001 - The Agent in the Fox Hunt

[beltbucklerebel]

[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]

Comments

1/2

[herotypical]

[ things are growing messy. will might be back, but others were missing. others had left. and now -- someone had arrived. her heart hasn't stopped beating a wicked tattoo since faith's arrival and now buffy was weaving her way through town. almost like she wants to bump into someone...

but not this someone. ]

[voice] 1/?

[truthin_bones]

[Maybe she's seeing things.]

[easierdonethansaid]

[...Shit.

Moran's gun went down the second after the shot was fired. (One hundred and fifty yards, and he'd nailed the fox who'd been intent on darting in and out of brush cover for the last hour.

Only once he'd fired had the rest of the world come back into focus. And he'd seen the person he'd almost shot.

The rifle went down, at his side but still firmly held, and he crossed the distance rapidly.]

Shit.

[Only once he got within decent range of the man-- well, at least it was a man, he'd have had better luck convincing the town it was just some idiot than if it had been a woman or a kid-- did he actually speak, the Cockney actually less prominent with the anger.]

What the hell d' you think you're doing?

[cop_an_attitude]

[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.

[fleurdesel]

You wish the wings gone, Agent?

[It was becoming a little frustrating. She understands it's bizarre, but explaining this was becoming a bit tedious.]

First reach back and pluck out one of your own feathers. Then we might discuss the rest.

[doubleppk]

I'll show where to get the gun, but only if you promise not to shoot me with it.

And don't even try to take the wings off.

voice;

[metalbends]

Sounds like someone forgot to put the sugar on his cereal this morning.

[And here is the most helpful person Booth will possibly meet.]

[perplexme]

So what, if we don't have an answer you'll shoot anyway?

[so_shik]

[Before she can even stop herself, before she can even think for a second that this could someone who's not Angel, Shiki finds herself opening her mouth and asking possibility the dumbest question.]

Since when have you been a federal agent?

[accepted]

[What the hell is a federal agent.]

You can't get the wings off. Just because you're stuck with them isn't a reason to shoot anyone, especially when we all have them idiot.

[voice]

[thedicearecast]

Sounds like you've gotten the truth. It's just too crazy too believe.

Don't try and take the wings off. It'll kill you. And trust me--the gun doesn't help nearly as much as it should.

[ voice ]

[consultsdetective]

[ Federal agent. Jackpot for authority figures. Angry federal agent.

...eh. Happens to everyone. Lestrade is patently patient in regards to this. ]

You might want to tackle all that one thing at a time. I'd recommend asking questions first, since I don't reckon anybody is about to go out of their way to hand over a weapon with that attitude.

[Voice]

[selphie_t]

[Badge... Gun... get rid of the wings?! Well then.

Also, hi Booth.]

Don't get rid of the wings! Do not get rid of the wings!

[Voice]

[galaxynymph]

Finally. Someone who's actually angry to be here.