File #001 audio;

[rightfootforward]

[She's been in Luceti for a day now. A day was more than enough time for the wings to stop hurting, the shock to wear off, and for her to find her old uniform and dress a little less like a girl on her way to primary school in the summer. A day was long enough to learn that this place wasn't entirely hostile and that it was extensive, reaching from the beach to the mountains and out until she hit an invisible wall that seemed to cut her off from whatever lay beyond it.

A day was also long enough to realize she was stuck and that the book was a method of communicating with others. People seemed to talk freely over it and she wasn't the only one arriving either. Captain Nathan Spencer, Peter Parker, Eugene, Sue Richards, Noel Vermillion - names that meant nothing to her, but it indicated that people came and went here according to someone else's agenda.

It hadn't taken her long to find the Guide, either, and after skimming through it, she felt a bit more...well, level was probably the best way to describe it. She's taken to hiding out in the woods for now, waiting to assess the situation before she moved into town. Now there was just one problem that remained: revealing herself to the enclosure and to possibly hostile elements. ]

As I'm not the only person to recently arrive to this place and I'm sure you are all quite tired of repeating the same welcome speeches, let me introduce myself and be brief about it.

Agent Carter, British Royal Military.

Any information not to be found in the guide already so helpfully provided would be appreciated.

Comments

[rightfootforward]

[That--

Wow, what? That is a name she hasn't heard in...forever. As in, that was something she'd only heard of in history books.]

...

Yes, quite close actually. [How does that even work?] As a fellow officer, might I inquire to your name, sir?

[greenjacketed]

Richard Sharpe, ma'am. [ fellow officer, eh? well -- that clears up some confusion over the 'agent' thing. ] Major Sharpe, if it pleases. South Essex, though most recently attached there from the 95th Rifles.

[rightfootforward]

Major Sharpe. [And a nod, even if she can't be seen doing it. And the 95th Rifles? That was over one hundred years ago! But- that would be rude to say and....wow, just...wow.]

A honour to make your acquaintance. The 95th is a feather in the military's cap.

[greenjacketed]

We aim to be. My company was broken up, like. Shunted off to the South Essex. But they've been good to us. [ even allowing the riflemen to continue wearing their green jackets. an honour, really. ]

But you, ma'am? You say you're an officer as well?

[ sorry if it's a hard thing to believe. ]

[rightfootforward]

[Oooooh no, do not question her, Major. Even if you're of a higher rank. 8|!!!!]

Agent is the title I prefer, Major Sharpe. A shame to hear about your company, but it is good to hear you're still fighting.

[greenjacketed]

Only...'s a title I'm not familiar with, a-agent.

[ a stammer as he tests it out. christ, that's odd. ]

[rightfootforward]

I thought as much. If you must know, I'm an Intelligence officer and our titles are better conveyed through "Agent."

1/2

[greenjacketed]

[ intelligence officer?! ]

Bloody hell!

2/2

[greenjacketed]

Erm. I mean. Christ. Uh--

Pardon me, ma'am.

[ he's completely lost. he doesn't know whether a major ought to be above an agent. except she's also a woman, which means he should be more polite regardless.

:| ]

[rightfootforward]

[SURPRISE. /flips his world upside down]

You aren't the first to be surprised, nor shall you be the last. Agent is just fine, Major Sharpe.

[greenjacketed]

I'm afraid I'm more used to seeing intelligence officers who're angry Scots. Angry Scots who don't proclaim their association so openly.

[rightfootforward]

The world has come quite a long way from "angry Scots" being the a qualification for this service. [She says it good-naturedly with a smile] Not that they still aren't angry.

[greenjacketed]

And just how far has the world come, aye?

[ because he's heard this song and dance before. ]

[rightfootforward]

Only if you wish to hear it, Major. Sometimes better not to ask.

[greenjacketed]

I'm afraid I've been in this [ pisshole of a ] town since March, ma'am. I'm startin' to wonder if there's anything left to surprse me.

[rightfootforward]

[March. And now it seems to be closer to the fall. How strange that time flows so differently here from home.]

1949 then.

[greenjacketed]

...1813. Quite a distance, then.

[rightfootforward]

[...Quite the distance. Someone from 1813. A man raised from the dead. What else can this place do? Who else might she find here...?]

I take it this happens often. The distance.

[greenjacketed]

Aye. And it goes both ways, ma'am. Other times, it's a whole 'nother...world?

[ he says it as though he's unsure. wary, even. ]

[rightfootforward]

Seems a bit daft, doesn't it? Worlds, times, people who aren't even human.

[greenjacketed]

Daft as pudding, ma'am. [ he spares a smile. ] And so I'm sorry you're to be stuck with us, too. You won't find any sensible chain of command.

[ and -- really? that suits sharpe just fine. ]

[rightfootforward]

Not unlike anything else, to be fair.

Nothing to apologise for, Major. It isn't as if you were the one pulling the lever to bring me here.

[greenjacketed]

You have my sympathy all the same.

[rightfootforward]

Much appreciated. [She almost laughs. Almost.]

Tell me, Major. Is there anywhere one might procure weapons here? Firearms, to be exact.

[greenjacketed]

There's a little shop for weapons. Shop's a bit of a misnomer -- more like a bullock train or a supply depot, for you shan't pay a penny for what they got. And they got all kinds. Blades to guns and more.

There's the smithy, as well. Though I ain't certain how fond they are of making firearms. Careful with what you pick up -- ammunition's scarce. It turns out that older models do better, for their cartridges are easier to make on your own.