11890/A Visitor Out of Time

A Visitor Out of Time
Date of Scene:	05 July 2022
Location:	Food Court: Triskelion
Synopsis:	A meet and greet between Blaine Colt and some of SHIELD's finest. Or, at least, SHIELD's most dangerous women.
Cast of Characters:	Blaine Colt, Peggy Carter, Melinda May, Bobbi Morse, Dottie Underwood

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Blaine Colt has posed:
It's been a handful of days since Commander Morse conducted Kid Colt's interview and thought him a small enough threat to give him free reign in the Triskelion. He's still an unknown quantity, though, so the 19th century man is quarantined to the building, so he's easier to keep an eye on and reach out to for continued medical evaluations.

Over the last few days a few of the staff therapists have been giving Blaine the run-down on just what exactly he's missed out on in his travel through time. It's been a lot for him to take in, but he's managed to take it in stride.

With a change of clothes offered to him by Bobbi, Kid Colt finds himself seated at a table all by his lonesome picking at something akin to steak and mashed potatoes, humming some old trail song softly to himself.

Peggy Carter has posed:
Well, he's got the same run of the Triskelion that any consultant or level 1 agent would have -- all the public areas, recreation rooms, food, front of medical, and guest quarters. There are still places in the huge building that are off limits to any badge not of a certain level. But it's better than him being stuck in a cell or confined to medical bay.

Peggy is out and about herself today, looking as pregnant as it seems one could possibly be. She's beached whale round and definitely waddling more than she's actually smoothly walking, but it seems she's not confined to any bed or quarters as well. Yet. She's wearing a summer maternity dress of red with little white flowers, the empire waist doing the best job it can but nothing can make her not look this pregnant. Her hair is up off her features against the summer humidity. She's come waddling for something overly sweet to eat, but when she spies their strange guest, he proves to be far more interesting, so she redirects towards him. "...Settling in alright?"

Melinda May has posed:
May has been fairly busy of late, following up on some intel in an effort to track down just where the new Framework was moved to and trying to figure out just where the Liberty boys managed to get those weird boxes the Triad wanted. All signs point to AIM, but she's not determined their full backtrace, just yet.

Right now, though, it's time for a cup of tea and maybe something that passes for food. What's today? Tuesday? Not the good day for jell-o, then. Maybe the chocolate pudding will do...

Bobbi Morse has posed:
Equally busy has been Dr. Bobbi Morse. Despite being one of the deadliest agents on staff, the blonde looks closer to an analyst or someone from R&D with a lab coat, glasses, and her hair in a loose bun made with a pair of pencils.

As quickly and efficiently as if she were slitting a throat or running blood samples, she gets her meal together and makes her way towards Peggy and Blaine.

Blaine Colt has posed:
Having traded in his cowboy ensemble for a light brown leather jacket, a sea foam green button down, and a pair of jeans, Blaine ought to look like any other mook off the street, but he still manages to look well out of place.

His blonde brows loft as Peggy approaches and he clears his throat, sliding his elbows down off the table in an effort at propriety. He offers her a nod in response. "Yes, ma'am," he says, moving to stand in the lady's presence. "Still a mite itchy on account of not being able to smoke round here, but the nice folks in medical got me some patches they say ought to do the trick," he explains, sliding up the sleeve of his jacket to reveal the clear Nicoderm adhered to his inner forearm. "I appreciate y'all taking me in, for what that's worth."

He stays standing when Bobbi approaches the table, offering a nod in greeting to her. "Howdy, Doc."

Peggy Carter has posed:
The entrances of two of her senior officers do not go missed. Peggy might be quite pregnant, but she's ever paranoid as well and used to watching every exit of a room. That just means she sees pleasant things too, like May and Bobbi. She gives a respectful nod in both of their directions before looking back to Blaine with a slightly wry smile. She doesn't sit yet, she's not been asked, but she is watching him.

"Well, that is good. I mean, if you were quite desperate, there is a courtyard. I am sure we could get you an escort for smoke breaks. But that muck *will* kill you, and those around you. So, I'd listen to the good doctors. But we aren't cruel in this place. Just practical." Peggy then leans forward a bit more, offering her hand. "Chief Margaret Carter."

Melinda May has posed:
May glances around as she senses the strange 'double emotional aura' that is Peggy these days. She gives a nod to Bobbi as she grabs her pudding and moves to fetch her tea. Angling her steps toward the stranger and the Chief -- yeah, she's glad Morse pulled interview duty, this time, instead of her -- she greets Peg with a light nod and gives the old fashioned man a proffessional once-over. "New recruit?"

Dottie Underwood has posed:
What is busy to someone like Dorothy Underwood? She's been *active* recently, certainly. But as SHIELD doesn't ice her between missions, she's experienced a mind-numbing amount of downtime as well. And with all that time running, a body has to eat.

Communal meals at the Griffith had reminded her of her childhood in a certain way. Comradery at arms length. Share and share alike, but always keep something back. Always protect yourself first. Always keep your secrets.

So more often than not, Dottie eats alone.

Today, however, there are familiar faces in the cafeteria. And it would be *rude* not to say hello. With a too bright smile, one that shows all her teeth, plastered on her face like a warning, Dot makes a beeline for Peg and May.

Bobbi Morse has posed:
It must feel a little intimidating, the three women surrounding him like that. May's nod is given a slightly distracted, tired sort of lift of her chin in acknowledgement. "Potentially... He was discovered in that anomaly in Utah." Bobbi answers May's question, "Mr. Colt. Glad to see you out of medical and doing well. Ma'am." That last is given to Peggy with a deferential dip of her head making it clear who the big dog of the three is.

Blaine Colt has posed:
"That's what they keep tellin' me, ma'am," he offers back with a hint of chagrin. He reaches across the table to take her hand in his own leathery, worn mitt. "Blaine Colt. Pleasure to finally meet you," he says, releasing her had. "You can join me, if you'd like. I can run and fetch you a plate or something, giving your current situation," he says, letting the offer hang in the air as he looks to Morse and May.

"Dunno if you'll have me yet. Been doing physicals and talking to other doctor types. Wanna make sure I'm fit for fightin', as it were," he explains to Melinda. "But is welcome the chance to help out the folks who dragged me out of the desert and put me up for a few days. Even if I did shoot the fellah."

Peggy Carter has posed:
"Psh. I can obtain my own unwisely sweet selection when I feel like it. For now, you are rather more interesting than whatever slice of cake they have on display today." For the moment. Cravings might change quickly, but Peggy does seem to feel it is more important that their time displaced guest feels a bit more welcome.

She then gives Dottie a bit of a look as well, at that almost threatening smile, but returns it with a calm one of her own. "Underwood. You are welcome to join us as well. We were just having a little chat with Mr. Colt here. He's...adjusting to the modern day and age." With that invitation, Peggy does pull out a chair for herself and gingerly lowers herself down into the thing. She was unlikely to retrieve dessert now that she's down. She doesn't seem bothered by it. "So, how much have they told you about what happened to you?" It's Peggy's round about way of figuring out what he knows AND giving the table all a bit of background on the man across from them.

Melinda May has posed:
May pauses as Bobbi references the Utah anomaly. A wry smile touches her lips. She's had *waaaaay* too much up-close-and-personal experiences with time shit. Hell, she's got a temporal doppleganger running around somewhere -- whom she is perfectly happy to see stay far away from her and SHIELD. But that's a long story for another time.

"Yeah... being out of your own time and place isn't fun. Good luck, Mr. Colt." Yeah. That's the voice of experience talking. Even if she did manage to get some *really nifty toys* out of the deal.

She glances to Peggy. "I think there's a coconut cream cake, there," she tells her friend, gesturing with a nod toward the service line. "It's not pie, no, but..." She shrugs. Maybe baby will like it? Baby feels very alert to her, today.

Of course, Dottie approaches, fairly broadcastding PREDATOR all over the place and May has to fight not to roll her eyes, no longer intimidated by the woman or her unusual quirks. "You and I have a date with a forensics review later, by the way," she tells her. She sent a message. She's never sure if or when Dottie checks her messages (though she suspects the woman checks them often, but just likes to let on like she doesn't).

Dottie Underwood has posed:
"Aaaaaah," Dottie says, slipping into a seat. "Another walking anachronism. How many of us are there now?" she asks, her lips pulling to one side. The question is meant rhetorically. Time, even experienced linearly, has little meaning to most of the people gathered here. Or perhaps too much meaning. It depends, she supposes, upon how much one chooses to dwell.

She chooses to ignore May's work related statement. Yes, she checks her messages. No, she does not respond unless absolutely necessary. Some training is purely good espionage. Instead she turns to Colt.

"Did he die? The 'fellah' you shot?" Dottie asks, mimicking his accent as she says the word. It's professional curiosity, nothing more.

Bobbi Morse has posed:
One of the perils of working for SHIELD; time displaced dopplegangers are surprisingly common among the senior ranks. At the invitation to sit, Bobbi does so with her plate of disgustingly healthy food choices. Just because she's a super soldier doesn't mean she shouldn't eat healthy, after all!

"Thanks. I think I've run down a couple of the old Kid Colt dime novels if you're interested, by the way." To Dottie, Bobbi replies, "No, full recovery after extraction."

Blaine Colt has posed:
"They've told me plenty, but I didn't catch on to much. That time-traveling warlord type was dead set on taking over the place, but me and a few like-minded folk decided that didn't sit too well with us. Managed to get one over on him, but when he made move to turn tail, I must've got caught up in...what's the world that nice Doctor lady used? Wormhole." Blaine goes back to picking at his food, cutting off a bite of the steak and popping it into his mouth. He chews for a time and shrugs. "All I remember after that was him settin' in on me something fierce before he finally let up and threw me out. S'how I ended up here."

He lifts a napkin to wipe at his mouth and looks to Melinda and Dottie. He's no trained mega super spy, and it's easy to read the relief on his face that he's not alone in his plight. "Must've been wearing an old bedpan on his chest, like that one time I squared up with in Invisible Gunman. Slowed down the shot enough to keep me alive /and/ be able to figure out where he was standing. He didn't have no bedpan strapped to his chest, so far as I can tell."

"D'you find that one?" he asks of Bobbi.

Peggy Carter has posed:
It seems Peggy never quite made the connection, blame it on baby brain, or she's trying to make the displaced man feel a bit better. She blinks, doing a double take in Blaine's direction at Bobbi's words. "Wait. Kid Colt. They wrote those novels off of...You? You must be joking. I read those during the war, when we could get our hands on them." That's not a lie. It was one of the many dime novels passed between the boys, but Peggy definitely read them.

Dottie's question and too interested eyes gets a bit of a smirk from her. "Fortunately, our agent is tougher than a few bullets, especially considering the...Misunderstanding this all was."

She then gives May a little sigh as the other woman comments about the cake. She turns slightly whistful eyes towards the cafe's dessert case. "You should have warned me before I sat down." She then shifts forwards, leaning one hand on knee and the other on table. She will go get her own dessert herself, dammit. "One moment, all." Then she's pushing herself up and out. The coconut cake has won, it seems.

Bobbi Morse has posed:
"Correct, Chief." Bobbi confirms Kid Colt's identity, with a chuckle, "I imagine Coulson is absolutely fuming that I got Kid Colt while his latest case is some kid with radioactive boogers." Is there a hint of smug amusement from the Mockingbird? Surely not.

To Blaine's explanation she offers, "There were enhanced levels of tachyon radiation and other indicators of temporal travel, but faint enough to not be a threat or cause any kind of metagenetic crisis. He's also responded well to the various vaccine antibodies as far as I can tell from bloodwork, so no risk to anyone else or himself."

She shakes her head at Blaine's question. "No, not a paper copy. That one was part of an anthology that's out of print."

Melinda May has posed:
"Welcome to the age of superheroes," May says dryly to Colt, despite the fact the 'fellah' the old timer shot is older than any one else presently working for the agency. (Hard to beat Ancient Greece as a birthplace.) "Impossible doesn't exist any more."

She lays a hand on Peggy's shoulder and pushes her gently back into the chair. "Sit." She lays her pudding and tea in front of her. "Guard my stuff. I'll fetch yours." Gunblack tea and coconut cream cake. Easy order. "It'll be *quicker*." By far.

And she's totally unrepentant as she says it.

And, indeed, it's the truth. Fetching the cake takes her less than two minutes. She returns, placing both before her friend and reclaiming her green tea and pudding as recompense.

Blaine Colt has posed:
Chuckling softly and looking a touch embarrassed, Colt nods to Peggy. "Yes, ma'am. Doc here told me that they even wrote some comic books, too. The ones I seen seem a little dolled-up, though. The novels're a little bit closer to the facts of the matter. Little bit," he explains, grinning.

"Oh, we had some super folks back then, too," Colt notes to Melinda. "Lincoln was one of the folk who helped me out with Kang. The Night Rider. Always told him Ghost Rider would've been a cooler name. Especially since he wore all white."

Looking to Bobbi, Colt sucks his teeth and says, "That's a shame. That one's one of my favorites. There's another'n where I fight a wolfman. That one's pretty good, too."

Peggy Carter has posed:
There is a small glare from Peggy as May insists she remains sitting. The Chief looks very ready to snap at the woman, still perfectly capable of getting things for herself, but she knows that May will be faster. And she was trying to entertain a guest. "I could have gotten it, Commander." She grumbles firmly across her shoulder, but sinks back into her chair. She simply doesn't have the speed to beat Melinda May's stubbornness right now. She sighs, guarding the things and trying to swallow her own embarrassment.

"Well, bad news about the book, but I can set up a few internet searches for original copies. They'll cost a pretty penny, but would be worth having a few on hand. Good news about the vaccines, at least. It means once you're entirely cleared and mostly caught up, we can let you outside without risking you or anyone else's lives. Good, good. And they've showed you around all the facilities here?"

Melinda May has posed:
May gives Peggy an unapologetic look in reply. Yes. She *knows* very well just how irritated Peggy is with her, right now. She can feel it, after all. Picking up her tea, she smiles at her friend from behind the rim of the cup, pushing a hint of the baby's alert contentment at her friend with her empathic ability. There's no mistaking it for Peggy's own emotions; it's just a conscious reminder that, hey, the baby has emotions now and is just as happy to have the sugar available faster.

She listens to the conversation, but doesn't add a lot more. It's not like she's the most loquacious of women, after all. And she's never read the Kid Colt stuff.

Bobbi Morse has posed:
"I'll get you the information I found on the book, Chief." Bobbi says, already pulling out her phone to forward the relevant information to Peggy's official email address, "I did find an ebook of the entire collection, but don't know how comfortable you'd be using technology, Mr. Colt."

She looks about ready to say more when her phone begins to beep. She sighs, and picks her tray up. "Damn. Lost track of time. I'm running an experiment that's time sensitive." She glances over at Blaine, then back to Peggy. "Forgive me, Chief, Mr. Colt. Guess it's dinner bent over a mass spec again today."

Dottie Underwood has posed:
Dottie makes a moue of disappointment as the table confirms that the mark lived. There's only one target who has ever survived her -- well one and a half, thanks to time travel. This American Cowboy Man cannot be so good, not if the other 'fellah' lived.

But as she smiles over her plate, Dottie watches the table. Watches the expressions between Peg and May. Watches the folksy earnestness of the arrival. Watches the blonde woman chatter. She's interesting.

Since she's been too silent, Dottie pops in with, "What are your plans, Mr. Colt? Now that you're here..."

Mustn't let them think her too observant, too quiet.

Blaine Colt has posed:
"Don't go spending too much money on my account, now," Blaine offers, lifting a hand in protest. "And I've been shown around a few places. Still getting used to...televisions, so I mostly just use the rec room to read. One of the agent types said that y'all need to evaluate my gun hand, so I reckon it won't be long til one of y'all takes me to do some target practice. Reckon y'all got a room for that like y'all got a room for everything else," he notes.

Dottie's question has him shrugging in response. "Don't rightly know just yet. I've been told that you folk set out to keep things safe for honest folk. That's what I was trying to do back in my time, so two and two bein' four, I figure it makes sense to lend a hand where I can. Be an agent, as it were."

Peggy Carter has posed:
"Well, we do have some of the best gun hands around here. Ms. Underwood can likely outshoot most people at this table, when she sets her mind to it. Maybe she'd be up for helping with your evaluation? Commander May as well. Some of the most dangerous women in the world here." Peggy says that with a bit of a smile behind her words, clearly appreciative of the pair across the table from her. She gives Bobbi a small wave farewell, but doesn't move to keep the woman. She knows how time sensitive some things can be in a lab.

"And we won't be spending too much money, Mr. Colt. If we can get you a few things to make this transition a bit more... Comfortable, just say. I know you'd likely prefer to get back to your own time, but going back has proved... Even more challenging than forward in the past. This may be your new home, you do understand?"

Melinda May has posed:
"Either Morse or I can do your weapons and combat evals," May tells Colt, giving Bobbi a nod as she retreats. For her part, May makes it a policy to frequent the labs as little as possible. She figures it's safer for everyone that way.

She glances to Dottie as Colt offers a very upright answer to her question. The wry smirk she manages to keep from her lips still reaches her eyes. She can guess Dottie's thoughts about that.

Dottie Underwood has posed:
May's guess isn't far off. And the only way the table can tell is that Dottie Underwood's smile becomes less feral, more 'genuinely' pleasant.

"Is that so?" She asks sweetly. She looks absolutely enthralled, without a hint of overly-theatrical melodrama.

Blaine Colt has posed:
"Wouldn't turn down a helpin' hand from one of the most dangerous women in the world. Doesn't seem prudent," Blaine says with a grin. Peggy's next statement has him finally setting his knife and fork down on the table. His hands knit together in front of him and a thumb begins to massage at a knuckle and those baby blues of his lose a bit of their luster for a time. He eventually relents and says, "Chief Carter, the way I see it, I was dead the minute I drew down on Kang the Conqueror. My mind has been made up about that for a while. All of this?" he asks, gesturing around. "This is lagniappe."

Moving on, he looks to the other two ladies. "When I up and gone, the country decided I was some kind of saint. Some deified genuine article. Figure now it'd be downright sacrilege if I were to luck into this second chance and prove them wrong," he explains. He chews the inside of his cheek for a moment before he nods to nobody in particular and picks his utensils back up, sawing away at another bite.

Peggy Carter has posed:
As the conversation does continue and Peggy's ego is not quite so bruised, she does finally dive into that cake and tea that May has brought her. The cake especially. She wanted sweets and, at this point, if something didn't give her heartburn she'd happily eat it. She gives May a small tilt of her head in thanks for the things, even if she's still a little stinging over it. She doesn't like being helpless.

Then she's looking back between Dottie and Blaine. As the woman's smile changes a little bit more, Peggy's head tilts to the side and she listens to the pair, not going to interrupt this little conversation. She gives Blaine a brief, approving nod at his thoughts of the matter. At least it doesn't seem he'll need an emergency psychologist on top of everything, "That all seems an incredibly healthy attitude, Mr. Colt."

Melinda May has posed:
May's pudding disappears quickly enough. Those bowls are never big. She sips her tea to cleanse her palate. She can sense the man's sincerity. And silently, she hopes it's not shattered by what she cynically regards as the brutal reality of the modern age.

She lays her spoon down and sips at her tea. Like Peggy, she watches Dottie and Colt interact. Unlike Peggy, she can add the whole new layer her empathic abilities provide to her profiling experience... Which doesn't actually tell her a whole lot more, in this case, given who sits around the table.

Still, it's a distraction from the pressure constantly pushing at the edges of her awareness.

Dottie Underwood has posed:
The more normal Dottie seems, the more layers of emotional obfuscation she's piled atop her psyche. Internally she wonders how much of Mr. Colt's 'gosh-gee-whilkers' attitude is an act. He seems genuine enough? Which only makes her immediately suspicious.

"Well," she laughs. "Best of luck to you -- and your immemorial deification -- Mr. Colt." She only just stops her hand from raising her water glass in an ironic toast.

Blaine Colt has posed:
"Maybe the healthy attitude will make up for the cigarettes," Colt says, huffing softly and chowing down on some more red meat. He's really going to have a hard time coming to terms with the fact that effectively everything he enjoys is killing him. Next thing you know, somebody's going to be telling him that that cost-efficient lead paint is chocked full of carcinogens.

His eyes fall on Dottie for a time and his eyebrows knit together. He's got the good sense to know when someone's making fun of him, but he's also got the good manners not to make a stink about it and ruin his dinner. "Thank you, ma'am," he offers in response, nodding softly to her.

Peggy Carter has posed:
Peg has also just finished her cake and is nearly done sipping on her one allotted black tea for the day. She senses the odd tension between Blaine and Dottie, not near so much as May does, but she's a profiler. She knows what's going on. She's not going to let it go deeper. So, with empty plates on the table, Peggy pushes herself up to standing.

"Well, it was good to meet you properly, Colt. We'll start your proficency tests soon. Meanwhile, enjoy the accommodations. Always good to see you, Dot. Melinda." With that, Peggy gives a little nod in their direction and heads to put away her plate before waddling her way out and back to her office. Work waits for no one, even the Chief.