Charging Bear is awoken by the noises that the tin can angel, aka Alouette, makes. His head is pounding like a little kid who just got a new drum on Christmas morning. A moan is all that escapes his lips as he trudges to the empty basin. A ingrained habit causes him to poor water into the basin and the rest over his head. Grabbing the near by towel he tries his hair and face. "That didn't help..." he mutters and goes about the simple task of dressing. The native son walks down to the bar to see about a cup of coffee and perhaps a bit of food.

As was his custom, O'Rourke awoke at dawn, still fatigued from the excitement of the previous day. Kneeling at his bedside, he softly recited his morning prayers, giving thanks for the safety of his companions and himself and requesting wisdom regarding the troubles in the town. His petitions were interrupted briefly when he was startled by the strange noises he heard, but he quickly settled back down when he realized that the source of the sound was Alouette.

His prayers done, O'Rourke washed his face and dressed, then made his way downstairs in hopes of finding a cup of coffee.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:47, Mon 04 Jan 2010.

Robert wakes and stretches, groaning as his aged spine creakes like a mining shaft about to collapse.  "I wonder how this mystery is giong to interfere with m' job?" he mutters to himself as he heads down for breakfast.

[Private to GM: Is there a telegraph office in town?  Does Robert already have an idea when the stage with the Judge is arriving?  if not, he'll check]

The Grand Bull is less full this morning...only a few people sit around the tables, nursing plates of bacon & eggs or biscuits & grits. The sky is clear and blue this morning...the storm clouds that drenched the town have moved on, and only a few wispy clouds in the sky remain. Aside from the streets being a muddy morass, it's almost as if the storm was never there at all.

[Private to Alouette: Nothing very special. A couple of blank sheets of paper, the odd loose liqour label, and a newspaper boldly calling itself "The Tombstone Epitaph," dated for January.]

[Private to Robert Micklethwait: There's a telegraph at the Western Union office on main street. As far as Robert knows, the judge should have arrived in town just ahead of him, though he apparently spent the night elsewhere. Checking with the stage company might be a good idea anyway.]

A little while after most have come down for breakfast, there's an odd *ktonk*ktonk*ktonk* noise and a horrible smell comes down the stairs, shortly followed by Alouette.

It's switched its grip to the corpse's leg at some point. Slightly more worryingly, it appears to have picked up a doorknob on its travels. The automaton tugs its burden off the bottom step with one last *ktunk* of skull on wood, and makes for people it recognises with a cheerful "Good morning!"

August is happily making his way through a bowl of grits when the mechanical being enters the common room.  He looks up, back down at his plate, then up again, alarm writ plain on his face.  "You can't have that in here," he whispers urgently.  "You're gonna get yourself locked up, or else thrown out for sure."

He looks at his plate ruefully, no longer hungry, before setting down his fork and standing up.  "C'mon, let's take it back over to the undertaker, y'hear?"

Alouette stops and tilts its head at him. "No angel previous thrown out of public house...also, undertaker inept with demons." It takes a glance at the corpse. "A thing once possessed, it is like...similar to..a gate in the wind; it is not closed to demons, and it...does strike against the gatepost in the resonances of the aether...They hear."

It stands still a moment - far less static and more sense today, it seems, and a basic grasp of similie - then seems to come to a resoloution. "Be not troubled, friend August Colby: self has soloution for innappropriate location of corpse."

It turns, and, if not stopped, hailed, or lynched on the way, will head off to the kitchen to ask for a glass of water.

Charging Bear stops at the top the stairs and and watching the tin-can angel bring a body in to the common room. "Wonders never end..." The young native walks down the stairs slowly, watching Alouette. He looks to the others in the room and says "Didn't know dead man was on the menu."

John looks up from his meal and watches the exchange with a concerned look on his face. Trying to keep the smell from getting to him he takes a drink of his coffee inhaling the aroma before setting the cup down and watching the automaton drag the previously possessed soldier into the kitchen. "Well I'll be, I'd say I've seen just about everything now but can't shake the feeling that there'll be more interestin' things to spy if I hang around this place for long." he says to no one in particular. "'Specially if I hang about with her." he added.

Robert was just finishing his breakfast when Alouette and his friend enters.  He shakes his head, muttering, "That's just not right."  Finishing off his coffee, he asks the saloon gal, "Is this the only hotel in town?"

Roland, not looking amused, stands in front of the doorway to the kitchen, barring the way. He gives Alouette a glare.

"Friend Alouette, I am afraid I must ask you to remove that poor man from my establishment. You are upsetting my customers and causing an unseemly commotion. For decency's sake, return the man to the undertaker's care, so he may be put to rest."

"Cannot return, Roland...cannot determine gentleman's name, cannot excorsise, cannot release to...man already in fear of demons." *tssh* "Unsained corpse calls demons from miles about to this place, town Texas, fear is like...similar to...bread for little birds. Where there are little birds, hawks come: this also is similar with/to demons. But fear not!" The 'angel' gestures with the orphaned doorknob.

"Workable soloution can be practiced: will avaunt self and corpse immediately when have ob-obtained one glass water." The automaton stands and looks expectant, insofar as a brass scarecrow-angelly-thing can.

He raises an eyebrow. "And what about the fear of the people when they see such a sight as a dead man being dragged around the town by a machine, eh? What are they to think? Perhaps they will come to believe you were responsible for his death, and seek to break you apart before you do turn on them."

He thinks for a moment, then says, "We have a reverend father in this very room, no? Might there be some blessing he can perform over the dead to ensure the...gate, as you put it, closes?"

Alouette touches its own chest, doorknob making a faint 'tok' on the casing.
"Self is not only machine...this self, your self..." it looks down at its security corpse "...his self: past tense." straightening again: "This self is angel. Will tell them, primary command: protect. Alouette does not harm...will not turn on them. is angel."

Of exorcisim: "Casting-out requires name of self that owned the clay if no life is present. Asked Ambrose: Ambrose did not know how to recover name of no-name gentleman." It pauses awhile. "However...shepherd can bless water, self can complete the...closing, bury fellow, also explain."

Roland raises an eyebrow, shrugs, then vanishes into the kitchen. He returns with a glass filled with water, and holds it out to Alouette.

"It is good that you trust in your own motives. Others may not, though, despite what you tell them. Be cautious. I trust I will have this glass returned undamaged, yes?"

All seriousness: "Yes."

It exchanges the doorknob for the water without explanation - seems to have the small-child assumption that people who know more than it about the world must be near-omniscient - and drags its way over to the priest, setting the water carefully down by him.
"Bless please," it chirps. "Will return soon, minus corpse."

With that it leaves the saloon, looking purposeful. After the last *sputh* of corpse being dragged onto the street, peace decends.


[[OOC: ok, now the grown-ups can talk.]]

August trails after Alouette, looking slightly worried but determined.  After all, he figures, his breakfast has already come to an end, and he shares the bartender's worry about the townsfolk getting the idea to lynch the automaton - best if there's someone present that can talk without muddying the waters further.

The automaton is making for the nearest clear set of crossroads, hailing any early-bird passers-by with one of its near-Biblical "Fear not!"s, and explanations along the lines of 'Union soldier died of sickness, corpse became possessed by demons, am angel, will get rid of demons, don't approach any sick Yankees; tell your nearest angel, priest or lawman' if necessary/they stand still long enough.

It only notices August following when it's dragged the corpse three-quarters of the way around the crossing of Main and Cross street to ensure it really is a proper crossroads. "Howdy, friend August Colby!"

It proceeds to drag out one and a half diagonal crossings of the crossroads, then having determined the middle, carefully sidles until it can kneel on the corpse's legs as it lets go. With a mechanical swiftness and fixedness of purpose, the "angel" starts to dig.

Charging Bear watches the tin can angel exit, he looks to the barkeep, "Ronald, what's on the menu for this morning?"

Roland blinks at Charging Bear, apparently still a little flummoxed by the mornings events. He shakes his head, places the doorknob on the counter, and takes a breath before answering.

"We have some rashers of bacon on the grill, with choice of eggs and hash or biscuits and grits."

Remembering Robert's question, he replies, "Well, there is the Oriental down the way, though that usually only rents rooms by the hour, if you take my meaning. And then there is Frederik's Roadhouse, a mile or two up the road north to Houston. There were a few others at one time, but they closed down for want of travelers to sustain them."

Robert nods, with a mildly perplexed look on his face.  "My trade.., well, I was expecting the circuit judge to come in today, I need to know his schedule.  I s'pose I can just check with the sherrif.  Or did you know if he stayed here last night?"

Roland shrugs. "If he did stay here last night, he didn't announce himself as the judge. The only famous people staying here last night were the actress Miss Marina Vanderholt and her bodyguard." he begins counting off people on his fingers. "Also staying here were you and the others involved in that business last night, Mr. Sunderland, who was in no condition to travel, and Eric Waters, who has rented a room from me for the last two months...no others, I'm afraid."

August watches Alouette dig, his expression - well, not hard to read, but slightly less of an open book than usual.  "Digging an honest grave, huh?"  This surely isn't where he expected his path to lead, even just the day before.

Without a shovel, he's no real way to help, but he politely tips his hat to those few passers-by who are out and about so bright and early.

As the morning passes and the hole Alouette digs gets deeper, more and more of the morning crowd start stopping and watching, rather than passing on. August notices many mutters and dark looks as the construct cheerfully digs away...some of them directed at him.

Eventually, a carriage pulls up. A rather portly gentleman in an expensive-looking suit steps out of it, frowning as his fine boots squelch in the mud. He regards the scene disapprovingly, and makes an inquiry of one of the crowd, who points in August's direction. The gentleman nods, and carefully waddles his way towards the pair.

Looming over August like a grumpy walrus, the man clears his throat.

"Well. What an unexpected surprise." he says, his tone hinting that the surprise is also an unwelcome one. "So this is the marvelous machine that has the citizens of my town in such a bother! Tell me, young man...what is it doing?"

It's clear, however, that the large man doesn't care so much about what it's doing as finding a way of getting it to stop, and has decided that August is the one to talk to about effecting that very thing...
This message was last edited by the player at 08:33, Wed 13 Jan 2010.

Charging Bear smiles, listening to the talk. "When you get a chance Ronald, I'll have fried egg with bacon and hash... and coffee."