11842/At the Head of the Trail

At the Head of the Trail
Date of Scene:	01 July 2022
Location:	Recovery Room 01: Triskelion
Synopsis:	Kid Colt, finally with some amount of wits about him, formally meets Bobbi Morse.
Cast of Characters:	Bobbi Morse, Blaine Colt

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Bobbi Morse has posed:
It's been a cool 24 hours since the trip to Utah and return to the Triskelion with a time-displaced cowboy hog tied and leaking tachyon radiation. In that time, he's been settled into the recovery room of the medical ward after an extensive medical evaluation. All his gear, clothes included, have been taken for decontamination and other analysis or security protocol. He's also lightly handcuffed to the bed, since he did shoot an agent... even if it was pretty useless.

All this done while he was sedated until an agent with the proper clearance and skillset was available to assess and interview him.

Which somehow defaulted to Bobbi. No good deeds and all that. After doing her research into his time period and anything to do with 'Kid Colt', which incidentally involved more Google than SHIELD databases, Bobbi arrives to do the honors. Rather than her Mockingbird suit, Bobbi is wearing jeans, a t-shirt that proclaims her part of 'SHIELD swim team', and a pair of black glasses with a lab coat thrown over. She looks completely harmless, like some sort of science nerd with a PhD in biochemistry and postgraduate work that is considered the bible on super soldier serums.

Funny, that.

She's brought a plate of cookies and a few comic books as well, bearing the image of a guy on a horse and the title 'Kid Colt!'. Both are set beside his bed, before she bends over to inject the stimulant into his IV. Bobbi steps back, and with one hip cocked glances down at her watch. "5.. 4.. 3.. 2.. 1.."

Blaine Colt has posed:
Blaine's last 24 hours have been woefully uneventful compared to Bobbi's, which is probably just fine with him. He's been getting his ass beat for over a century, so the rest was more than welcome.

Then Bobbi had to come along and ruin it.

When the stimulant hits his bloodstream, Blaine's eyes shoot open and he's instantly turning to fight or flight. Always seems to be the first one with this guy. His hand are lunging towards Bob-No wait, they're handcuffed to the bed. He struggles in vain for longer than anybody with any real sense would, but he does eventually relent, staring holes into the woman.

"Who the he-what the he-where the..." he trails off, icy blue eyes taking stock of things that are...wholly unfamiliar to him. Like...sterile environments.

"What the hell are you trying to pull, Kang?"

Bobbi Morse has posed:
Bobbi is a kill joy like that. Just ask her exes.

"Don't know who 'Kang' is, but I'm Dr. Bobbi Morse. Bobbi is usually short for 'Robert', but in my case it's short for 'Barbara', which is worse." Aaaaanywho. "You are Blaine Colt, the western folk hero known as Kid Colt. You are in the year 2022, roughly 130 or so years in the future from when you were last seen." Bobbi picks up a nearby tablet, and glances up at the TV as it comes to life. After a few moments, and a few taps on the tablet, video starts playing of the anomaly in Utah from recorded footage.

"My organization found a temporal anomaly. When my team was sent to investigate, you... fell out of it? Coagulated from it?" She shakes her head, pushing glasses up her nose as she watches Blaine's reaction as the timey wimey thingamabob does indeed seem to spew him out. "You passed out and we brought you back to our base for medical treatment. The restraints are because you attempted to attack us." And then he shoots Achilles before passing out and getting hog-tied with zip ties in first person. Then Angela carrying him off. She turns the video off there.

Blaine Colt has posed:
"What in the hell is that?" Blaine asks, eyes following hers over to the TV and widening as...pictures and stuff start moving around in it.

"Listen, lady, I know a sour sale when I smell one, alright? And I got no clue what a what a temporary anomaly is. Ain't no way I'm just gonna..." he trails off, watching the footage of himself materializing in the desert. "I ain't no...I ain't no folk hero, lady. Bobbi. Dr. Bobbi, ma'am..." he trails off again, watching himself draw down on Achilles. That guy very clearly is not Kang the Conqueror. The Kid's form is impeccable, though.

"Is that fella...he alright?" Colt asks, turning to look at the woman.

Bobbi Morse has posed:
"We call it 'video'." Bobbi says with amusement at his reaction that she doesn't attempt to hide. "Like a moving picture. Bizarre seeing yourself in motion, isn't it?" Her own blue eyes are sharp as she watches him, belying her casual, friendly expression and tone.

When he talks sour sales, she raises an eyebrow at him. "Not seeing where I'm trying to sell you on anything, chief." She tells him, shrugging one shoulder, "Just explaining realities. And you'd be surprised how things can get distorted by time, Blaine." She makes her way cautiously over, and unhooks one of his arms and then passes him the comics. "They wrote stories about you, and drew comics."

When he asks about Angelo, Bobbi waves a hand dismissively. "Oh, Angelo? He's fine. Think he was more upset by his uniform getting damaged than anything, the peacock."

Blaine Colt has posed:
"Seen myself in a mirror plenty of times, but that's a whole...different kinda thing," he admits.

Apparently appreciative of the show of good faith, Blaine looks up at the woman for a time before he's lifting his free hand and rolling his wrist around.

He takes the comic and begins to flip through it. "I remember seein' a few of the novels around before...all this. These're really something else. Got the vest right and everything," he says with a soft chuckle, pointing to the color-work.

"You wouldn't happen to have a smoke on you, would you? Feel like I ain't had one in a...how long'd you say?"

Bobbi Morse has posed:
"No can do, partner." Bobbi tells him, regarding smokes, "It's been about 130 years from what I was able to gather. And in that time we've civilized some. No smoking indoors, no spittoons, and we let black people and women vote." Beat. "I'll let you absorb that shock for a minute or two."

She watches him closely as he looks through the comics, smiling slightly. "I was going to get you some of the dime novels, but they're harder to get on short notice. Cookies?" And she picks up the plate of chocolate chip cookies to offer him one.

Blaine Colt has posed:
"Bet that tickled ol' Betty. She was one helluva fire spittin' suffragette," Kid Colt says with a soft chuckle before lots of realizations come flooding in. Those pretty blue eyes of his take on a real sad luster. The kind of look a fella might have if he woke up in a strange place some 90 years after every person he cared about has gone on to glory.

He clears his throat and flips the comic back closed. "Yes, ma'am, that'd be fine," he answers to her offer, reaching out to take one of the cookies in hand. He just sort of rolls it around in his palm for a time, though.

"Y'all ain't got any kinda means to get me back where I'm supposed to be, do ya?" he asks, looking up to her.

Bobbi Morse has posed:
Despite her reputation (largely fed by her ex) of being a demonic hellbeast incapable of feelings, Bobbi is empathic enough to give Blaine time to process the knowledge that he outlived everyone he knew by a century or so. She continues to observe, though.

"You can eat it. I'm not going to poison you." Bobbi says in amusement as he rolls the cookie around in his palm instead of eating her baking. When he asks about returning him to the past, she takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly.

"Well, Blaine, that depends." She says slowly, as she takes a seat in a chair a conversational distance from his bed. She has one of the cookies, and buys herself some time by eating it. See? No poison! "We don't fully understand what happened to displace you from your time. Until we know that, and do more research, I can't make any promises. Time travel is complicated."

Blaine Colt has posed:
"Right," Blaine says, nodding his head and lifting the cookie to take a bite. It's not his usual trail fair, but maybe there's some stuff in 2022 that isn't all bad. He chews quietly and eventually swallows, before he clears his throat.

"So do I just sit here chained to a bed until y'all get your wits about you?" he asks. "That kinda life ain't ever really suited me, if I can be so bold as to tell you the truth," he says, sucking at his teeth for a moment and hiking an eyebrow up as he watches her.

Bobbi Morse has posed:
"Don't forget the naked part. You're wearing an open-back hospital gown." Bobbi says with amusement and a hiking of her own eyebrow before wiggling it at him. "But no, we aren't going to keep you chained up. I'm here to interview and assess you. If I like what I hear, you get to roam free. I don't, then you go into a cell." Beat. "But either way, no restraints and I'll get you clothes."

She leans back in her chair. "Lets start with the obvious, eh? What is the last thing you remember in your own time?"