In reply to Maddox (msg # 188):

Sitting Duck nods. "Sitting Duck will go to Office Of Mining, get permit when Custer removes cahk-suka Sioux from it. Then we go to mountain, get greezy-az whore. Then Mad-docs pays Sitting Duck. Is good." he nods again.

---

"How does your brain not burn?" The brave says, curiously, as he examines Belle. He speaks surprisingly good English. "The Holy One says, you have demons in, and your hair is red like hellfire. How do you not burn?"

Belle chuckled.  Where did these guys all come from?  They were freaking adorable.  But they could probably stand a few chemistry lectures.  And a bath.  Probably the bath was more important.  "My good man, those demons are naught but knowledge that is unfamiliar!  As steel is magic to those unfamiliar with it, engineering and chemistry are demons to those who lack the fundamental cultural moorings to internalize such concepts.  I think no less of anyone for holding such an opinion as yours however, the current and regrettable scarcity of such things must be acknowledged yes?  It is of no consequence in the long run, progress marches ever onward, and science will win in the end, for it is the truth, and the truth cannot be stopped.  Once we have solved the problem of transportation across the globe, all people will have access to the cultural richness of all others and soon amazing discoveries which dwarf all we currently have will be forthcoming.  Then there will be no more demons, save among the very stubborn!

"As for my hair color, it is a pigmentation pattern owing its existence to a phenotype I have manifested!  You see my good man, as the people of the world have scattered and been isolated for some time, different traits and appearances have emerged in a staggering variety.  Alas, it is regretful that rather than study these differences for possible insight into our shared condition or rejoice in the wide beauty homo sapiens can manifest, so many use this visual difference to justify small and petty thoughts, or worse!  All number of things are possible!

"If you wish to examine it, that is fine for far be it from me to deny honest inquiry, but do ask rather than pull, it is somewhat painful!"

The brave shakes his head. "I am called Walks The Night Alone, because I often wander the darkness far from the campfires. I have seen things, Firehair. Walk near Matȟó Thípila -- what your people call Devil's Tower. You will see the things you call demons for yourself. Walk through a battlefield. You will still hear the screams of the dying, and see the dead fighting on for eternity. Perhaps the ways of demons and spirits are simply science you do not understand?"

He shrugs.

"I have heard the words you speak before. They always come from those who think their way is the best way. The only way. They call it progress as if it moves ever forward. As if it were...in-ev-it-able? Is that the word for cannot be stopped? But they ignore the call of Wakan Tanka. They do not listen to their hearts. How can they move forward when they do not listen? They think they are the masters of all they see. And then they are eaten by the worms. Only our mother the earth is in-ev-it-able, Firehair."

"Yes!  You understand!"  Belle wasn't quite correct, she was hearing what she wanted to.  "I don't know if I would use the word demon necessarily, but to me a phenomenon I had no context for would seem supernatural!  Stellar insight!  Well done!"

She listened to the rest.

"Ah but that is the beauty my good sir, it is not my way, it is the way of all mankind!  The rudders of great vessels invented by the Chinese, the advanced maths of the ancient Egyptians commonly called trigonometry as well as their invention of wire, numerals from India, the written word of the ancient Romans, and the innovations of a contemporary American to send all this information across vast territories in binary fashion... these things from across the world and from across time have all come together to create the very circumstances which allowed us to meet this fine day!  Is it not astonishing?  And in its sheer complexity there are no masters, only each of us, playing our little part.  It is an amazing tapestry, and none of us is more than a thread in it.

"You are correct it is the earth which gives us all these things, and more!  Just imagine it, crops which grow everywhere to end starvation, cures for diseases now considered incurable, the ability to go anywhere and see anyone!  None of it possible without the very earth under our feet.  It is because we are on the earth, which is ever changing, that we are ever changing, from e'er we did descend!"

Belle was a very animated speaker when she got overly excited, making broad, sweeping gestures with her hands.

Art frowned, a bit put off by Belle's lack of response to his introduction and question to her. He listened to the back-and-forth between Belle and Walks the Night Alone, still frowning. The tall Irishman placed gentle hand on Kills Iron Horse, as he expected she'd have strong feelings here. Art then added his voice to the conversation. "He do understand, quite a bit. Maybe more than ya give him credit. But I do no think you unnerstand. He be using the term demon to describe an actual spirit. No some vague concept."

Art briefly looked to the sky before returning his gaze to Belle. "And some parts a progress're fine. But some folk don't stop ta think whether they should do something. Only wonderin' if they can. Advancin' science without considerin' consequence, well, tha's terribly dangerous."

OOC: and back to the Woolly Buffalo!
This message was last edited by the player at 19:20, Mon 13 Feb 2017.

"Not generally, no." Haverford says. He blinks. "Oh, dear. So those rumors are true, then." he shakes his head. "And if that unpleasant fellow is who I think it is..." He starts rubbing his temple. "This is above my pay grade." he shrugs at Von Steinhof. "I don't think you've ever met Abe...Andrew Lane." He says. "Imagine if your emperor was struck down in an untimely fashion, but then, by some dark miracle, he was returned to you and could still provide leadership and inspiration as long as his new dead condition could be monitored. Wouldn't that be worth keeping around? The Harrowed are still the people they used to be before their deaths...it's just that they are possessed by something extra. As long as that can be managed, the Harrowed are extremely durable and capable agents."

He looks briefly at Jane. "I could call the medic, let him see to her."

Leopold crosses himself at the thought of Emperor Franz Joseph getting struck down like this, but shakes his head.
"You are missing two very important points here: One: We are talking about the Emperor. Not just any... person." He seems to have caught himself before using another word.
"And two: There can only be one Emperor. If something were to happen to Franz Joseph, his heir, Rudolf, would ascend the throne. Imagine Franz Joseph returning and interfering with Rudolf's rule. It would be chaos! Civil war, maybe."

He shrugged and put his light-blue coat back on again. "Even Jesus Christ had enough sense to not stick around when he got back up from dying, didn't he?"


"That is a wonderful idea, Lieutenant. You do that, and then we go meet up with Logan and the rest, shall we?"

In reply to Freiherr von Steinhof (msg # 198):

"Believe me, I know exactly what that would be like. I don't have to imagine. And neither does President Grant, which is why Garfield's bloviating about the SSA is so very, very dangerous. But enough politics." Haverford shakes his head. "I'll get on that."

((OOC: So, where are you headed once a medic is called to see to Calamity Jane?))

Matt sighed, tipped up his brim, and rubbed at his brow. Sitting Duck was quickly moving up his list of problems. In fact, he'd flown right by "weird giant with a passel of Indians" and eked past "everything else wrong" in the Pressing Concerns cue.

"Listen Sitting Duck. Listen to me. You go up to Bear Butte, one of two things happens. Either you run in there half-cocked and get immediately shot to shit by a bunch of angry Sioux who, as far as I've heard, don't want you taking this girl away. That's the outcome I'm hoping for," Matt spat, clearly exasperated, "Because the other way is that you go up there and someone gets a good enough look at you to tell you work for Custer before shooting you to shit. My country has enough trouble with this AWOL [Language unknown: Ilwafi Astpe] wearing Union Colors on his revenge quest without you stirring up more trouble by making the Sioux think the Union is sending men to extract their prisoners or guests or whatever she is."

Matt fished out his wallet and pulled out a few bills.

"You want money? I got money. I can have three times this in a two days. Take the money, leave the girl, and fuck off. Just fuck. the. hell. off."

He held out $150 dollars in Union scrip, preparing himself to follow up with this bullshit about Custer's plans for the Office of Indian Affairs.

Maddox gives the Marshal an 'I was dealing with this' kind of frown, but doesn't stop him.

"My apologies sir, the hair pulling distracted me.  I shall have to inquire where your marvelous pronunciations developed.

"I am sure that there are things in this world currently beyond understanding.  There are more things in heaven and earth than dreamt of in our philosophy, yes?  If someone wants to call them demons that suits me just fine, but the future peoples of the earth will mock and deride our primitive perceptions if they fail to consider our limitations in context.

"But to your point... just because something can be misused doesn't mean it shouldn't be developed.  Tell me, are most people murdering sociopaths who would use something as innocent as distillation to make concentrated poisons, or would most people use it for constructive ends?  Surely some perform the former, yet the world around us is adequate evidence it is the latter.  Considering the immense good this simple discovery has done, is it truly worth abandoning it all in favor of preventing a handful of poisoners from acting?  Furthermore, if men of good character forsake this knowledge, it will be left solely as the domain of the wicked.  No, we have no choice but to move on.

"Furthermore, we do not get to pick and choose the truths of science, and indulge only in that information which pleases us, for the universe itself is indifferent to our proclivities, wants and desires.  Each discovery begats more, yes?"

In reply to Matthew Broaddale (msg # 200):

The disagreeable brave snatches the money Matt waves around. He gives the Marshal a gap-toothed grin. "Two days. More money. Yes. Sitting Duck will find you." He says, then saunters off towards a nearby saloon -- thankfully, not the Mint.

Meanwhile, at the Woolly Buffalo, Coot heads back out into the greater bar, and tells Kingsnake where he's headed.

"You think you can trust 'em?" The big man says. He looks at Wild Bill and Zeke.

Coot shrugs. "Reckon I can, for the moment. 'Sides, it's gonna be your shift soon, watchin' over that fella you pulled out o' the hardware store. Wilder can come with me."

The bandaged man nods, and the big man begins handing folks back their guns...and this is right when James and Jimmy walk in.

Coot grins at the two. "Well, now! How the Hell are ya?"

Jackie, on the other hand, narrows her eyes at the bounty hunters. "You two again." She says.

To see Logan. I think I know where they wanted to go,  right? and then the band's finally together. :-)

Matt deflated and took off his hat. This was so out of control. Now he had to go get his paycheck advanced, and pay off this bloodthirsty bastard. But it was better than bloodshed.

The Marshal turned to Maddox, then looked up at the rain.

"Let's get you inside, yeah, Vic?"

Maddox sighs and gives some inaudible agreement, unwilling to discuss that particular tactic on the street. He's set to head back to the Mint's porch unless Matt has other ideas.

Art patiently listened to what the demon-touched scientist had to say before he responded. "The demons are no beyond our unnerstandin'. Only those tha' refuse ta try fail ta unnerstand. And the people o' the future will mock and deride only those tha' don' try ta unnerstan more'n what they put their hands on. Knowin' bout the physical world be only a small piece o' what ya need. A person tha' claims ta be interested in knowledge but then willfully ignores knowin' abou' certain tings, well, tha's the sort of person tha' will be mocked and derided. Course tha sorta person don't gotta wait 'til the future fer their hypocrisy ta be obvious an' ridiculed."

His head moved slightly to the side under his hood, then it shook side-to-side, ever-so-slightly. "In fact, the very first question someone tha' is thinkin' of inventin' somethin' should ask is 'what would happen if this fell inta the wrong hands'? Assumin' tha' your inspiration is no unique is admirably humble, bu' no askin' that question o' yerself, well, tha's irresponsible. An the only reason ya don' get ta pick an choose is because it ain't comin' from yer brain. It's comin' from somethin' malevolent. The universe mebbe indifferent to ya, but there're a lotta folk here on this planet that be affected by what ya do. Mebbe ya should think about folk here insteada wonderin' whether the universe be carin' or no."

Art was far more patient than his teacher, who would have long ago smacked Belle in the head with his huge stick and told her how stupid she is.

"Katy," he called, beckoning her over to the bar, where he had tworked glasses of whiskey waiting.

As she re-emerged from the back room, Katy looked over at Logan and smiled. She walked over by the Marshal, took off her sombrero and set it nearby. Her hair was braided and tied with a black ribbon, and the braid swayed a bit as she said down and turned her gaze toward her childhood friend. "Thanks, Marshal. Been a long damn time since we drank together. Though this time we don't gotta hide it from our parents, eh?" Katy held up one of the glasses in front of her, a smile tugging at her lips as she gazed over at Logan.

"A damn sight too long," he said, clinking his glass with her and pulling down a sip of that warm whiskey. "If this town keeps goin' to hell every five minutes the way it has been, I don't expect we'll get much time to properly catch up. But…I figured I oughta buy you a drink for starters…Ranger." He met her eyes for a moment, then put down the rest of his whiskey, setting his glass on the table.

"You don't know how many days I wished we never left Texas," he said, referring to his family's departure from the state. His father, an abolitionist preacher, was getting less and less popular by the day, and his congregation was getting smaller over time. In truth, there hadn't been much choice but to leave at a certain point. 

Katy grinned at the response from Logan, averting her eyes for a moment, but then looking at her childhood friend as if trying to see the young Logan again in the old. It wasn't that difficult, truly. He hadn't changed all that much. She took a pull at her drink at the same time Logan did, and listened to what he had to say. "Thankee kindly fer the drink, Logan. Ya can be damned sure I sure wish ya hadn't left, neither. Tweren't right that yer pappy was gettin' so much trouble. Fifty years ago, Texians fought fer freedom ta choose what they want. Shouldn't be folk that don't wanna hear what yer pa had ta say - that ain't freedom. 'Cept they prolly knew he was right, specially the rich an' powerful. An those were zactly who didn't want his ideas spreadin'. Tweren't right, an I'm glad ya got out safe."

She did furrow her brow for a few moments. "Ain't so glad ya never did come ta visit, but ain't so easy ta get down there I s'pose. So whatcha been upta since ya left? I see yer inta lawin' now?" She sipped at her whiskey again, enjoying the warmth and promise of relaxation.

It always bother Zek to have this many dead people in one place and at one time. Granted, he was fairly sure he could trust them all thanks to the Coot, but you never really knew for sure. After all, each and every one of them had an inner passenger who wanted Coot torn to bits...

"Fellas." Zek said, tipping his hat to both.

The gunman glances around, "Michael, didn't expect you to be here."

In reply to Art C. Wiley (msg # 208):

"You speak as if the physical world is something mere sir!  There are globes in the heavens, the contents of which are unknown!  Who knows what awaits us out there.  And there are worlds within the smallest things!  The mere spark of electricity poses questions with no answers as of yet!  And there may well be things which exist beyond physical boundaries, but these are perfectly rational.  For instance, Plato believed the numbers were abstract objects which reside outside of our terrestrial domain, and while it cannot be proven, it is at least plausible.  However considering that we don't even know all the mysteries a thing so ordinary as water contains, why speculate into such ventures where there is no empiricism?

"And I beg your pardon but your logic does not hold sir.  If the man who invented steel lamented oh woe is me, someone may use this to forge an implement of destruction so I should cast it aside, we'd have forsaken the steam engine, the plowshare, the surgeon's scalpel... such is a world of cruel barbarism indeed.

"Indeed if the criteria for whether something is worthy to know is if it can be misused, then a nihilist would feel quite justified purging this earth of all life, human or otherwise!  Does one slay a helpless infant prince, for he may become a cruel despot someday?  Potential is one thing, but it is far from the only thing!

"And again sir, if the virtuous forsake the power discovery brings, then only the wicked shall prosper!  It is the same with wealth, which is often considered to be evil, yet wealth prevents such dire sufferings!  Do you know why the Good Samaritan was heralded for his kindness?  It is because he had the money with which to effect his will!  How did Jon Snow found the sanitary movement and save countless millions death and misery?  It is because he had the knowledge of the scientific method to discover the way!  Why must we judge everything by its worst possible use, especially in a species where the worst possible use is the least employed?

"Furthermore sir, I know not what quarrel you have with me or the new science, but I assure you I was not born a mechanic nor was a periodic table embedded in my instincts.  All of the things I know I learned from practice, references written by others and instruction.  Anyone can reproduce them, in theory at least."

If nothing else, Belle could talk.  It was probably a good thing she wasn't a lecturer.