beltbucklerebel | 001 - The Agent in the Fox Hunt

[Considering how foul his mood had been that morning, it had actually turned out to be a pretty nice Valentine’s Day. The time at the shooting range with Bones had calmed some of the hurt and anger aggravated by the holiday...enough that, for one of the first times since ending things with Hannah, he didn’t have to fight to fall asleep that night.

He didn’t even dream. It was as if no time passed at all. One minute, he’d closed his eyes on the red, digital glare of his alarm clock, and the next-

There’s no mistaking the deafening crack of a gunshot. It’s so close--so terrifyingly close--that Booth wakes convinced that he’s been hit.

There’s panic, but there’s no time to indulge. Instead, he is the instant soldier, hands flying to his hip for his gun...only to find it’s not there. It’s not there and everything is wrong and what the hell is going on? He knows he maybe only has seconds to figure it out as he scrambles to his feet (barefoot. Why is he in a battlefield, barefoot?), and moves for the nearest cover (trees? Why the hell are there trees?).

It’s only in the silence that follows, listening to the rapid pounding of his own heart, that he starts to realize that something is very, very wrong. He leans back, trying to stay close to the tree, and flinches as newly added wings protest against the pressure.]

What the-?!

[There might be quite a bit of swearing and arguing happening as soon as Moran catches up with him enough to explain what the hell is going on]

[Later, once he’s calmed down...relatively speaking]

[Moran had directed him towards the village and actual clothes, but that hadn’t made Booth feel any less furious. The voice that comes over the journal is clipped and almost wry, anger audible...but tightly controlled]

Okay. Whatever genius thought that kidnapping a federal agent and playing dressup was a good idea, I’m telling you right now. I’m not laughing. I’ve heard a lot of crazy things coming out of this book...thing...and I’ve had just about enough. No more fairy tales. No more crazy, hallucination-induced, looney-bin stories. I want the truth. Now. And one more thing:

I want my badge. I want my gun. And, if you tell me how to get these wings off, I might not even shoot you with it.

[The agent can be found pacing in front of the Welcome Center, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, and fuming as he waits for responses]

[OOC: First tag, chronologically, goes to Sebastian Moran who was hunting in the forest. All other replies will come after Booth’s relocated into town]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Federal agent! Booth, you are among your people. Well, more or less.]

Read the back of the guide. Your things will show up in the item and weapon shops eventually, if they're not there already. Definitely don't touch the wings. It's all true. I think that covers the main points.

Welcome to Luceti, Agent. Detective Sergeant Sally Donovan.

Special Agent Seeley Booth. [dry. So dry. But hearing another official title helps.]

Sorry if I'm not really ready to join the nutcase brigade on that one.

I understand the feeling, but...look around. The wings, the people...walk out far enough into the forest and you'll run into the barrier. People are kidnapped and come back different. Sometimes they disappear without trace. It's a lot to take in, I know.

[She laughs humorlessly.]

Maybe we're all mad, but even if my brain is cracked I don't think I've enough imagination to hallucinate all this.

[hallucinations. That was a disturbing thought, and it only enforced that unnerving suspicion from meeting Moran. But if that's the case, there's not much he can do about it until he wakes up, so he pushes it aside]

Not sure if it'd be a relief or not to find out this isn't real. I sure as hell don't want to admit this came out of my brain.

Well, I think I've been real long enough to know what it feels like, and I definitely am. For what it's worth.

[Not much, but it's all she's got.]

Yeah, well...for both our sakes I'm hoping you're telling the truth.

[Corporal Parker had been pretty convincing about his existence, too.]

Well, I'll let you know if anything changes.

[And according to the journals...]

You're Dr. Brennan's friend?

She's my partner.

...You know her?

A bit. We've talked a few times and she's a good friend of a-- [...How to put it. Ugh.] Of a...colleague of mine. She mentioned you.

She did, huh?

[his tone warms just the slightest bit] What'd she say?

She mentioned a case you solved in London. Said she couldn't have done it without you. [More or less, anyway. She may be trying to get on his good side to recruit normal people to deal with the genius crazies.]

[for the first time since he's woken up, he smiles.]

Oh yeah. I got a bobble-head bobby out of that!

You got a--? A bobble-head-- [Oh lord. Tourists.] Right, well, I'm glad London showed you a good time.

It was a present

[nobody else appreciates the simple things in life]

Well, if you like it, it was a good present, wasn't it? So I take it that means your stay was all right?

Well, you know how it is...go for a bit of over-seas cooperation...get a bit of murder. The usual.

I do, a bit. Sometimes I feel like I can't even go on holiday without a body turning up nearby. Of course, it's all just crime statistics and me noticing because of the job, but one's life begins to feel like a season of Murder, She Wrote.

[Okay...he likes you, Sally]

I'd ask what a man's gotta do for a vacation...but I'm kinda thinking I need to bite my tongue on that.

[the lightness in his voice fades but, with it, so does the anger. He's serious, now, but not harsh]

So what's the deal? Kidnappers have to have some kind of demands, right? Communications? They give us anything to go on?

[Sally likes you too, so she's going to level with you.]

..."Kidnappers" is a misnomer. They're the scientists and we're the lab rats. As near as I can tell - I think as anyone's been able to tell - they don't want anything from us but to test us and have us fight their battles. They don't communicate; I don't think they even come inside the enclosure to leave or take people.

Much as I hate to say it, considering the powers they've shown, I doubt there's anything us "puny mortals" could offer to buy our freedom in the first place.

[And being that this is the first time she's let herself be this honest about the situation, her whole day is pretty much shot.]

Okay, I am nobody's lab rat.

And neither is my partner. If it comes down to that, Bones can out-squint anyone.

[but man, he does not like the sound of these experiments. Deep breath. Better to know the details early on.]

...What kind of experiments are we talking about?

I'd like to say I'm nobody's lab rat, either.

[But it's hard to remain optimistic about that on a bad day.]

...They involve people being attacked and drugged by robots and dragged away. From what I hear, you end up in a sort of research facility in a cage where they...examine you, or run...tests. For what, I don't really know. Sometimes people come back different. Injured or missing something or transformed. Seems it almost always wears off, for what that counts for.

Doesn't count for much.

[his voice is solemn. Grim.] Look, I'm sorry to ask this, but...

They do this to you, ever?

Me? No, thank god. Not yet, anyway.

[She's kind of hoping that "yet" isn't applicable, but you don't get far in her line of work being an optimist.]

Anyone found a connection or trend in the people they do this to?

Not that I know of. It seems to be completely random.

(no subject)

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