4762/Sonnez les matines

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Sonnez les matines
Date of Scene: 17 January 2021
Location: Central Park
Synopsis: Magical meeting in the park. The sound of the bells of the Cloisters is discussed briefly. This warrants more investigation!
Cast of Characters: Wanda Maximoff, Anthony Druid, Jethro Glass

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Dusk in the City. Warmer, damp with the rain that's just passed through, leaving behind something of a mist. The streets aren't quite wall to wall traffic in that it's the weekend, but there is still enough to truly keep the belief alive that it is a City that Never Sleeps.

Out in Central Park, the northern end near the Bridge and Columbia Presbyterian Hospital is a something that can only be described as a medieval monestary. On the maps, it's called 'The Cloisters'; a building that had originally been built in France back in the 9th century, only to be sent to the City in the early 20th century. Even in it's new location, it oozes history with every brick, every slab, every arch that monks through the centuries walked beneath.

And this evening, under a clouded sky with a partially obscured sliver of a moon, walks Wanda Maximoff. She's dressed for the weather; jeans, boots, red sweater with a leather, knee-length coat atop all. And on her head, a baseball cap that has 'Brooklyn Dodgers' emblazoned on the front. She's outside the building, standing on the grass, with her gaze settled on a spot where the bells would be located. She's got a middle distance stare, as if she's lost in her thoughts, ignoring most everything that goes on around her in the moment.

Anthony Druid has posed:
Anthony Druid is enjoying a bit of night air himself. One of the best parts of living in New York is that celebrities like himself are left relatively unmolested, recognized but unbothered except by the most gauche of tourists. He'd finished a taping cycle for the new season of The Dr. Druid Show earlier today and he's feeling weary but satisfied with his work.

Dr. Druid wears a long black woolen trenchcoat, almost a cape, over a black suit with a red tie with a gold pin. When he finds himself coming upon Wanda Maximoff, the marvellous Scarlt Witch, one of his fellow Avengers, he is surprised by pleased at the encounter.

"Something on your mid, good lady? I do hate to think you might be worried. A magnificent creature such as yourself deserves a life free of such troubles. It has been too long, Wanda, since our paths have crossed," he says.

Jethro Glass has posed:
     A small fire in central park. Controlled as smoke rises from the depths of the park. Setting in the orange glow is a lone figure dressed in simple grey cotton.

     He whistles quietly to himself stirring the pot atop a stack of wood. Atop his back all of his worldly possessions are stacked high though there are very few of them to be certain of that much.

     Most of the folks in the park take a wide berth around the hairy man with his twin revolvers at either hip and old fashioned black powder rifle on his backpack. He looks over towards the two for a moment pausing in his stirring as he sets back on that damp ground lifted up by his knapsack as the brim of his hat covers those eyes in a shadow of pitch black darkness leaving only the whites of his eyes visible through the reflection of the light like an animal in the night.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
While Wanda is lost in her thoughts, she's neither jumpy or completely unaware of her surroundings. So, when she's greeted, it takes her a moment to pull back to the 'here and now', her brows creased with the remnants of her thoughts. Turning slowly, there's a ghost of a smile, and she nods her acknowledgment before adding in a softly accented tone, "Doctor.." and she shakes her head soon after, both as an answer and perhaps to dispell any cobwebs in her mind. "No," she begins again, "I don't think so." If the words sound a touch insincere, they are. She's got a few doubts forming there, but for the moment, she can push them back for the here and now.

"It is good to see you. I guess things have been good for you?"

The fire in the park, well.. that had been going when she'd appeared, but the travels of people around it does gain at least a notice from the witch. The man that stands there... she stares at him for a long moment, her expression studying, pensive, before she glances back at the good doctor. "There is something.."

Anthony Druid has posed:
Anthony Druid can't help but puff up a bit, "I confess, the winds of fate have blown in my favor of late. Between the show, the podcasts, the books, I keep plenty busy, but not so busy that I can't enjoy a good walk or occasionally intervene against a supervillainous plot," he says mildly.

He follows Wanda's attention and allows his senses to expand, the roiling aura of mysticism that constantly spills around him reaching out towards Mr. Glass.

"Intriguing. Perhaps worthy of investigation as well. Come, Scarlet Witch, let us inquire about this perturbation."

Jethro Glass has posed:
     Standing by the fire the man smells of black powder and death, a combination which on its own wards off most of the folks traveling through the park. He's still got a little visitors pass for shield stuck onto his lapel left clipped on as he's forgotten to take it off. It's got his picture on it and his name Jethro Glass.

     He stirrs the pot before speaking up in a thick accent with a voice that's deep and bathed in gravel. "Didje brung suntin exter fer the pot?" He gives a smile of yellowed teeth worn down with age his eyes remaining hidden in the shadow of the rim of his hat as he boils some rabbit and deer meet in the pot on the flame. "Sit a spell, ain pizen, ner nutin" He adds after a moment motioning over with a bit of a friendly look across his face.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
The gent at the fire does flare up on her senses, and Wanda looks a touch apprehensive regarding an approach, but with a straightening of her back, she nods her acquiescence and begins her path beside the other mage. Her words are softly conversational, the light lilt pleasant, "Mansion is quiet, As quiet as could be." Which means, there's probably things going on. "Though, there is something I cannot see there." So, not quiet?

Wanda's hands are deep in her pockets on the approach, and in the man's greeting, she's canting her head as she attempts to translate what's just been said. Brows crease again, before that dawning of understanding crosses her face. Wanda has at least the courtesy of an apology written there, followed up with, "I am sorry. I could-" and looking around, she's checking perhaps for a food cart before she looks back, curious, and craning her neck to peer into the pot, she continues, "What is that?"

Anthony Druid has posed:
Anthony Druid comes from the Old Country, after all, so he can handle the accent a little better. He knows Welsh and Scots people, after all. He hovers a little, levitating from the ground and gliding a bit in Wanda's wake as they approach, "Hail and well met, stranger. That's a rather peculiar dialect you're speaking there. I don't know that I've heard its like. I am Anthony Druid, practitioner of the mystic and healing arts. This is the legendary Scarlet Witch. We cannot help but notice an aura of the wyrd and wondrous in your vicinity stranger. Might we enquire into your business here in the park this eve?" he says, lightly probing the region to make sure there are no hidden minds lying in ambush.

Jethro Glass has posed:
     "Vittles" Jethro offers holding up a spoon with a bit of a smile. He takes a long pause sighing a bit to himself as he clears his throat forcing himself to speak a bit more clearly. It's still got some of that accent to it but he's definitely worked on it to get himself right on it. "Have a mind for cookin, an a bit a huntin richeer, can't stand them uppity spaces."

     He shakes his head. "Not a Jugfulla good for a feller to be locked up in luxury." He nods his head back down to the pot once more. "Deer, rabbit, duck, some root, an some spice" He gives looks back over. "Mystic?"

     He pauses a long moment looking over towards the two. "Just me."

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
When her name is mentioned, Wanda gives a quick smile, and she pulls a hand from the depths of a pocket in order to wave quickly. She's dressed down, mostly incognito, and so is looking a lot less like an Avenger and more like 'just another person'. She allows the good doctor to do most of the talking, happy in being on the sidelines if only for the moment.

At Jethro's explanation of hearth and home, as it were, Wanda nods her understanding, and looks to prefer talking of the food rather than potential magicks. Still, it's only polite, and she answers easily, "Yes. As are you." There's a moment when she pauses before asking, "Have you heard bells from building there?" Gesturing towards the Cloisters, there's that momentary troubled look before it fades once more. "Lately?"

Anthony Druid has posed:
Anthony Druid hovers down to approach the pot, inhaling deeply. He's eaten some of the world's finest cuisine, but he's also eaten refuse on the streets of Calcutta. He doesn't have a particularly weak stomach. "Intriguing. Earthy, no doubt," he says. "I wonder, friend, where you come from, for it is certainly not from around here. Unless there, of course, is a hidden community of wildmen hidden within Greenwich village. Which I would not doubt."

He smiles, "No offense intended, of course, good sir." Wanda's question about the bells draws his attention as well, head cocked curiously.

Jethro Glass has posed:
     Jethro nods his head down low stirring the pot yet again. "Heard it ring nigh three times a week." He lifts up the spoon and takes a taste of the mix nodding his head again at the taste of the thing before adding in a sprig of root from his pouch that it looks as if he's collected himself.

     The man's got a determined look in his eye as he swirls that pot round and round checking the mix every so often. "Loud enough to scare the birds." He pauses a moment before introducing himself. "Captain Jethro Glass of the 1st Texas Sharpshooters" A pause for another try of that soup mix as he seems contented with how its turned out finally. "And I's from 1865." He says it with such conviction that he almost doesn't sound completely insane when he speaks the words.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda can feel the shiver go down her spine in the answer; it's not something she wanted to hear, but it was something that perhaps she'd known, even without actually //hearing// it. "I hoped I was wrong," is murmured.

With the introduction, however, now there's something she can work with, and stepping around the fire, she extends a small, delicately-boned hand. "A pleasure." When he continues, offering up the year, Wanda pauses once more in the middle of the greeting, staring at him for a long moment, studying him. "Yes," and she nods. "I'm sorry.." even if it's not her fault! She actually does believe him...

Anthony Druid has posed:
Anthony Druid furrows his bushy brows at Wanda, "Is this some omen of which I'm unaware, Wanda? You've gone white as a sheet at the mention of these bells..." he says with concern.

To Jethro's explanation, "Ah, taht would explain a great deal. I believe you, for I leave the skepticism to others." As a psychiatrist, he also knows that, even if Jethro is merely delusional rather than time-displaced, scoffing at his origins is no kindness. "I suppose you won't be particularly impressed by my television credentials, then. I do hope you'll refrain from any sharpshooting around here, though. The local constabulary does frown upon that sort of thing."

Jethro Glass has posed:
     "Narry Heerd a telly-vision, so can't say it'd impress me none." Jethro mentions with a bit of a smile and a laugh. "Tho ifn yous happy to work on it then I's happy for you." He gives a genuine friendly smile about that not a mean bone in his body as he says the words.

     His expression turns concerned as he looks over towards Wanda for a long moment. He looks her over checking to see if something's wrong tilting his head slightly to one side.

     "Been here bouts a month now, Aint cuttin shines when I say I don't know much more'n when I gots here." He pauses a moment looking back down towards that badge of his. "Them there Brotherhood Of The Shield folks though been mighty kind, settin me up with a place to rest my head, sin to crocket it's so high falootin though."

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda glances towards Anthony, the concern pasted on her face. She's retrieved her hand, and it's placed back deep into her pocket for warmth, and now perhaps a touch of security. "I don't know," is coupled with a shake of her head. Her voice lowers so that it doesn't carry too much farther afield than the two that are in company. "There are no bells." As if that should say it all? "I do not know how it rings or why." It just does.



"Is not good sign. I came out here tonight because I felt it would sound. Perhaps I was wrong." With those last words, the witch does sound a touch hopeful, her tones rising with the belief that perhaps she could be.

"A month?" Wanda fashions her words to sound interested, and she is, "How did you get here? If I may ask?" She may have answers, at the very least of the 'how', but not necessarily of the 'how to get him back' sort.

Anthony Druid has posed:
Anthony Druid nods at Jethro, "I am very pleased to be working there. I appreciate your support," he says. He knows his producer would be yelling at him to try and get Jethro on the show, but he wasn't sure it was either safe or ethical to try and exploit the wildman.

"No bells?" he asks. "The sound of bells where none should be. A signal of some sort? A warning?" he asks Wanda, "What manner of harbinger might those sounding bring?"

Jethro Glass has posed:
     "Hmm" Jethro takes a long moment to think to himself leaning down on his pack as he spoons up a bowl of his chow for himself and one for each of his guests in spite of if they want to eat or not. He looks down towards the bowl a long moment. "Minds me of Magnum, in the fall of 48" He sips from his bowl. "Church was desecrated by madmen, an buncha criminals stole the bell, erry night the bell would toll and folks'd wake up an walk to that church outta sorts possessed by some sorta daemon, only thing what stopped it was returnin' the bell, an consecreatin the ground."

     He takes a long sip from his bowl of soup, before looking back to the other two. "Bit of a long story." In response to how he got here.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
"Signal? Warning?"

Wanda isn't certain, and the repeating of the words is simply acknowledging that she doesn't know. The worried look returns, the understanding that she doesn't know and maybe there should be a way for her //to// know beause, well... she needs to. She has a need to keep people safe.

She recovers quickly, though not easily, from that look in the middle distance back to the 'now', and pulling her hands from her pockets, she wraps them about her. "Demons?" Shaking her head, Wanda exhales in a chuff. "There are in many places, but not there." Of that, she is certain. "Though.."

She looks between the men, and with a game smile, she takes a step back as if to remove herself. "I should go. I need to find out why before it sounds again." And she's grateful for the fact that she was wrong regarding the timing, at the very least.

"Excuse me. I am sorry."