Spencer Reid ¶ 001 ¶
Who: Spencer Reid and anyone wanting to welcome him to this world!
Where: Center of Espoir
Style: Either!
Status: Very much open!
Spencer opened his eyes groggily. His apartment was so cold…Had the heating broke down again? As he sat down in the snow, he realized that he wasn’t where he thought he should be. At least, he was dressed in a warm winter coat. So he knew he would have been outside in a cold weather. Collecting his thoughts, he stood up and brushed the snow off his pants. The last thing he remembered was Morgan sitting by his bed in the hospital. He had contracted Anthrax after coming in contact with lyophilized spores in the UnSub’s laboratory. He was sure he hadn’t got out of the hospital. So he was dreaming? It couldn’t be a dream. He felt cold and wet and without pinching himself, he knew he could get hurt.
As he moved, he felt the weight of his phone in one of his pocket, his gun and credentials in the other. Beneath the wool of the coat, he could felt the stiffness of his Kevlar vest. He reached for his phone; Garcia was the first number he chose from his speed dial. She would tell him where he was. But it seemed that his phone could get any signal in this place. Looking at his phone for the first time, the agent finally noticed how the device was different from his usual one. It looked more like the one Hotch used and Reid wondered how they could have switched phones without noticing it. Still, the senior agent must have the technical analyst on his contact list and Reid chose to look at it. The young man frowned as he realized that he didn’t recognize any names on the list. Some even made him raise an eyebrow in confusion: why would Hotch have ‘Frederic François Chopin’ on his contact list? Or several countries as well? Surely, they had to be codenames, but then again, Hotch wasn’t that paranoid…
Reid slipped the device back into his pocket and walked a bit until he found a street where footsteps were more abundant, knowing that it would be easier to find people to ask questions to if needed. The buildings looked like they were built during the colonization, but the young man could see that they weren’t, as several architectural incoherencies could be noted. For all the books and maps he had read, he truly couldn’t put a name on the location he was finding himself at. Stopping at a crossing, he turned around slightly, half tempted to call out Morgan, hoping this was one of his pranks. But he stopped himself, knowing that the good natured agent wouldn’t go this far, at least not right after him getting hospitalized. He finally looked up and his eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets. There was a flying castle over him! Nowhere in the world was such a thing real! Was he hallucinating? Maybe it was the exhaustion from the Anthrax that was causing him to see things. Because the alternative wasn’t a good in the eyes of the young man.
"...This can’t be..."
Where: Center of Espoir
Style: Either!
Status: Very much open!
Spencer opened his eyes groggily. His apartment was so cold…Had the heating broke down again? As he sat down in the snow, he realized that he wasn’t where he thought he should be. At least, he was dressed in a warm winter coat. So he knew he would have been outside in a cold weather. Collecting his thoughts, he stood up and brushed the snow off his pants. The last thing he remembered was Morgan sitting by his bed in the hospital. He had contracted Anthrax after coming in contact with lyophilized spores in the UnSub’s laboratory. He was sure he hadn’t got out of the hospital. So he was dreaming? It couldn’t be a dream. He felt cold and wet and without pinching himself, he knew he could get hurt.
As he moved, he felt the weight of his phone in one of his pocket, his gun and credentials in the other. Beneath the wool of the coat, he could felt the stiffness of his Kevlar vest. He reached for his phone; Garcia was the first number he chose from his speed dial. She would tell him where he was. But it seemed that his phone could get any signal in this place. Looking at his phone for the first time, the agent finally noticed how the device was different from his usual one. It looked more like the one Hotch used and Reid wondered how they could have switched phones without noticing it. Still, the senior agent must have the technical analyst on his contact list and Reid chose to look at it. The young man frowned as he realized that he didn’t recognize any names on the list. Some even made him raise an eyebrow in confusion: why would Hotch have ‘Frederic François Chopin’ on his contact list? Or several countries as well? Surely, they had to be codenames, but then again, Hotch wasn’t that paranoid…
Reid slipped the device back into his pocket and walked a bit until he found a street where footsteps were more abundant, knowing that it would be easier to find people to ask questions to if needed. The buildings looked like they were built during the colonization, but the young man could see that they weren’t, as several architectural incoherencies could be noted. For all the books and maps he had read, he truly couldn’t put a name on the location he was finding himself at. Stopping at a crossing, he turned around slightly, half tempted to call out Morgan, hoping this was one of his pranks. But he stopped himself, knowing that the good natured agent wouldn’t go this far, at least not right after him getting hospitalized. He finally looked up and his eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets. There was a flying castle over him! Nowhere in the world was such a thing real! Was he hallucinating? Maybe it was the exhaustion from the Anthrax that was causing him to see things. Because the alternative wasn’t a good in the eyes of the young man.
"...This can’t be..."