Steve just raises his eyebrows high at that. New York. How the hell did he manage to get all the way over here? Still, he struggles onto his feet, feeling sore and aching, a faint line of blood seeping out of a wound just over his brow. All in all, though, considering he's just been in a plane crash... he could be in a lot worse shape.
"I was across the Atlantic, the last I checked," he points out, vague enough, as he follows, if somewhat cautiously, after the other man.
"Stranger things have happened than ocean-hopping." Henry says Looking up at the sky for a moment. He stops on the wrap around porch pushing the back door open. "I'm Henry by the way." He says easily. "You can have a seat in the living room I'll grab the first aid kit. You might see some things you find odd but please we'll work this out." somehow he adds under his breath.
"Right," he nods, not sounding all that sure. "Steve."
Guess it takes a little more to make Steve feel skeptical at this point. Even the strangeness of the house as he steps inside, the various objects set up around the room that look foreign to him. While he waits for the man to come back, he ventures closer to the things that look a little more recognizable, and ends up leaning over the phone set up on a table, brow furrowed as he studies the object without touching it.
Henry comes back with a first aid kit he keeps around for the humans that pop in and out of his life and sets it on the coffee table. "The landline... " He says choosing the phrasing of his next statement carefully, and he starts pulling things from the kit. "I'm afraid you may have hoped more than just continents."
Steve isn't particularly boggled by the object. If anything there's something familiar to it, and he can tell it's a telephone. He looks up when Henry comes back into the living room, giving him a single nod. "I know." He doesn't need a lot of explaining, honestly. It would be the kind of thing Steve would have thought impossible once upon a time, if he hadn't just recently learned of how very much real Greek gods and Amazons and magically hidden islands in the middle of nowhere are. "What year is it?"
"2017." Henry says evenly ripping open a disinfectant wipe, "This may sting a little." He says eyeing the blood, but he learned to handle himself around it long ago. He cleans up the cut and puts a bandaid over it. "Do you think you broke anything?" He asks he has a few people he could call to help if it's needed.
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"I was across the Atlantic, the last I checked," he points out, vague enough, as he follows, if somewhat cautiously, after the other man.
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Guess it takes a little more to make Steve feel skeptical at this point. Even the strangeness of the house as he steps inside, the various objects set up around the room that look foreign to him. While he waits for the man to come back, he ventures closer to the things that look a little more recognizable, and ends up leaning over the phone set up on a table, brow furrowed as he studies the object without touching it.
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