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

[he wouldn't have to ask if you'd just use normal words]

[he grimaces at that] You were told right. Woke up without my clothes or my badge or my gun.

You can obtain a gun from the weapons shop easily enough. [Speaking from experience and all here.] Just as you've obtained clothing. For some reason, quite possibly to placate us into being more docile subjects, the Malnosso are capable of importing objects from home. I've already been able to obtain a few of the artifacts I have both at home and in my office at the Jeffersonian.

....Are you telling my they just hand out weapons?

[somehow this is more upsetting that his being taken away]

Bones...what the hell is going on?

[He's probably been standing here some time now. And by evidence of his clothing, he has at least encountered one other person. Someone who would have pointed in the direction of the shop. It's a reasonable conclusion to draw.

But just to be on the safe side,]

Have you talked with anyone else yet?

Yeah. The guy who shot at me and a whole bunch of knuckleheads after. They're all blaming these Malwhatsit people.

[...and now it's her turn to stop, pause, and gawk.]

Malnosso, Booth. [Really?] You failed to mention that you were shot at.

[he shrugs, brushing it off] Guy was hunting. He didn't hit me.

[and, because it was unintentional and without consequence, he's going to pretend like it doesn't matter.]

[That's not very reassuring.]

I... think I preferred being lost in the forest.

[and, man that he is, he decides not to point out that he was shot at while he was in the forest. Better she not worry more than necessary] Well, I'm fine now.

[...]

All things considered.

[his voice lowers.] How is it possible that you've been here two months. I just saw you this morning.

[He looks okay. There are no indications of bandages or blood beneath his clothing. And Booth would not lie to her. Not about something like that.

He's okay. And, perhaps more importantly, he's here.]

It is... difficult to explain. [Said a second or two late, after fully reassuring herself with a scrutiny of Booth's torso and limbs.] And you are not particularly versed on quantum or Euclidean physics.

Euca-what?

[aka: No. No he's not]

[She rolls her eyes.]

Exactly, Booth.

Fine...so give me the dummy talk version.

[There's a momentary pause in which she presses a hand to her lips as she thinks.]

Based upon what others have explained, the point in the time-space continuum in which we are pulled from is the one in which we are returned to.

As memories are removed, you ultimately have no evidence of the time spent here.

...so they screw with our memories, as well as giving us wings?

[A nod. It's a good enough a response as any.]

Yes. So you understand why I can simultaneously exist both here and back in D.C.?

Yeeeeeah....no. Not a clue.

[A sigh.]

...has anyone else attempted to explain anything to you yet?

Mad scientist kidnappers, wings, magic, and no way back. I read the cliff notes.

[and he doesn't think much of them]

That... would be a succinct enough summary.

001 - The Agent in the Fox Hunt

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