4785/Days of Yore

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Days of Yore
Date of Scene: 18 January 2021
Location: Saint Patrick's Cathedral
Synopsis: Jethro searches out another time-displaced individual in the person of Steve Rogers.
Cast of Characters: Steve Rogers, Jethro Glass

Steve Rogers has posed:
The support group for veterans dealing with traumatic issues lets out, a number of men and women passing out of the door that leads down to the rooms in the church's basement. A few are chatting, others are quiet, alone with their thoughts.

Steve Rogers is one of the last few to depart. "I think you're doing the right thing," he says to a grizzled looking man who accompanies Steve out. "Keep taking it one day at a time. And remember you have people here when you need them," he says. The other man shakes Steve's hand and murmurs a few words of thanks before departing. Steve pauses to make sure everyone is out before turning to continue on his way himself.

Jethro Glass has posed:
     A cool wind blows through the parking lot of the church a lone figure still stood out in the dark of the parking lot. Atop his back is a tall stack of seemingly everything the man owns. From a bedroll to cooking pot. His life's possessions all lobbed up high on a simple leather pack.

     The man stinks of black powder and death and though his clothes are clean there's still the unmistakable air of a hunter about him that's far from the modern sort. He's stood blocked by a man who's quiet plainly the closest thing the church really has to security for this little meeting, and it looks as the folks come up as if he's been there for some time.

     Jethro peaks over one side of the man's shoulder looking at the faces coming out his thick wiry beard and hair to match well groomed but still holding that look of a man living off the land.

     "You can't go in like that sir." The man offers once more clearly attempting to handle the situation with tact and care as he holds his hands up. "The meeting's ended by now." Trying to put on a bit of a smile as he tries to wave Jethro off. "This isn't the place for re-enactors."

     The guards name was Rich, and he was good stock. Nice enough guy but a bit picky when it came to the rules on how folks were supposed to show up for any sort of meeting at the church. It was something that had always gotten him into conflict with the people renting the place out, but he hadn't flunked out of OTC to let his standards slip.

Steve Rogers has posed:
Steve pulls on a leather jacket and gloves, and has a motorcycle helmet in hand. "I really should think about a car," he comments to himself as he looks out at the cold night outside.

That's when he spots Rich and Jethro, his eyes taking in the details of the latter man. He walks over towards them, footsteps crossing the front of the church to where they stand by the open door as the last of the meeting participants depart.

"Evening Rich. Everything ok?" he asks, offering a friendly enough smile to both men as he approaches.

Jethro Glass has posed:
     "Captain Rogers" Rich offers moving his head over to one side. His body language still blocks Jethro slightly as he makes his turn. "I've been trying to explain to our re-enactor friend here that he missed the meeting." He chuckles to himself obviously a little bit off put by the wildman. "And that we still have a bit of a dress code." He motions with his eyes towards the large backpack along with the black powder revolver in its holster on Jethros hip.

     Jethro pauses a moment unshouldering his pack. He lowers it down to the ground and a whitworth rifle becomes visible heavily customized with gold Damascening across the surface of the one of a kind weapon depicting a lifetime's worth of 19th century conflicts.

     Jethro is silent for a long moment sizing up Steve. The markings on his own clothing signify him as a Captain in the 1st Texas Sharpshooters, the grey uniform signifying which side all on its own.

Steve Rogers has posed:
"Well, we don't really discriminate based on period of service," Steve says, though it's mostly a joke. He probably doesn't not expect that Jethro is authentic in that regard. But on the chance that the man actually does need the kind of help that the meeting provides, Steve says, "The meeting actually just let out. Though if you were looking for someone to talk to until the next time, I have a little time," he offers to Jethro.

Steve gives Rich a nod and then steps outside, over nearer to Jethro. His attire gets a brief glance from Steve, most likely checking the weapons first, old habits dying hard. For that matter, they are habits that have been worth keeping up with in 2017 and beyond.

Jethro Glass has posed:
     An approval from Richards is all it takes for Rich to nod his head and give a bit of a chuckle before moving back to help with cleanup. His frame slowly vanishes into the building as he walks through the door clearly expecting the legendary captain america to be able to handle himself.

     Jethro's weapons show a love and care that's uncommon of even many collectors in the modern day mixed in with the wear and tear of someone who's used them every day for a long time. The cylinder of his blackpowder revolver depicts a child kneeling down in the midst of open plains beside two bodies clearly a custom job the handle stamped with the official seal of the Texas Army. Those weapons aren't just for show, and they've been used recently.

     "Shame." Jethro finally speaks up with a thick accent, his voice filled with gravel like a long road paved with broken glass. He reaches into his pocket and pulls an old style corn cob pipe made from a literal corn cob, and a wooden box. "Captain Jethro Glass" He packs the pipe with tobacco from a paper bag, and strikes a match in one fluid motion filling the air with a horrid stench unlike any modern match. It's a mix of antimony sulfide, potassium chlorate, gum, and starch. The sound that comes from the match is distinctive and unique.

     He sighs for a long moment.

     "Plum tuckered out by this new world." He sets himself down against his pack of goods using it as a bit of a bench. The white phosphorus in his match leaves behind that terrible odor. "How's a feller adjust?"

Steve Rogers has posed:
Steve Rogers doesn't quite seem to know what to make of the moment. Reenactors are a more modern thing, so even Rich's assumptions are not ones that Steve has to fall back on. "There's quite a bit here that can be tiring," Steve agrees, picking a course through the middle of the possibilities. "Steve Rogers," he offers back, without giving a rank.

"Was there something that you were hoping to talk about with someone tonight, Captain Glass?" Steve asks, apparently missing the literal aspect of Jethro's previous comment. Steve motions towards the sidewalk in front of the church. "I think there's a spot down on the corner we can grab a cup of coffee and talk if you'd like," he offers.

Jethro Glass has posed:
     Jethro pushes himself up to a stand taking Steve's hand and giving it a firm shake before collecting his pack once more tossing it onto his back throwing it wrapped round into place best that he can. He gives a bit of a firm nod of the head before motioning for Steve to lead the way. His shield visitors badge becomes visible only once he's thrown the pack right back on falling into place.

     "Reckon I would." He starts walking with the practiced gate of a man who's skilled in the art of walking without making a sound, each step calculated out to avoid rustling the brush and waking his target. He looks up towards the street lights with a despondent expression on his face a frown crossing those lips. "Huffed you can't see the stars no more." He mentions nodding towards the light pollution sources in all directions.

Steve Rogers has posed:
Steve's eyes catch that familiar badge as it swings on the lanyard. One eyebrow goes up just slightly, though he doesn't say anything about the visitor ID for the moment. "Yes. Who would have thought we could put out so much light that it would make the stars fade?" he says as he looks up towards the night sky as well for a moment.

They walk along the sidewalk together, the streets only sparsely populated this late, and mostly by people hurrying home, huddled against the cold. "So were you coming looking for a meeting tonight? Or for me," Steve asks him as they approach a small diner. The Christmas-specific decorations are down though a bit of wintery decor in the form of a snowman and some snowflakes on the window have been left behind.

Steve opens the door for Jethro, the inviting warmth of the interior felt as soon as they step through the doorway. A woman is working behind the old Formica counter, and the sizzle of food on the flattop in the kitchen can be heard through the window in the wall where the orders and food go back and forth. "Two cups of coffee?" Steve asks the waitress as he leads the way to a booth, opening up his jacket but leaving it on for now as he takes a seat.

Jethro Glass has posed:
     Jethro shakes his head looking from the cars to the busses and lights so many sights and sounds in all directions that it's all a bit overwhelming really he just stays quiet for most of the walk. When the question comes up he responds.

     "You" No poking or prodding needed as Jethro walks through that door. He makes his way to the counter setting his bag back down onto the ground with a light clatter. He leans his way down over the counter finally taking off his hat. The spitting image of Clint Eastwood in his younger years beneath all the hair and grime of outdoor living. He sets that old cap down onto the top of his bag and attempts to lift his chair to sit at the bar only to realize it's bolted to the ground.

     It catches him off guard and sends him off of his footing for a moment before he just twists it in his hand turning it back and forth. He pauses a moment before collecting his bag and moving over to the booth that steve had walked to sliding in first his backpack and second himself.

     "Young Buck by the name of Barnes said we might have something in common." He pulls off that cotten jacket revealing his more respectable undershirt and a glimpse at the massive amount of reconstructive surgery that shield had to do to him just under a month ago to even get him walking again. "Both lost some time."

Steve Rogers has posed:
The waitress might not quite stare, but she comes near enough to it as she gets an eyeful of Jethro's attire. Eventually she stirs and gets back into motion, going and getting the coffee pot and bringing two cups out to their table. She fills it up, trying to be less obvious as she eyes Jethro. He has enough of her focus that she doesn't even recognize Steve. "Here you go," she tells them, and sets down two menus for them before returning behind the counter.

"Help yourself, my treat, if you're hungry," Steve says with a motion towards the menu. So you spoke to Bucky," Steve says, the latter a confirmation not a question. "If the time you lost was in the same fashion as mine, I gather there was quite a lot more of it gone than myself. What's your story, Captain?"

Jethro Glass has posed:
     "Brother was a kinslayer." Jethro comments as he settles himself in not looking over the menu as he sets himself down into place. "Union sponsored." He shakes his head. "The 'federacy brought me on to hunt down their city of gold, same as the union brought him, after he murdered my two boys, an put their heads on pikes." He speaks with a grim voice as he flips up that coffee cup having seen enough other people do it when they wanted coffee to know it's tradition at this point.

     "Said his own nephews were spies." He shakes his head. "Tracked him years to the Juarez mountains, had mind to kill him, but when I found him he weren't in his head."

     No doubt the waitress is doing a fair bit of confused blinking as she half hears the story pouring coffee into the cups waiting for the order. Her look one of confusion. "Somethin took gods gift right out of him an his men, left behind nothin but greed, an hate, an the strength of ten men." He pauses. "We fought, I got struck by the wrath a god, a bolt of lightnin, an I woke up in Central Park with that Spider-Man lookin over me."

Steve Rogers has posed:
Steve listens quietly, taking a sip of his coffee after testing it to make sure that it isn't too hot. There would no doubt be many who would look at Jethro like the waitress is. Though Steve isn't one of them. He just listens, his eyes calm and concerned as if he's taking it all seriously.

"I'm sorry for the loss of your sons," he tells Jethro. "And you're going to have quite a bit of adjusting to do, yes. Though if you're talking to Bucky, and SHIELD, then you're starting in a pretty good place for it. Have they been helping take care of you?" Steve asks Jethro.

Jethro Glass has posed:
     "Set aside some land." Jethro offers drinking his coffee scorching hot without even bothering to cool it. He just drinks away and grimaces a bit before drinking some more. He sets the still smouldering pipe down to one side of the booth allowing himself to drink. "Told me to keep out of trouble."

     "Go down there sometimes to try the range." He nods his head. "Good people in The Brotherhood Of The Shield."

Steve Rogers has posed:
Steve nods slowly, a faintly wry expression turning up his lips at one corner. Comparing giving Jethro the land to Nick Fury setting Steve up with the boxing gym and apartment. "If you're ever not sure about something there, Bucky is one you can put faith in. Peggy Carter too, if she's there," Steve offers.

He pulls out a little pad of paper with a mechanical pencil attached. "I started making a list. The things I ran into that I needed to look up. Or that people mentioned I should check out. The internet? Don't know if you've been shown that yet. Great for learning about things," he offers.

Steve takes another sip. "Even with my perspective I can only imagine how much different this is for you. Not sure if I can give too much more advice then, stick with it. Things will start to feel more familiar in time."

Jethro Glass has posed:
     Jethro reaches into his pack beside himself and pulls out a very simple leather bound journal and a charcoal pencil of sorts. He starts adding notes down to the list. The list itself is mostly chicken scratch but it's there. The pencil itself is clearly whittled into shape with the man's knife to allow him to keep writing. "Have a mind to find out what an enter net is." Into the book he adds: Go to Library read about enter net. He takes another deep swig of coffee before tucking his pencil back behind his ear. "Might speed things along a hair."

     With the pack open his Banjo becomes visible tucked into the folds of the pack containing his worldly possessions.

     He lets out a low chuckling sigh. "New buildins, new clothes, new vittles, horseless carriages, like I stepped onto an alien world" He sets that cup back down with a clatter. "My Old Woman'd kill me if she knew how late I am for dinner" He flicks a bit of a weary smile of yellow teeth Steve's way. "Left her behind 16 mouths to feed, aint mucha dad."

Steve Rogers has posed:
Steve Rogers nods in understanding. "That's a hard thing to get over. Knowing you left people behind. Though at least they didn't quite see it in the same way. It sounds like in their eyes, you sacrificed yourself for them," Steve says. Something else he can relate to.

He turns and glances around the diner. "You'll get used to a lot of it eventually," Steve says. "I'd say there's nothing magic about it. Well, there is such a thing as magic out there as it turns out. But, that's not how the vehicles work, or the ones that fly in the air. It's all just... science and chemistry, with 160 years to keep learning new things and advancing."

Another sip is taken from Steve's cup. "If I'm able to help there, I'll do what I can. But it sounds like you've gotten in with some good folks already."