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Post by agent olivia dunham on Dec 28, 2010 14:00:11 GMT -5
Olivia had been taking full advantage of the training facilities they had at . . . whatever this place was. She'd enjoyed the gym, and had intentions of trying out the holodecks eventually - but for now, she was content with the firing range. She really needed to get better with her aim - then again, that put her even closer to the alternate version of herslf, who was apparently one of the best with a gun in hand.
Olivia was going to kill her.
Thankfully she had her own firearm - she'd had it on her whenever she had been sucked into this place. Whatever this place was. She had borrowed bullets from the armory that seemed to be open and loaded her gun, and had been praticing alone in the firing range for a while now. She preferred being alone for the time being, but now as she sat cleaning her gun, she realized it would have been nice to have at least a bit of company. She was always used to Walter or Peter or Broyles hovering over her lately.
Were they afraid she was still her alternate self? She wasn't sure. But she was the real Olivia. Not that Peter could tell, she thought to herself bittely. After all, he'd slept with her alternate self, thinking it was her. That was what hurt her more than anything. The one person she had trusted, had truly wanted to get back to, had betrayed her far more than anything she'd ever experienced.
At least here, she had time to think to herself, make new friends, and all that like, away from the usual people she strayed with. After her time in the other dimension she'd needed a break, and apparently this place was what she was getting. She was sure she could get used to it - just hoped like hell she wasn't stuck there for long.
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Post by renee on Dec 28, 2010 14:47:32 GMT -5
All Renee wanted to do as scream. And cry. And whine. All three of those options sounded absolutely great to her. She was in who knows where with a bunch of freaks that she really didn't need to deal with. She had just endured the longest fucking day of her life only to be stuck here. She hadn't slept since what felt like decades of, unless you caught getting knocked unconscious. But that had probably been the most relaxing part of the day, even if she'd be hog-tied with a phone cord.
There had been other busy days in her life, yeah. If it weren't for the fact that all of it happened in less than a day she probably wouldn't have been so angry about it. But for Renee it had - getting shot and buried alive was bad enough. Add in the explosion, Prion variant, Larry's death, and forced to replace him as Special Agent in Charge, and you got her. Congratulations.
So the only way Renee found herself able to express the anger the slightest bit was going to be the shooting range. While her aim was already lethal it never hurt to get practice. As far as she was aware it was exactly what Jack would have done, too. And she'd practically turned into a female version of him after the day's events. But he was going to die and could already be dead. That was perhaps the scariest part about it, the strongest and toughest man she'd ever met was about to die.
Pressing her lips in a thin line, Renee grabbed some of the ammo from the armory so she didn't have to use her own. She could hear someone already in there but that didn't bother her. Most people underestimated her aim. They were wrong to do so. If she shot you, it was normally where she intended. Walking in she saw another woman already there and a slightly forced smile graced her lips. "Hope you don't mind." She said, running her thumb over the butt of her Glock. |
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Post by agent olivia dunham on Dec 28, 2010 16:29:54 GMT -5
Olivia sat the parts of her gun aside, grabbing the rag she had found and continuing to clean them. She hadn't cleaned it in a while - if she was now part of this security job, then she needed to keep her gun clean so it wouldn't fail her, especially if se was sent on whatever they were calling 'other-world' missions. She'd signed up for them anyway.
Her head snapped up as another woman walked in. Olivia gave a smile of her own. "Not at all." She replied, studying her silently. As sily as it sounded, Olivia had hardly ever seen another woman at a shooting range. Then again, she'd hardly gone herself back where she was from, but even when she did she was usually the only female. It was slightly surprising - which made Olivia instantly assume she - had - worked for some sort of law enforcement. Normal women didn't come to a shooting range for fun.
"So which department do you work for? Police, FBI, CIA?" Olivia glanced back up, but didn't tae her attention directly off the part she was cleaning in her hand.
(wow. that was a failtastic post)
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Post by renee on Dec 28, 2010 23:04:53 GMT -5
When you'd been as alert as Renee had been in the past twenty-four hours it wasn't hard to keep that way, which made it pretty easy to tell that the woman was studying her. But she was doing the exact same thing to her, so it did not bother her per se. It helped that physically she didn't look like a threat, even if she could take down a man larger than her. She'd done it before and she'd do it again if necessary. She could do it to this woman more than likely if she wanted to. If you could get out of Jack Bauer's grip, you could do a lot.
"That obvious I'm a fed?" Renee wasn't even in her work clothes. She never worn jeans or a simple blouse that she was wearing to work. The only reason she was in it was because after getting buried alive and jumping in a freezing cold river, you really shouldn't stay in the same clothes you were in. Even if sprinting and beating down a guy with only a shovel did seem to warm you up.
Pulling back her jacket enough to show the badge, Renee shrugged her shoulders slightly. "Bureau. I was lucky enough to get promoted to Director since my boss just got killed by a terrorist a few hours before I got here. Though it's probably not going to last long under the circumstances..." She pressed her lips in a thin line, uncomfortable with the words that passed through her lips. Unauthorized interrogations got messy in the system, the fact that she had been that close to killing him before she ended up here wasn't great either.
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Post by agent olivia dunham on Dec 29, 2010 15:55:49 GMT -5
Olivia gave a half smile. "It's only obvious because I'm one too." She brushed aside her own jacket to flash the badge at her waist. It seemed to Olivia that there were a lot of FBI agents here, but yet she had never met a single one of them. It was off, and odd in more ways than one. While she was used to the odd, she didn't like it. It gave her an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.
Not to mention that in this particular place, she always felt like she was being watched. It only added to her uneasiness about the entire situation. But she was trying to make the best of it, and trying to distract herself.
"Sorry about your boss, but congrats on the promotion." Olivia said, giving another fleeting smile. She found it hard to smile anymore, especially after returning from the other side. Every smile, every laugh felt forced. Like she was trying to be happy. She was - she was trying not to let the other Olivia get to her. But it was too late. Olivia had already been debating burning her clothes and moving from her apartment and anything else she could think of in order to get her life back. The only thing she couldn't change was Peter.
"Agent Olivia Dunham." She paused long enough to extend a hand in greeting. "FBI - U.S. Department of Homeland Security, Fringe Division." She added. AKA the branch of the FBI that dealt with the freaky, weird, supernatural, and down right odd cases that happened to pop up. Including breaches between the universes and shapeshifters from the other side.
But this woman probably did not need to know all that. Not yet, at least.
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Post by renee on Dec 29, 2010 18:37:25 GMT -5
That was perhaps the slightest bit comforting to hear. Almost. It would been much more comfortable to go to her home however and sleep until she got called back in. If she would get called back in. Renee's pale eyes had only briefly flickered down to glance at the badge and she could tell almost automatically that it was authentic. The real ones just had that special touch that any federal agent could see.
"Thanks," In all honestly Renee was almost positive that Larry had ended up better than she had. She had been out in the field all day getting shot, buried alive, the sleeper hold... and shit, it wasn't fun. The only thing that she could say was she was glad that Bill and Chloe had gotten the adrenaline to her heart faster enough to resurrect her. Suffocation was a much slower and more painful process than people gave it credit for, especially if you had blood covering part of you and sand covering the rest of you.
Yeah, being buried alive sucked.
The thought was definitely going to be lingering in her mind for quite some time. If Jack had told her she probably wouldn't have been mad at him. But Renee knew he had been right, if he had told her that she probably wouldn't have believed him. And no one would have let her do it, claiming it was too dangerous. Too dangerous her ass. The worst it could do was kill her, and she'd been through more pain when she'd gone undercover. Sexual assault was worse than being buried alive to say the worst, probably the only reason she didn't report it. She didn't need their fucking sympathy.
"Renee Walker, Washington D.C. Field Office." At this point she held back her own title, knowing that the woman would already know as she shook her hand firmly. She considered her position actually moderately lucky. Most women, especially when they didn't look intimidating like she did, did not get a chance to work in the field. Few people actually worked in the field with the technology they had now. But then again, working in the field seemed to nearly get her killed more often than not.
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Post by agent olivia dunham on Dec 30, 2010 18:35:09 GMT -5
Olivia sat her newly cleaned parts aside and began to rhythmically put it back together after shaking the woman's hand. D.C. hm? Sounded a bit better than being stuck in Boston. Then again, she'd bet D.C. didn't have a Harvard basement lab or something like Massive Dynamics that she frequented anymore since Walter had taken it over. The labs there were much better - especially the damn tanks they kept throwing her in. Hopefully, she'd be able to avoid those any time soon. She was practically afraid to go swimming or have a relaxing bath anymore because she'd end up crossing to the other side. It taken her a bit to get back into even getting a shower - even know she took short ones and kept her mind far away from any thoughts about crossing over.
Olivia was paranoid.
Once her gun was back together, she examined it and twisted it in her hand and such, making sure it felt right. Of course it did. It was her gun, and her gun only - she had problems shooting with any other sort of gun. That just added to her dreadful shot.
"You like it in D.C.?" Olivia asked, looking over at Renee as she got to her feet. "Sounds like you'd see more action up there than where I work."
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Post by renee on Dec 30, 2010 19:02:45 GMT -5
Renee glanced at the rebuilt gun that the woman held. It only reminded her of her own gun, which further reminded her of the incidents she'd been through. Jack had used the very Glock 19 holstered at her hip to hold her hostage, twice, and shoot her. How she had felt the need to avenge him against Alan Wilson, knowing he was surely going to die because of the bioweapon, was beyond her. But they both shared one thing in common now that he had rubbed off on her. The unfaltering need for proper justice.
Did she like it in D.C.? Renee honestly had no idea, it was the only office she had ever been stationed at. But she was a good liar and her expression nor tone changed to signal that she was lying. "Yeah. A new freaking terrorist threat every day." But it was true, the nation's capital was a major hot spot for things like that. Considering the fact that the CIP device had been stolen that day every thing could have come crashing down on their nation if Jack and her hadn't had gotten it back. But the mere thought of that made her rub her neck self-consciously, knowing the bloody bandage and forming bruises were an interesting expression. "What office do you work for?"
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