel and I were talking the other day, and he mentioned something about a prophecy wherein "the father will kill the son". Well, I have to admit I was intrigued. While it certainly doesn't seem to have any relevance to our current circumstances, I'm afraid I couldn't resist exploring it further.

    ( Of augury and wrestlers )

    Current Mood: contemplative
    Current Music: Rodrigo, "Concierto de Aranjuez" (Gardiner/RCA Orchestra)
    Monday, October 27th, 2003
    11:08 pm
    A Brief Inquiry.
    Well. I will certainly admit that my previous attempt to steer us back on track didn't seem to have the desired effect. However, I will admit some fascination with what appears to be a growing coalition to defend Spike against the barest slight to his character. I don't particularly have time to engage in a long dialogue about this subject, but I would be remiss as a one-time Watcher if I did not take a few moments of my time to address a few salient points.

    ( Of rapine, murder, and other proofs of goodness )

    Current Mood: accomplished
    Current Music: Holst, "Venus, Bringer of Peace" (Boult/LPO)
    Sunday, October 26th, 2003
    3:42 pm
    A suggestion for improvement.
    So, as I survey my co-workers and the people I've come to consider comrades-in-arms, I see people vigorously pursuing personal vendettas, playing celebrity romance broker for sudden prodigies, pulling childish pranks, and engaging in activities I can't even attempt to describe. I'm sure these are all perfectly cunning tactics to lull the various forces that seek our destruction into a sense of complaceny, and that they seek to conceal master plans that I could never begin to guess at.

    I find it somewhat wearying and dismaying that when in the company of those who have lived several lifetimes more than I, that it falls to me to be the voice of perspective and maturity. But apparently I seem to be the only one who remembers that we are in charge of what may be the single largest concentration of evil in this particular world. The Senior Partners certainly haven't.

    There are much larger distractions coming our way than these, people. Whatever the Partners have planned for us, we'll only discover it if we remain vigilant to a fault. If we get sidetracked now, how can we possibly expect to sense their aims until it's far too late?

    And that's my input. I hope that my fellow Department Heads take it to heart.

    Current Mood: aggravated
    Current Music: Mahler, "Sym. No. 9" (Karajan/RPO)
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