trainingwings | [Video]

[the camera, at first, is only focused on a wall. In the background, off screen, there are the sounds of fabric rustling as Booth struggles with his suit jacket...followed by a mild curse as he gives up and slings it over a chair. He hasn't brought himself to cut holes in it, yet, but it just isn't comfortable without them.

Frustrated, he drops down on the couch, lounging irritably...and notices the open journal.

In his irritation, he doesn't bother to close it, instead taking the opportunity to complain.]

Okay...cute as someone probably thinks this is, I've had just about enough of wing-world. Talking animals? A bunch of kids running around with super powers? I've had hallucinations that made more sense than this place. [huh...come to think of it, that sounds worse out loud than it did in his head. Moving on]

And how're you supposed to do anything with these wings getting in the way all the time? I haven't had a good night's rest in a month.

Has anyone put in a firing range around here? Because I could really go for shooting something, right about now.

Player Name: Kyra
Are You New?: N
Character Name: Seeley Booth
Character Fandom: Bones

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[misunderstanding that look, he quickly makes his tone less caustic]

Targets. Not people. I might as well keep my edge if I'm going to be stuck here.

I didn't realize you...and -- [ gulp ] -- there's an edge? You're keeping it?

[ and because buffy's been through this wringer too many times in luceti proper, aly takes advantage of training wings to have her legit mistake booth's identity. ]

[he's not sure what's happened, but he can tell something is off. Grumpy or not, the last thing he wanted was to have someone afraid of him. He hasn't had the best of luck with introducing himself--too many people here had never even heard of the FBI--but he gives it a shot all the same]

It's alright. I'm with the FBI. Special Agent Seeley Booth.

[he gave her a lopsided smile, trying to put her at ease] The edge is for bad guys only.

[ seeing a smile on that face nearly bursts her heart. it's all she can do to hold off on a sob.

only... ]

B-Booth?

[okay. He's officially lost. He leans forward a bit, peering uneasily at the camera]

That's me.

...Are you alright, Miss-? [he trailed off, looking for some kind of name to fill in the blank]

Buffy. Buffy Summers. Buffy Anne Summers. Social security number...

[ shut it, summers! you're prattling! and still staring! and... ]

D-do you like pie, Booth? [ last time, he seemed to like pie. and buffy had liked going out to get pie with him. it was a very...awkward bad habit. purely platonic but also just a little vicarious. ] We could get some pie.

[he can't get a read on her, but she doesn't ping any of his gut feelings about threats. The awkwardness is...well...awkward, but not in a bad way.]

I would love to know a good place to get pie.

[That lopsided smile returns] I think I'll pass on the social security number, though.

Just figured...y'know -- FBI. Unreasonable surveillance. Personal details. But...pie.

[ she for a smile of her own! success! ] Unless you'd rather be putting bullets in things.

Hey...hey! I only do reasonable surveillance. Scout's honor. [though a few of his closest friends and family members might disagree with his definition]

I'm still holding out for a shooting range...but I'm thinking pie might make a fair substitute. Bullet free.

Maybe. If pie goes well? I'll introduce you to the Battle Dome.

[and that gets a full out grin]

Now that sounds like my kind of dome.

Eh. It kinda pales in comparison to the...[ hummmmm. ] Yeah. It might just fill your shooting needs with no worries for, uhm, inconvenient ricochets.

[one eyebrow goes up as she trails off, but he lets it go.] That's what I look for in a shooting range, alright.

So where do I find this elusive pie?

Seventh Heaven. In the village centre? It's not hard to find.

[ she doesn't think to identify herself any further than the tiny square of video on the journal. she'll know how he'll look, after all. ]

I can manage.

[the little video screen isn't much, but Buffy's not really a girl-next-door, either. He's not in a rush, but it doesn't take him long to head towards the bar. Anything to get out of the apartment and get his mind off of this crazy place]

[ and she...waits. just outside the restaurant door. she wants to see him in the sunlight before they head into the shaded building.

buffy's arms are loosely crossed over her chest and she leans back against seventh heaven's outer wall. allowing the slight pressure against her dark red wings. ]

[equipped with sunglasses and jacket-free, he's not even flinching at the sun. Certainly not moving with the panic she'd have to worry about. His stride is lanky and easy, the officer rather than the predator.

The small blonde gets a smile when he notices her, followed by a nod and an offered hand once he gets close enough.]

Miss Summers.

Please. Call me Buffy. [ in person -- and while remembering the last time booth was here -- it's easier to see the differences.

even easier to see the similarities. ] Please.

[what kind of name is Buffy, anyway? He can already tell he's going to feel a bit silly saying it. But his gratitude for someone acting semi-normal around here keeps him from actually voicing his naming opinions]

You got it.

And I'm just Booth.

[ buffy is a noble name. ;; ]

Right. Just...Booth. As in Telephone. Or Kissing.

[ ... ] So about that pie.

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