4398/Historical Accuracy

Historical Accuracy
Date of Scene:	14 December 2020
Location:	A large park in the Bronx.
Synopsis:	A fireside chat, rabbit stew and a black powder gun accurate enough to hit a mosquito.
Cast of Characters:	Peter Parker, Jessica Drew, Jethro Glass

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Peter Parker has posed:
Spider-Man usually doesn't go to this part of the Bronx. Probably because gangbangers and stickup men don't find much to work with in the middle of the forest. Urban jungles are more their speed.

Spider-Man is here because he has promizes to keep. That would be the reason for the cloth rifle case he has slung over one shoulder. He also doesn't get to see Jessica much, and he had hoped she has some say in the care and feeding of one Jethro Glass of Indiana.

He lands on the grass near the squat building on the southern border of Pelham Bay Park, a forested area three times the size of Central Park. He frowned. It looked like a Forest Service building, not a SHIELD facility.

<Miss Drew? Webhead here. Am...I in the right place?>

Jessica Drew has posed:
The secrets of SHIELD. They are so many and so far-reaching that Jessica doubts that any one person has an inventory of them. Among them are the buildings that SHIELD has access to or outright owns.

Their meeting place had likely been a Park Service building at its inception but SHIELD which moves in mysterious ways has some rights to it now.

Senses deployed in full, she listens to the area, sniffs lightly and turns in place getting a feel for the light filtering through the trees. Some of which probably date to the purchase of New York City from the original inhabitants.

The subject, the man that Jessica has under her aegis as his handler has a wildness to him. To put him more at ease, she has chosen SHIELD black, the form fitting suit in high tech fiber that is body armor and night camo. He would likely be more comfortable to see her in a long dress, something closer to the time he claims to be from. It's the best she can do on short notice.

Spider-Man's landing into the web of her senses is as light as a spider's foot on a gossamer web, it has his unique signature. "So, it would seem. We're still waiting," she says, face turned up to him.

Peter Parker has posed:
Spidey nods, spotting Jessica after a moment. He waves, then approaches her. "I...I'm glad you're helping Mr. Glass. I didn't know if you knew what happened, I didn't see any SHIELD types there. So...if you want to hear my eyewitness account, since I was there for almost all of it...I'd like to help any way I can." He pauses. "I hope I can help Mr. Glass with this, as well."

Jessica Drew has posed:
"I'm all ears besides being just plain curious. Do you mind if I record? It will help with my field report later." She gestures to a set of benches outside the building then walks over to one to seat herself. "Think he will show?"

Peter Parker has posed:
Spidey nods. "I hope so. I have something for him. He brought it with him, but I don't think it would have been a good idea to bring it to a SHIELD facility with him."

He walks over to the bench, sitting down next to Jessica.

"Okay...let me know when you ar erecording and I will begin."

Jessica Drew has posed:
A touch to the shoulder of her uniform sets voice record, it beeps softly into the mini-headset that is nestled behind her ear. With a brief grin, she nods, "Ready when you are. I like stories, it's the little girl in me."

Peter Parker has posed:
Spider-Man takes a deep breath. "Spider-Man, recounting the events that happened in Central Park, New York, December 10th, 2020. Four PM Eastern Standard Time."

He is polite, clear, but as unemotional as he can be. Just the facts, ma'am, like they used to say on DRAGNET.

"Arrived onsite to document a storm cell in a highly-localized area. Providing pictures One through Thirteen to Agent Drew at this time, to be included in the report."
He hands over a series of pictures taken by the 12-MP camera in the drone of the storm clouds, the sudden and confined downpour, and the last three display a ball of electrical energy growing in size at ground level.

Jessica Drew has posed:
Another touch to her shoulder and a nearly invisible lens is uncovered, the SHIELD body cam being light years in advance of the majority of law enforcement agencies worldwide; its high resolution camera copies the pictures that Spider-Man hands her. Double insurance having the digital and physical photos, the physical copies will go into her backpack. She holds them up, a little off-center to capture them, then lays down each picture as she snaps it on the bench beside her .

"Go ahead, I can do this and listen, too. A storm-cell. That's interesting." She makes a little circular gesture for him to continue.

Peter Parker has posed:
Spider-Man nods. "Okay. After the ball of energy reached the size of a small house, it seems to gradually become opaque, then transparent, displaying a scene of soldiers on the battlefield." He hands over more pictures, explaining them as he does. "These are two groups, recognizable as soldiers belonging to the Confederate and Union armies of the American Civil War, 1861-1865 AD. Now...there was no standard military engagement. In fact, the combat was restricted to two soldiers, one Union, on Confederate."

Jessica Drew has posed:
Jessica holds the photograph up to examine it then add it to the growing file. "A soldier from each side of the conflict fighting?" She repeats back her, voice neutral, to confirm her understanding. Her expression, in contrast, is mildly wide-eyed at what she is seeing - a portal into another world in time.

Peter Parker has posed:
Spider-Man nods. "If I could hazard a guess, I would say two officers dueling. One a Union general, the other a lower-level officer, I think. Picture 21 is a closeup of the two. One observation I feel I can make safely, though...they are related by blood."

Jessica Drew has posed:
"Really?" She leans to scan the photo more closely, her eyes moving between the two faces to compare them.

"One of the saddest elements of the whole conflict from what I understand," she murmurs. "Civil wars often are - brother against brother and families rent in two. I can see how they have a family resemblance. So, what happened?"

Peter Parker has posed:
Spider-Man takes out some more pictures. One of them is of a cavalry sword wielded by the Confederate soldier, encrusted with jewels and conducting a lightning strike directly at a medallion, of South American origin (Incan, if analyzed) and quite ancient.

"Now...not that the positions of all the people in this tableau do not change. In fact, none of them move until a drone run by a separate team tries to enter the scene, seeing if it is some kind of portal."

He takes out six more pictures. "This is what happened immediately."
The first of the six show the soldiers, now in a slightly-different position. The medallion shows telltale fractures, coming apart.

The rest depict the developing stages of the resulting explosion.
In the fourth shot, the Confederate is flying towards and to the left of the camera.
In the fifth, there is the image of the Union general ALSO propelled from the explosion, but in almost the opposite direction.

Spider-Man blinks as he looks at the fifth picture. "Okay...I didn't see this before. Apparently his opponent also came from this...gateway."

Jessica Drew has posed:
Each successive picture is recorded and studied with growing disbelief on Jessica's part. Unconsciously shaking her head, "A portal opened into time creating a storm of sorts... Did you say there was another team on hand?"

She turns her head to look at Spider-Man but the pictures draw her back into their story. "Incan artifact. Did it come through? Or the pieces? Don't let me stop you. Go ahead."

Peter Parker has posed:
Spider-Man hmmed. "I don't know. Could have been NYPD, could have been another group. I got pictures of them, but I didn't determine any insignia."

He pauses, then continues.
The Confed soldier lands close by. One of the objects that comes out with him, I caught."
Spider-Man unslings the rifle case, then unzips it and pulls the cloth flap back to reveal a rifle. The tag on the trigger guard says, "WINTHROP SNIPER RIFLE WITH SIDE-MOUNTED TELESCOPIC SIGHT. AKA "LUCILLE."

The rifle has been cleaned recently, the metal gleaming in the dim light.

Jessica Drew has posed:
"Incredible. So a vintage rifle and a man came through? But not the artifact?" Jessica picks up one of the pictures to examine. "I hope it was NYPD and not another organization or organizations." She does not say HYDRA aloud. The competition between SHIELD and their nemesis for artifacts of power has often been bloody.

"Jethro Glass is the confederate soldier then that I am supposed to be handling?" Straightening, she sweeps the area, listening but nothing in her spider senses tell her that he is within range.

Peter Parker has posed:
Spidey nods. "He had a moderate laceration across the chest. I was able to close the wound with bandages and a medical stapler." He looks around. "I didn't feel like I was a good source to help a man who'd been shoved forward about 170 years, so...I called Agent Watson of Los Angeles, and she said she'd reach out to colleagues in New York."

He looks around. "And...here we are."
He takes a micro-SD memory card from the backpack, held in a small plastic case, and hands it over to Jessica. "Full video of the event. Those pictures are basically stills from this video."

Jessica Drew has posed:
"And here I am," Jessic says with an ironic flourish and a faint smile, pocketing the card. "Now, where is he?"

The smile fades as she reviews some of what Spider-Man said. "Where did you do the surgery? Was he conscious? If he was, he must have been very unsettled at being stapled together by a stranger."

Peter Parker has posed:
Spider-Man smiles sadly. "On the north field. I carry a fully-equipped medical kit in my backpack. I had antiseptic, medical-grade staples, and sterile bandages."

Because the Spider-Sense can only help you so much, and then it's bullet time. And not in the Matrix way.

Jessica Drew has posed:
With Spider-Man gone, Jessica finds herself idling alone in the woods as the shadows grow longer. The sun is a red orb through the trees, the temperatures dropping. Spider senses stretched in a net around her, she relaxes enough to study the pictures that Spidey left, puzzling over what kind of artifact opened the portal in time. Frowning, she concentrates on the medallion, her dark head bowed over the phone she has loaded the pictures on.

Jethro Glass has posed:
     A lone figure walks out from the woods carrying a small stack of busted up wood logs under one arm and a dead rabbit by the ears in the other hand. He's dressed in such a way where he's got everything he might own carried right on his person, the sort that lives on the land.

     He walks over towards the middle of the clearing and sets down the logs one after another before pulling his pot off his back and setting it down atop the stack of wood and placing the prepped hair down into the worn metal bowl like object already full to the brim with water.

     He doesn't say a word as he kneels himself down beside it smelling like he'd lived himself out here for a lifetime or more an old school pipe stuck out the corner of his mouth smouldering away smoke as he pulls a couple rocks ready to light the fire and cook up a quick meal.

     "Gallnippers out in force." He finally says the mans first words dripping with a thick accent as he tips his hat towards Jessica.

Jessica Drew has posed:
The first scuff of feet on damp leaf raises Jessica's head, unerringly she finds the direction it came from and watches steadily as the man appears carrying all the necessities of life on his person as well as dinner. Wordlessly, she watches him go efficiently about the business of building a fire, the smoke from the pipe stuck out of the corner of his mouth acrid on the chill air.

The pair are a study in contrasts, Jessica a shadow in her black bullet proof SHIELD uniform, the man, by far, the more organic of the two, in smell and appearance.

"Evening. Gallnippers?" she replies in a clipped British accent, rising from her seat.

Jethro Glass has posed:
     "Gallnippers" The man repeats working through the motions as he had a few thousand times before. He sets himself down by the fire getting comfortable as he looks out over the tree line and towards those far off skyscrapers in the distance still trying to get himself used to this new world that he's found himself in.

     He's silent for a moment before he takes another moment's pause for thought before he just rapid fire draws his colt walker and fires out of the blue at a seemingly random spot in the air.

     The round bounds off of a nearby tree and into another splitting off a bit of spare metal and fragmenting into smaller parts. While most of the round goes into the ground harmlessly a much smaller fragment manages to stab through the air pinning something to a downed log near the pair.

     Sure enough sputtering against that log there's an oversized mosquito fluttering with its wing pinned by a bit of shrapnel into place sure as the day is long.

Jessica Drew has posed:
The adrenaline has barely enough time to hit Jessica's system before the man has drawn, aimed and nabbed his prey. Even with her souped up spider vision Jessica is not certain what he nabbed then she zeros in on the frantic, end of life flapping of two tiny wings.

A step closer brings it into view. Her mouth opens slightly as she considers the trajectory and calculations done in a micro-second to accomplish that shot.

She closes it impressed, saying conversationally, "Gallnippers then. End of the season, ferocious enough to face the coming cold but not for long. We just had a warm spell that woke up the tough ones. My name is Jessica Drew, by the way."

Jethro Glass has posed:
     "Captain Jethro Glass of the 1st Texas Sharpshooters." The tone is firm yet conversational as the smoke slowly rolls off the end of his gun. He flicks open the cylinder of the firearm and goes through the motions stuffing in a charge of powder, a wad, and a round of lead to fill the opening before flicking it back shut and tossing the revolver back down into his hip. His voice is slow and rough worn down with grit and age

     He takes his hat down from his head for a low tip as he puffs away on his pipe. "Pleasure to make your quantance." He gives a light smile of slightly yellowed teeth as he seals the holster strap back over his pistol and goes back to tending at the fire.

Jessica Drew has posed:
"How do you do." Jessica gives him a dip of her head that would be worthy of any 19th Century ballroom or parlor.

Approaching closer, she observes, "You seem to have had an interesting time of it recently. Not something that most of us go through. May I join you?"

Jethro Glass has posed:
     "Afeard I can't argie agin it, sit a spell and jaw." Jethro takes his time to stir the pot before adding in some simple spices. It's nothing too complex, just a little bit of this and that brought with him from who knows where and dried as a keepsake for making meals taste that little bit better. He takes a quick sniff of a bottle making sure it still smells good before dumping a bit of the contents which turn the water from clear to brown staining the cooking rabbit meat in the pot as it swirls about. He throws the lid back onto the pot and sets himself down for a bit of R&R. "Aint ezactly seem fittin to beat trail for dixie. I'm already might backaards, by current standards." His slow southern drawl permeates each and every word drawing each syllable into practically its own sentence a labour of love getting the word out.

Jessica Drew has posed:
The man's drawl brings a faint smile to Jessica's face, it reminds her of some northern English accents, slow and syrupy. But she still has to parse some of his expressions, remembering at last that Dixie would be the south. She looks around for a place to sit and then settles on the ground, crosslegged.

Trying hard not to overwhelm Jethro or drive him away, she says, alternately looking at the fire and at his face, "It's the reason I'm here, so you know. To help with that. You are not only a man out of time but someone with a lot of talent. I work for a branch of the United States government, the one, well, the one that has been in existence since the conflict you were in ended, that works with people like yourself."

Jethro Glass has posed:
     Jethro nodds his head taking a long and relaxed drag from his pipe. Smoke rolls from his mouth like a great dragon up and into the clouds. It's clear he enjoys his tobacco in any case. He seems to be taking the whole thing fairly well all things considered, as he looks up towards that sky watching as another of those strange sets of lights flies overhead that he doesn't recognize. Might as well be aliens to him.

     "Shield yeah?" He confirms after a fashion, his head bobbing slowly as he pulls his banjo off of his pack and just starts to make sure it's still in tune. It's been a little while since he's been able to just relax and play a few bars without being shot at and he's clearly fond of taking the opportunity.

Jessica Drew has posed:
"Exactly." A little rocking motion, her hands on her ankle, showing her satisfaction at having crossed that hurdle. She tracks his look at the jet passing overhead.

"SHIELD, yes. They brought me in from the cold, so to speak, a few years ago. Not quite the same circumstances but I am also quite talented in my way."

There is no rush and something in his attitude cues Jessica that he won't take to being rushed. The banjo notes are sweet and loud in the quiet. "At the least, they can make sure you are not bothered here. Though, they can certainly do more for you."

Jethro Glass has posed:
     Jethro's foot slowly taps as he just plays some notes out into the air. He's in no hurry as the food boils away slowly cooking and taking its time. "With that exter kit," He nods his head to the fancy looking clothes she's wearing that strange bit of armor. "druther think so." He adjusts his tune ever so slightly making sure he's just in the right key before resuming that slow playing as the fire crackles away.

     He closes those eyes lightly as he plays just letting the music carry him an old mournful tune not any particular song or melody just the song that's on his heart drifting off into the woods.

     After a bit he speaks again. "Ain't agin doin good."

Jessica Drew has posed:
Jessica looks down on herself, one shoulder lifting in a shrug. Short of wearing long skirts she doubts that there would be anything that he would be used to seeing on a woman from this century. "It works, too. The armor, that is. It spreads the impact out into the fibers so that a bullet doesn't leave a hole in you or a sword," she adds pointedly. "You'd likely have a suit like this, too. Women no longer dress the way they did in your time."

Jethro Glass has posed:
     "Buildin's don't look the same, carriages don't look the same, why'd anyone dress the same" Jethro asks in a rather nonchalant tone as he plucks away at his banjo slow and steady while the water just boils away in the pot. His eyes keep up on that sky as the sun slowly continues to dip away further and further down on the sky.

     He gives another flash of those off yellow teeth as he just nestles himself into his large backpack clearly just enjoying that outdoor air more than most anything in the world. "Can't say I'm none too keen on the fashion but figure I'll stick out enough on my own without dressin silly."

Jessica Drew has posed:
His sly humor earns a spark of laughter from her, she smiles briefly, the fire lighting the planes of her cheeks. "I don't dress like this on the streets of the city unless I am involved in a firefight or expect one. It's not everyday dress." She picks up a twig and draws on a patch of bare ground.

"Nor would you. You could dress fairly close to what you do now, truth be told. Men's fashions don't change nearly as fast as women's except for fancy dress. SHIELD would take care of your needs is another way to look at it." She raises an eyebrow, waiting for his reaction, remembering her own when a similar offer was made.

Jethro Glass has posed:
     Jethro plays slow and steady for a time letting her give him the sales pitch, he nods along taking things nice and slow in the crackle of the fire just hitting those notes with a warm glide of his hand up and down the neck of that classic style 1776 banjo in his hands. There's no big shock on his face, just another low nod of his head as he says quite calm. "Give me access to some huntin' land, a general store, and I'll handle the rest."

     He looks down from the sky and over her direction. "Played Sheriff once or twice, mite bit cleaner then playing soldier." He takes another drag from his pipe. "You throw in a paypacket and I won't turn it down, but I'd settle for some backie." A light shake of his pipe in his mouth to send the point across.

Jessica Drew has posed:
Some might mistake his accent for a backwoods hick with little education or savvy. Jessica's nod of approbation says the opposite. Smart man. "Nobody works for free. The pay is better than a lot of government jobs. That's just what we do: sheriff. Though not just locally. It depends on the situation and who we're fighting."

She shifts, readjusting the cross of her legs before gazing at him, head tilted to one side, "I can't speak for land. Your pay would be enough to buy something, I think. The high mucky-mucks would have to have a say about that. We can arrange for a general store or bring you a selection of goods, I'm sure. Get you a place to sleep, etc." She pauses, "Ah, tobacco? Pipe tobacco? No reason why not. Likely people will let you know if you can smoke it around them."

Jethro Glass has posed:
     Jethro nods his head once again slowly but surely. He's still just a strumming along on that banjo of his. He looks down towards his hands for the first time since he's started playing just to see those strings and plays just a little bit faster as he gets into the groove. "Sounds like a deal." He says after a long time of just silently playing his banjo.

     Finally he stops playing and pulls out some tongs from his backpack and starts pulling out some mess kit. He plates up the freshly boiled rabbit and offers a plate towards Jessica. It's not the best cooked, and the boiling takes most of the flavor away, but hey food's food.

Jessica Drew has posed:
"I will let them know," caps the conversation concerning SHIELD. The food though plain was surprisingly delicious, the talk slow and formal, bespeaking another time and place.

After an hour, Jessica rises to leave for the city. "I will let them know what you've said, Jethro. Take care. Be wary, too. Weapons have changed and become very deadly."

She pauses, searching for more to say, "Just. Watch out. A lot of people might not have your best interests at heart."