Owner	Pose
Bando George	Bando's classes are out for the afternoon, and as such he has made his way back home by way of the Queen's Giant's park. His brain is melting, and he needs a little time to reset. So the youthful teen is at the edge of the pond, staring in at the koi that swim about it with a rather blank look on his face. It's clear that he's off in his own little world. Probably not the best strategy in NYC, even if hs is in a rather public park.
Jethro Glass	A lone figure makes his way through the park a ways dressed in simple cotton garb. He finds himself a spot near the bench underneath a tall oak tree and sets out a small hat onto the ground tipped inside up towards the sky for coinage.      He pulls a large banjo off of his back and begins to quietly tune it into proper order, flicking away as he does so echoing out the notes as he works back into shape.      He's perfectly shaven with an intense look in his eyes of a soldier tapping his foot out on the ground in order to keep time as he does a bit of loose strumming.      Right at the moment he has no audience whatsoever as he just throws himself into his playing strumming along with a great deal of speed as his fingers dance along the banjo sliding up and down the neck from one note to the next with the grace of a surgeon and the speed of a bullet train.
Bando George	The banjo snaps Bando out of his trance. What's that? He flops back and forth in a spin to look one way, and then the other, looking for the source of the banjo music. After a moment he spots Jethro, and a lopsided grin comes across his face. "Oh, wow," he says, quickly abandoning the koi pond. He's a sucker for a street performance of just about any type, and so it isn't long before he arrives, standing directly in front of the small soldier with the banjo.     "Wow, that's pretty impressive," he says over the music. His eyes move immediately to watch Jethro's fingers dance across the strings, and hs shoves his hands in the pockets of his khaki shorts.
Jethro Glass	That foot of Jethros slaps down onto the ground like a drum kit bounding off the ground in perfect time like a metrognome keeping him steady in his paces. He uses the entirety of his right hand to hit those strings slapping each one back and fourth with his nails sending them vibrating along as he plays.      So far it's just the two of them that really seem to be paying the music any attention as Jethro plays. He stands out a bit in his archaic clothing fresh out of a re-enactment battleground. Grey cotton button down shirt and matching pants with a large backpack filled with all his worldly possessions. The guy looks like he could practically live out of that backpack.      The tune is upbeat and speedy in its nature. He's not playing a particular song, more just jamming out with whatever takes his fancy at a given moment and yet it's still not an unpleasant tune that rattles out across the watters.      "Thank you kindly." Spoken with a thick accent from the player, his attention down on the instrument as he sends fourth note after note at about 250bpm as if it were nothing.
Bando George	Bando's eyes go wide a little as the finger picking speeds up. "Whoa! How do you do that!?" he exclaims, head tilting in a little. "Are you like, a secret banjo celebrity or something?" he asks. "Like secret agent Banjo man?" He shrugs off his backpack, setting it next to himself to listen, apparently content to stick around ofr the performance. "I don't think I could ever do something like that, it's like your fingers I can't even follow how fast they're moving."
Jethro Glass	"Years of practice son." His voice holds a low slow southern drawl to it like a long gravel road filled with broken glass. It's a harsh voice but it's friendly in tone if nothing else. He gives a bright smile as he picks away happy as a clam in his work slapping those strings with speed and care as he drifts from one song to the next seamlessly.      "None's born with skill, it's about hard practice to make you wise and keep you learning a little more each day." He pauses in his playing to sling that banjo back round his back. "I'm sure there's plenty you can do that if I saw it I'd never think myself able to catch up with." He pauses a long moment. "But, you take time, you learn what you can and you're surprised what you can do at the end of things."
Bando George	Bando nods, "Oh I could see that," he admits. "How many years did it take you to learn to do that?" he asks. "I can't even imagine working that long on something. Maybe Bible study I guess, but like, something you can do with your hands like that?" He whistles. "Just, mindblowing. Is this what you do for a living? Street performing?"
Jethro Glass	"It took a long time I can tell you that much." Jethro lets out a low chuckle looking down towards his hat on the ground as he pauses for a brief moment collecting it back up off the ground as he sees that there's not quite the crowd he was expecting. "I's done more the soldiering work o'er the years but the passions always been music." He nods his head firmly looking across the park as he spies out for any signs of small crowds he might be able to entice out of some spare coin.      "Live a simple life, focus on whatcha love doing, and you'll turn out right by the end." He hikes the pack up higher on his shoulder before adjusting his bedroll back into place ensuring that it doesn't fall to either side.
Bando George	"Soldiering?" Bando asks. "Oh, my dad was in Desert Storm," he declares. "Like a long time ago," he says. "But he was in the army." It's the closest Bando can come to having a direct relation to the military experience. "I love helping people," he says. "Kinda doin' that now, bein'g a super hero, it's pretty good. I like it. Not really good at it yet," he admits. "It hurts a lot more than I thought. You hear about heroes and see them on TV, they always act like it doesn't hurt when they get hit, but it does! Oh man, like one time I got scratched up by crazy bat things? And I fell down a flight of stairs once." He seems awfully forward with something that should probably not be shared with strangers.
Jethro Glass	Jethro calmly nods his head listening along. His eyes following with the story as it progresses. He doesn't say much as the younger man rattles along instead just choosing to remain silent as he gives his side to things.      He leans up against that old oak tree for support as he tosses his hat back up onto the top of his head of thinning hair and nods his head again. "Well I aint no super myself, just a soldier, marchin a different tune these days but a soldier all n the same." He pauses for a long moment thinking to himself as he looks up towards the taller individual. "Sometimes doing the right thing aint easy, and it aint pleasant."
Bando George	"I know, right?" Bando says, "So, sometimes I worry, like, if I'm not sure who the bad guy is. If it's the guy everyone thinks it is, or maybe there's some conspiracy? Right now I'm just taking on like street thugs and drug dealers, which, I don't care if you are tryin' to get by, that's not the way to do it, right? Maybe I can get them set up with some kind of assistance program. Do you think any would partner with a hero to help clean up the streets? I haven't heard of that at least. Might be a new thing!" Bando starts to bounce a little on the balls of his feet as he talks. "Sorry, I'm rambling I know. So do you do banjos for a living, cuz it's what you love? Or is this just like a hobby?"
Jethro Glass	Jethro speaks slowly and calmly as he leans against the tree motioning to the ground. "I find a spot." He motions to his hat. "Toss down my hat." He swings round his banjo. "And I play till people start putting in money." He offers a smile of slightly yellowed teeth towards Bando, just running his hands down the strings.      "T'ain't the best money but it's enough for getting by." Jethro nods his head firmly. "Sometimes I do hunting out on the preserve, an that makes me enough to last for a bit, but you do what you can, when you live off the land."
Bando George	"Oh! Yeah," Bando checks his front pocket. Wrong pocket, his wallet's in the OTHER pocket, his second attempt producing the wallet, opening it up. "I only got like five bucks, but you deserve more. If I was rich, I'd give you a bunch more. Maybe get you a gig playing in front of more people." He pulls out the five dollar bill, and extends it to him. "I gotta be goin' pretty soon, before my folks wonder why I'm not home yet, but it was really cool to meet you. I'm Bando, by the way," he says, offering the other hand to shake.
Jethro Glass	"Jethro" The man offers in return taking the bill and tucking it away in his pocket before offering a nice firm handshake and a smile. He gives one last nod of the head before parting away from the younger man heading off into the distance of the park looking for a crowded space to set up.