Starring:
Summary: Jack comes knocking on (well, through) the Hyperion's door to check out a few guests. Ends up checking himself in, instead!
Date It Happened: February 22, 2002
Jack Checks In
The Hyperion
Arriving from the basement to find something to eat (which means microwaved mug o' blood), Angel closes the door behind him and moves towards the fridge. He's silently grateful that there isn't anybody around, at least as far as he can tell, to watch him have his meal. Pouring the contents into his favorite mug, he puts it in the microwave and sets the timer.
No one there? Think again, Angel-cake. There's Fred, sitting on the floor, underneath one of the desks with a big book open to a page on English-Demon translations. "I don't think heating up blood is really a good thing to do. Not without putting a paper towel over that cup. It'll spurt up and stain the microwave. And we've already got enough blood to clean up with that message on Wesley's wall. We might not have the soda water to clean up all of it. Plus, I don't think Cordy'll like it if blood gets in her coffee again. She was…not happy about it the last time. She said something about stakes and dust and throwing back curtains during the day." Fred doesn't even look up at Angel as she talks, instead, she just flips another page and starts chewing on one of her braids.
Another howl echoes from the basement loud and guttural, this is accented by the sharp raps of metal clanging against metal as their basement pound puppy stresses the chains yet again. This kid really needs some obedience training. At least he hasn't piddled in the carpet.
That howl is answered by two more from upstairs somewhere, one noticeably smaller and younger. It's followed by the sounds of banging against walls and doors, claws scrabbling against wood and metal and plaster. Hope those rooms aren't expensive. They'll be trashed before the three nights are done.
If Angel had a broom, he'd be thumping it against the ceiling and floor respectively and demanding the werewolves keep quiet. But then Fred speaks and he starts just a little. Surprised. Fred always manages to surprise him and he should be able to hear or smell her coming miles away. Either way, he shuts off the microwave and just goes with tepid blood for his dinner.
"Then who'd go and check out her visions?"
He crouches down with the mug to look at Underdesk Fred, "More demons? Wesley'll think you're trying to put him out've a job."
"I guess Wesley and Gunn." As always, Fred takes everything Angel says seriously. He is a serious hero who says serious things that she can't ever laugh at. Or, well, maybe giggle nervously, but never outright laugh at. "They've been getting pretty good at it." The loud noises coming from upstairs and downstairs are, for now, mostly ignored. Lots of weird things happen here. "You know, that cage downstairs is pretty hard to get out of. I know, 'cause Gunn locked me up in there for awhile. Hopefully there're no hangers about or anything. That's how I did it. But, that doesn't sound like that thing has hands, so I don't think it'd be able to reach a hanger and then twist it about and stuff. What? Oh this? I'm just trying to figure out what language that message is in. I'm not as smart as Wesley, I'd never be able to do any more with it other than that!"
The howling and banging around continues. One, two, three howls. One, two, three. One, two, three …
… four?
The fourth comes from outside the hotel and drives the two upstairs into another frenzy. Not long after the sound has died off, the doors of the Hyperion burst open — one of them, anyway. Because when a huge hairy body comes barrelling at a glass door, one of them has to give. In this case, it's the glass. Bristling, teeth bared, the newly arrived werewolf snaps his teeth together emptily in the air, then turns and charges for the basement stairs.
"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Angel begins, but then the door bursts open and a big, nasty and furry thing comes barreling through much to his surprise. Most of the time, his first instinct might be to tell Fred to get to safety but given that the thing is moving fast he can't really spare the time. So he just hopes that under the desk is quite safe enough.
His reactions are swift, and as the werewolf breaks down the door he is already turning to face it. He throws himself into harm's way, leaping through the air in an effort to try and tackle it.
There are few things that make Fred stop talking and reading. Something crashing through the doors of the Hyperion and Angel running to attack it would be one of them. "Angel!" There are blurs of motion that she can't really see from under her desk, but she can't just stay there while he could be getting eaten. Scrambling out from beneath the desk, she starts looking for weapons while still maintaining a kind of safety perimeter by being behind the front desk.
The werewolf is tackled, but it also rolls with it. Instead of trying to wind up on top, however, it purposefully hits the floor on its back and attempts to get its legs firmly beneath Angel. There's an attempt at a powerful kick — hopefully powerful enough to send the vampire flying. This werewolf is not the same sort of mindless beast locked up in the basement and upper rooms.
The kick hits home quite soundly, and thankfully Angel doesn't need to breathe so he gets to escape that uncomfortable feeling of the wind being knocked out of you. He doesn't, however, get to escape the uncomfortable feeling of bodily hitting the wall with a loud and crunchy thud before sliding down it. Unfortunately for Mr. Werewolf, though, he's not your run of the mill vampire.
Rising from his slightly crumpled position at the base of the wall, his fangy, mean-looking game face has made an appearance. Not a happy chappy.
Seeing Angel get attacked springs Fred into action. He may not be the run of the mill vampire, but that looks like a pretty big wolf. Grabbing some of the heavier books from the bookshelf nearby, she starts flinging them at the intruder in attempt to buy Angel some time to Do Something Awesome, which is what he normally does in this sort of situation.
As soon as it's freed, the werewolf scrambles back onto its feet — or, well, all fours — where it remains crouched a moment, eyeing Angel. Oh, vampire. The beast lets out a low mocking "woo-oo" sound that is promptly cut off with a sharp yap! as a book bounces across its back. Now it's just back to being angry. The next book misses as the werewolf turns and again jets toward the basement stairs, emitting another loud howl that is answered by the pair upstairs. They're definitely losing it up there. The sound of breaking things can be heard, though nothing as vital as doors or walls or windows.
Downstairs, Matt has been thoroughly worked up into a frenzy by the noise upstairs. The chains downstairs strike against metal at a rapid pace. There is a sharp high pitched snapping sound of metal giving way as some of the weaker links begin to live up to their namesake. He's still well secured, however.
No one's going to hear the sound of a woman running as fast as she can up to the hotel. After all, they're all a bit busy. And so no one may notice the leggy blonde who enters the building, though as soon as she spots Hairy Jack, the rifle that she's carrying comes up to her eyesight as she strides forward and fires - not a regular ol' bullet, and not even a silver bullet - but a tranquilizer with enough drug dose to put down a beluga.
Back on his feet, Angel is already sprinting at pace across the lobby towards the Werewolf as the books fly. In fact, he's leaping towards the beast to attack again when the dart strikes him in the shoulder. It is a surprise, sure, but not enough to stop the momentum of Angel moving through the air. Thankfully, a heart that doesn't beat means such drugs take a longer time to course through the system. Most don't even work but, well, there is a hell of a lot in this particular dosage. He makes an effort to punch the wolf in the face, although his hands definately feel heavy … and not the kind of heavy conducive to shattering strength.
As Fred is really just trying to slow the creature down for such an event to occur, she holds off on tossing any more books when Angel tosses himself back into the fray. The sound of a gun going off as someone else barges into the lobby causes Fred to let out a bit of a yell. She knows that Angel can't die from a bullet, but if that tranq dart is something wooden, they have a problem. As the vampire doesn't collapse into dust, it seems like he's okay. "Watch out!" Tossing another book at the pair - hoping that she doesn't hit her friend - she tries to help the best way that she can.
Aw, Angel taking a dart for a beasty buddy. They must be best pals now. Only not really, because the punch swings wide and the werewolf is able to leap to one side. The gunshot struck the fear of God into it for a second and it whirls around to see — Hannah. And that bullet didn't smell silver. The werewolf bares its teeth again, this time more of a strange snarly grin, then turns and makes not for the basement and not for the stairs, but straight for Fred. No doubt, he's intent on using her as a hostage, just as he did the previous month with the child currently raging at her door upstairs. It's a race to see who is faster: Hannah or Jack.
The rather foul word that Hannah expels would never make it past the network, but it only takes her a moment to slide the new clip, bringing it up to aim, and fire. This time, there's no obstacle. And this time, god dammit, she won't miss. Jack Spratt is not taking another victim if Hannah can help it.
Angel isn't trying to keep Spratt from being tranquilized, but he isn't about to sit there and let Fred become the hotel's newest lunar prisoner (prislunar?). The tranquilizer is working on him but he's still got a bit left in him before he keels over into unconscious.
"Fred! Duck!"
That shouted out, he grabs up a nearby chair and heaves it viciously at the back of the werewolf's head.
Ohboy. How does Fred keep getting herself into these situations? With a yelp, she ducks underneath the front desk in an attempt to get out of the way of the lunging werewolf. Ducking just comes naturally, though she would certainly do it also because of Angel.
The dart hits true this time, embedding right in the werewolf's neck and eliciting a low strangled yelp. Unlike Captain Forehead, Jack's alive and got a heart that beats. It beats a lot, and his metabolism is fast, processing the drug at an elevated rate. The beast falters in step, stumbles when the chair glances off his back, then crashes to the floor and slides just an inch along the smooth marble, coming to rest right up against the desk. Such a dose might kill a lesser creature, but it's put Jack right out. His eyes are glazed and his tongue lolls limply out of his jaws. There's a heavy sigh and then nothing but deep breathing from the werewolf. Hannah won.
Hannah lowers the gun. "If you have the means of restraining him," she says, looking at both the young woman (sniff - human), and the dark clothed man (sniff - vampire), "Now would be the time to see to it." A frown. "Who is that in the basement?"
It may be a comfort to Jack to know that his antics weren't entirely unsuccessful. Matt may not be free, but he's sure worked up enough to cause one heck of a racket for a considerable duration. Sleep may be difficult in the hotel tonight. Well… if you aren't tranquilized up.
Likewise, the pair upstairs are roaring up a storm. It may be difficult to sleep anywhere within a 300-yard radius tonight, at this rate.
"Yeah," Angel answers, although his speech is a little slurred as he grabs the unconscious Jack and makes to pick him up. Unfortunately, all he manages to do is slide him across the floor towards the stairs. Damn, he's lacking the strength. He turns around to give Fred a careful look, "Are you alright?"
Unfortunately, the question comes out even more slurred as Angel begins to slump against the desk. He just needs a quick nap. He'll only be a moment …
"Uh." That's the very intelligent answer that Fred gives Hannah at the question. "I'm…" Stopping herself as Angel slumps against the desk, she has another tactic, worry. "Angel!" Jumping up and rushing to his side, she kind of shakes him just to test to see if he's at all coherent. "What was in that dart! It shouldn't be even effecting him!" He's a vampire! And tranq darts aren't a match for him. "Who are you?"
There's a loud "HRRFFFSSNnngghk" from Jack. No, he's not waking up. Everything looks kinda psychedelic through his half-lidded and glazed eyes, though. Ooh, colors.
Hannah calmly walks over to Jack, studying the werewolf without rancor. Said lack of rancor is also evident when she kicks him in the head. Ouch. She looks at Fred. "My name is Hannah Cooper. The werewolves of Los Angeles - the ones who don't want to hurt anyone, anyway, are part of my protectorate. Jack has caused a lot of trouble, and he needs to be put down. Why isn't that vampire eating you?"
Angel would mention that he doesn't eat people but at the moment it is taking a great deal just to keep his eyes open. But hey! Fred is here. That is good. Hey, why is he being shook? Mrrmrr. He slumps into stillness for a little while. And given his lack of heartbeat and breathing, the whole corpselike effect is very weird. His face has turned back to normal, though. Small mercies.
With Angel being very much like a corpse, Fred kind of breathes a sigh of relief. At least he's not dust. Him being dead is kind of normal. "Because he's not that kind of vampire. He's a good vampire!" Shakeshake. One that's a little tired and out of it right now. "Oh, that's that Jack guy werewolf person? Angel said he was tracking him down! He's always so good about tracking things down! I think it's his superhuman senses." It makes no difference to the woman who actually shot down Jack or who is currently sleeping on a desk because of said tranqs, it's all Angel's doing in her head. "Um, there's a cage downstairs. I think there's another one of the werewolves downstairs. Didn't get a chance to ask if he was a good one or a bad one yet. He's all growly and stuff. You know how they get, I guess!"
CLUNK! Jack doesn't react to being kicked, except to let out a huff of air that barely borders on a yelp. Like Angel, he's out for the count. But unlike Angel, his face remains just like it is: hairy and wolf-like.
Now that the commotion has died down below, the pair upstairs are calming down a little, though not much. They can smell other werewolves down there. They want out.
Hannah blinks a little bit. "A…good vampire. Alrighty, then." Her smile is faint. "Yes, I do know how they get. I tracked him here. How many do you have locked up? We're going to have to get him," she indicates Jack with the two of her boot, "Into restraints and locked up. Probably best if the vampire and I do it, since he might accidentally snap at you."
"Three," Angel begins, waking up a little bit more as the effect of the tranquilizer begins to wear off on him - another benefit of his physiology. He's still groggy as hell, though, and it shows by his unwillingness to really move about. He checks Fred again to make sure she didn't get bitten.
Hurrah for Vampire metabolism! Whatever that is. Fred is biteless, the thing didn't even get near to her what with the ducking and the tranqing and the chair throwing. She's fine! "I…dunno. Angel's still all tranquilized and out of it. He's not going to be a match for three werewolves!"
Jack's metabolism is fast, but he's not dead and that was one hell of a dose. He's going to be out for a little while yet. Drool is now on the floor, though. Careful of that.
Matt's frenzy hasn't gone away, but now that the fun upstairs has stopped there is almost a bit of a whimper in the howls and barks that echo up the stairs. Fun's over already?!
Hannah sighs. People. She reaches into her back pocket, pulls out a pair of unusual looking cuffs. They're kind of large, and yet seem able to collapse and become smaller as necessary. They're made of normal metal though, and she kneels by Jack, grabbing each paw and cuffing him. He'll be pleased to know his prospective mate apparently has a thing for furry bondage, ha ha. Kdding. Grabbing him by the scruff of his neck, she begins to attempt to haul him. "Which way to your cage?" she asks, huffing.
Angel is quietly relieved that Fred wasn't bitten and he's even feeling capable of walking now. He moves to stand up and staggers - okay, maybe he isn't capable of walking. He can help out, though, by saying, "Basement. Look out, though. Another one in there."
Between hauling around a heavy werewolf and jumping forward to make sure Angel doesn't fall, Fred goes for the helping Angel. Because it's Angel. And she'd gladly bite a werewolf if that's what he wanted. "Woah, maybe you should just stay sitting. Just because you've got crazy vampire abilities doesn't mean walking while tranquilized is one of them."
Hannah makes it about halfway to the door before she has to pause. This would be so much easier if she shifted, but then she'd be stuck, and they'd lock her up, and there'd be huge misunderstandings, and - "Sorry." she says to Angel. "You really shouldn't have gotten in the way, though." And with that, she gets Jack downstairs. Which is kind of fun, because part of it involves just shoving him like a log down the steps. Glee!
"Hrrrrrrh," growls Jack oh-so-ferociously when he becomes vaguely aware of the cuffs. It would probably be more crooning than loathsome if he were less drugged — a werewolf version of "oh baby". The airy growl turns into a confused "hrrwoo?" and then a grunt as he's tugged across the floor by the scruff. Then — THUMPATHUMPATHUMPATHUMPATHUD — down the stairs he goes and lands in a heap. There's a faint twitching about his limbs when he hits the bottom, but no real significant movement. He's still too drugged to react outside of the constant "hrrrrrrh".
Taking Fred's advice and sitting down, Angel attempts to will himself into being less tranquilized - unfortunately, it isn't working as he planned. He watches Hannah do her thing, turning slightly to Fred, "Who is that?"
"That's Hannah Cooper?" Fred's not entirely sure, either. "Apparently, she protects werewolves. But not that one. That's a bad one." This is narration by Fred. "That one deserves a shove down a long flight of stairs. Not that I can really blame her, since he tried to eat me. But, maybe he's a good guy when he's not all going 'grr' and 'arr' and the like." To Hannah, she's says in a loud voice, "Oh, that's just what Angel does! He gets in the way to save people!"
Hannah calls back, "No, trust me! He's just as sociopathic in non-fur form!" She tsks, and takes a look around the basement. Let's see who's home!
Oh look! Food! I mean… company! When Matt sees the werewolf tumble down the stairs and Hannah following behind with a bit more grace, his attention snaps immediately to them. Much like the kid who spawned the wolf, this puppy is a big boy! A lot of muscle and bulk beneath his fur. In the cage, however, he is very well restrained, several heavy chains keeping all but the most minimal of lunges from being a possibility.
Jack is only marginally aware of Matt in the same way that he is only marginally aware of Hannah and even what all is going on. It's mostly about the colors. He doesn't even feel the pain of his tumble, he just knows that he didn't like it. His lips twitch upward over his teeth, displaying the tips. In his mind, it's a dangerous snarl, but it really looks more like a drugged grimace.
"Right," Angel says, apparently agreeing with Hannah's opinion of the werewolf - if it is who he thinks it is. For now, he sits there in his tranquilized unmoving state and turns slightly to look at Fred, 'You sure you're fine? He didn't graze you or anything?"
Now that Angel is seated and has no chance of faceplanting on the floor, Fred is free to lift up her arms and show both sides. Bite free! "Not grazed at all! I think that chair flying at him really knocked him out." She beams at him.
Hannah looks around for a key. Key, key, key. Matthew's snarling and sniping simply earns him an arched brow. Cub. Then with a sigh, she calls up from the basement, "Do you think someone could open the cell for me so I can stuff him in there? Otherwise it's going to be me shooting him all night long, and I'd really rather not."
As immature as it may be, Matt-Wolf really doesn't know much else, and so that's what he continues to do: Snarling and Snapping. However, Jack being obviously another wolf even to wolfed out Matt, manages to pause it long enough for him to sniff out the new arrival curiously.
Jack is slowly zoning again. Ferocious druggy snarling turns to vacant druggy staring. He's probably not even aware of being sniffed.
Angel has drifted off once again, slumped against the desk near Fred. Sleepy vampire. Go figure.
Having been away on an impromptu trip out of the area, Wesley returns to the hotel. He's unaware of what's going on downstairs, or what awaits him in his office. Blissfully ignorant of what awaits, he enters the lobby. Disappear for a few days to scrounge up some special components and look what he returns to. "Hello Fred," he calls out cheerily as he makes his way for his office. He almost doesn't see Angel slumped and drifting off, until he backtracks. Something isn't right here. "Ah.." he starts in a questioning manner as he detours towards Fred and Angel.
Frowning, Fred stays right where she is by Angel to try as a sort of thin little watcher. As Wesley comes downstairs, she points towards the basement. "A werewolf burst through the door. And some woman shot Angel, so he's passed out. Um, maybe you should help her? I think they're downstairs. With another werewolf Angel put in the cage."
At this point, Hannah's getting pretty pissed. People have gotten in the way of her gun, didn't bother to help when she tossed Spratt down the stairs, and seem to have decided it's not worth answering her call for the damn key. "Look, people!" she calls up from the basement, "I can just leave him here for you to deal with if you're not going to help me get him in this cell! Where's the damn key?"
As Hannah's anger flairs, Matt's ears fold back almost as if he were intimidated. His sniffing completed, he simply falls back into a steady growl.
Shouting? Oooh! Jack can make noise too. "HrrooOOOOOoooo-ooo!" Though his seems more a plaintive cry for help than a demand for keys and such. It sounds utterly, completely pathetic.
"I've got it," Angel answers, the call suddenly waking him up from his tranquilized sleep and prompting him to try and stand. And he manages to stand under his own power! Hooray! Fishing the key from his pocket, he begins to lurch (for lack of a better word) towards the basement stairs.
Wesley looks behind him as Fred goes on, and finally notices the missing doors there in the lobby. "…" Well. That explains quite a bit, yet leaves a variety of further questions. "So you want me to help the woman who shot Angel? Help her what? Back out the door?" The Brit is understandably confused by the explanation. Rather than argue or question further, he goes to the weapons cabinet to grab his crossbow. He can press for more answers in a bit. The more urgent matter would be the fact there are two werewolves downstairs and their main source of muscle is having a bit of a lie down. Weapon in hand, he hears Hannah calling up for the key, so he about faces to go and fetch it.. from Angel, even if the vamp seems insistent. "No. I've got it Angel, why don't you stay with Fred?" He holds out a hand to take the key.
"I think she's a little testy because Angel was trying to save everyone but she had to carry him down the stairs." Fred frowns at the yelling. It's not like she has a key. And Angel's the one that got tranquilized. Of course he's not in her right mind. "No, sit down, Angel. You're still tranquilized. Be careful, Wesley."
Yup, still growling. Matt makes a quick lunge to check his chains, but they haven't vanished, and still hold strong. And so, with the fighting up top finished and his world awfully small right now, he settles down more than a little tired.
Angel tosses the key to Wesley when he asks, actually doing what he's told and sitting down when Fred suggests it. He is still tranquilized, after all, and sitting down feels much less dangerous.
There's a first time for everything! Wesley looks stunned by the lack of argument as he catches the key. "Good show," he says before rushing off down the stairs into the basement so that he can assist the waiting Hannah.
Every time Jack seems about to stir, Hannah gives him a well placed kick back into la la land. "Oh, good." she says. "Someone has decided this is worth bothering about. Would you mind terribly opening the door to the cage so I can haul him in there?"
"wooOO. Wrooo— urk!" Jack's pathetic singing is brought to an abrupt end by the kick, which only serves to bring back the growling. It sounds a little less airy and unconscious than previous, but he's still well out of it. Plenty of time to get him in the cage.
"So terribly sorry, I just get into the hotel to find the door gone, Angel tranquilized and a pair of werewolves down here. I'm just now getting a bit caught up on everything. It's not as if I was holding a tea party upstairs." Wesley says in his sarcastic, irritable way as he unlocks the cage for Hannah.
Hannah lifts a brow. "Oh, alright, sarcasm. Well I'll tell you what, sir. You can take the werewolf that I managed to shoot, that I managed to get down into your basement, and I am currently dragging into your cage and deal with him as you like, if your partners Skinny Minnie and The Nice Vampire That Couldn't Quite aren't busy with their thumbs up their asses." With that, Hannah drags Jack into the cage and stalks out, heading up the stairs. Ungrateful people! This is why she doesn't bother heading out of Los Feliz.
Now Jack is in the snapping stage, though they're highly ineffectual, since he can't aim his face correctly. He claps his teeth at Hannah and Wesley and Matt — anyone within sight, really. It's going to be one hell of a party when he recovers from the drugs.
Wesley is just a little flabbergasted by the attitude, but deals with it in stride. As tempting as it is to just shut the cage door on Hannah, locking her in with the two, he doesn't. Once she's out of the cage, he shuts the door and locks it back up tight as you please. "Lovely attitude, miss. Thank you ever so much for what you've done. And by the way, you're welcome for the obviously belated assistance with the cage door," he continues as he leaves the pair locked in the cage and goes up the stairs behind Hannah. "I'll also thank you to show a little more respect towards Angel and Fred." He takes offense at the woman's unnecessary commentary!
The door's open! At first this excites Matt and his attention is brought forward at the sight of these new people… that could be food. But then… he panics. This IS NOT A GOOD SITUATION! He's barking and helping and strugling with his chains because THAT OTHER WEREWOLF IS NOT CHAINED UP AND HE IS!!! This is NOT a healthy situation. Bark! Yelp! Bark! Yelp!
Locking Hannah up would have been…entertaining. She lets out a sigh. "The cub is scared of Jack." she says, from the top of the stairs. "You might want to just be smart and put a silver bullet into his brainpan. Jack's I mean, not the cub. He smells frightened. As to your friends, I'll manage that when they manage some in return. Please tell Oz to come see Hannah when he recovers in the morning."
Wesley blinks, taken further aback. "Miss Hannah Cooper?" Damn! "I've researched a little about you, and I'll do no such thing. There's a human being inside that wolf down there!" He's a little horrified at the concept of simply executing someone like that. Surely Jack can be redeemed. Hopefully. If there's no other alternative, then so be it. Until then, there's hope. At the top of the stairs, he follows after Hannah and says, "I apologize for snapping at you. Thank you for your assistance with the werewolf tonight." Even if he's late to the game.
There's a low throaty growl from Jack when the cage door closes and the pup starts panicking. Irritable. His current situation makes him extremely irritable. Still cuffed and laid out on the floor, the werewolf squirms around best he can in order to face Matt and fix him with a snarl. Shut up. He can't think with all the noise and the drugs.
Yelp! Yelp! Matt gives out weakly before he pulls all the back into his corner where the chains give him the most slack, his eyes fix on Jack hard as his body tenses. He still yelps a couple of times more, but they are quieter than the ones before. Jack should find this particular attitude familiar, it's identical to the feeling he had on the beach a few night's before… if a little more primal.
"He's already killed people, and the mother and child he infected are only the start." Hannah says frankly. "He won't stop, and he won't appeal to reason. He's not just some normal unfortunate who's been infected. He's a sociopath, and he fully intends to infect others."
So. This would be the werewolf Wesley has failed to research in a timely manner. "I see," he states as he straightens his glasses. "That does change things up a bit. I'll pass your message on to Oz for you."
Jack isn't recognizing much of anything at the moment, though he's got more of his wits about him now that the drug is definitely wearing off. It takes him a moment before he's calmed himself down enough to take full stock of where he is. Cage. Pup. Cuffs. Basement. Hannah. Nrrrgh. Still too weakened to fully stand, he does roll himself onto his side to await completely recovery from the drug. Meanwhile, he lets out a reassuring sort of "wooo-ing" sound. He's not going to be hurting anyone. Maybe the pup will prove useful in busting them both out.
Hannah gives Wesley a curt nod, and continues on her way out. As she passes the slumped Angel, she offers a mildly repentant, "Sorry." and then heads out through the busted open doors.
Yelp…. yeeellllp. Ye- Matt's cowering eases a bit as Jack appears to not be lunging at him and he hears the signal of such. He doesn't leave his corner, but at least he settles down quite a bit.
