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

Most may accuse me of such due to my profession- but that is not the case. I simply have no time to coddle an American, federal agent or no.

[oh, hell no. You did NOT just insult his country]

Hey! Americans don't need coddling. Me least of all.

[She's French. It's a thing. Blame her ex husband for her soured view of Americans. God knows she does.]

Good, because I have no time or patience for it.

Yeah, well, that makes two of us, lady. So how about you stop wasting my time and tell me something useful?

There's a guide in the back of your journal that will answer most if not all of your questions.

Yeah. I read it.

[after all, pacing wasn't the best distraction for his thoughts right now.] Sounds like a load of fairy tales and B.S.

[though, for all his gruffness, he'd paid particular attention to the sections on the Malnosso and the Third Party. That, at least, sounded real enough]

I was equally skeptical upon my own arrival. But after taking into consideration the wings, the individuals found in the village, and my first experience with magic- I became less inclined to think it bullshit.

Someone tell you to pull your feathers out, too?

[...he might still be a little grouchy over that]

No. That's new. I honestly didn't think you would, if you'd read the guide.

Right. Because my first priority after waking up in a hostile territory and being shot at is to memorize the guide book.

[sarcasm. He has it]

Edited 2012-06-07 03:55 (UTC)

...Shot at. Someone-

[She blinks.]

Why was someone shooting at you?

Because these Malnada people left me in the path of someone on a hunting trip. That's why.

[really, Adele. Not all of this irritation is directed at you]

Malnosso. And that would be one of the worst places to wake, I will admit. I'm not certain it is the worst I have heard of- but top three. Well done.

Thanks. I try.

[so dry]

Which is more than I can say for most Americans that I know.

Hey, enough with the insults to my country. Do you see me insulting the French?

[though he wouldn't be above it. Just keep pushing]

Most Americans I know are tourists or my ex husband- and he was an ass. My view is terribly biased and not in your favor through no fault of your own. [She shrugs.] Dig at the French if you like. Some of our reputation is earned.

Yeah, well, take it out on somebody else.

[he gives a huff. It's barely noon, and it's been a long day already]

...A truce, then.

[He had just pulled out one of his own feathers, and been fired upon today.]

[there's a trite comment waiting...something witty and not at all kind about surrender...but he bites his tongue. It's been too long a day, and Lestrade is right. He's going to have enough to worry about without adding enemies.]

Fine. A truce.

...I apologize for instructing you to pull one of your own feathers out. It has been a stressful morning, though not as much as your own I'm certain, and it was not at all fair of me to do so.

[Not to mention it spoke terribly of her position as a surgeon. First, do no harm...except when you tell people to hurt themselves. Doesn't have the same ring to it.]

001 - The Agent in the Fox Hunt

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