Wesley: You have to fight. You don’t have to talk, just concentrate on fighting. Just hold on. Fred: I’m not scared. I’m not scared. I’m not scared…. Please, Wesley, why can’t I stay? Wesley: Please… Please…
—— Illyria: This will do.
Illyria: You break so easily. Why do you bother getting back up? Spike: Right. We need to set some ground rules. First off- no more punching me in the face. Secondly, when I punch you in the face, you tell me how you feel so I can write that down on my clipboard. Third, no touching my clipboard. Illyria: I enjoy hurting you. Wesley: How goes it? Illyria: I’ve been hitting the half-breed. He makes noise. —- Angel: She’s some sort of ancient demon. Connor: She have any powers? Spike: Glad you asked. So far, I’ve established that she can hit like a Mack truck, selectively alter the flow of time and, uh…possibly talk to plants. Illyria: I’d like to keep Spike as my pet.
Illyria: My kingdom is long dead. Long dead. There’s so much I don’t understand. I’ve become overwhelmed. I’m unsure of my place. Wesley: Your place is with the rest of your people. Dead and turned to ash. Illyria: Perhaps. But I exist here. I must learn to walk in this world.