"One who practices witchcraft is a witch," the automaton clarifies. "False shamans, necromancers, those who cast spells, well-poisoners, cattle-hexers, those who consort with demons and burners of children...those are witches."

Alouette, not great at reading the nuances of human facial expression, looks about for ambulatory pliers, then back at Gus, scanning him the while for what's making it uneasy.

"Albatross does not belong to self, Gus Shaw - if you do not wish to hear, remove." It points at the door in case Gus has forgotten he can do this.
"Do not advise approaching Albatross," it goes on. "Self is bound to protect mortals only; will not protect you from him."

In reply to Alouette (msg #37):

"Don't know 'bout none of that shit. Dr. Ward is a scientist. Uses them New Science ideas combined with traditional methods to call forth critters from the Ether. He done explained it to me once."

"You're a liar! Ward's a warlock of the highest order!" Danny mumbles from his corner.

"Thought I told you to shut the fuck up." Gus shoots back to the cowering man. "Anyhow. Them that believe in witches is 'unenlightened.' Means he believes all that religious jiggery-pokery what got people with fine scientific minds burned at the stake by people who couldn't understand progress."

"Remove?" Gus grins, and raises his knife up. "Why, thank you kindly for the permission!" he takes a step in Danny's direction, more to see what the Clank will do that to actually get within tongue-carving distance. "I don't need no protecting from him. And I ain't scared o' you, neither."

In reply to Dr. Dexter Ward (msg #36):

Wiping as politely as possible at his lips, Augustus quickly waves away the very idea, "Nonsense.  I've been coughing for quite some time and still live, so I'm sure there's no rush."  Taking a moment to sip his tea and clear his throat, he returns to the matter far more interesting than his health, Science.

"Very astute analogy though sir.  I have discovered a variety of tones than have amazing effects on biological functions.  Most recently I have been working on finding tone series that could actually control biologic functions instead of simply interrupting them.  That would be something, eh?  Consider the possibilities!"

In reply to Augustus Spotswood (msg #39):

"True..." Ward murmurs before taking another drink. "Like mesmerism and hypnosis? Indeed, I've seen some demonstrations along those lines. The right words, the correct tone of voice, perhaps a harmless, kindly phrase...all these can induce a state where a subject is open to suggestion." He stands and moves towards a desk. "I believe I have some notes along those lines that may help you in your research. Give you a starting point, as it were...ah! here they are." He pulls forth some papers written in a very precise, measured hand. "I give you permission to review these, though I ask you take care they not come under scrutiny. There are some people, after all, who may not be comfortable with the implications of such work and might come to believe you are seeking to craft some sort of diabolical mind control device. You know how the unenlightened can behave." He hands the papers over then resumes sitting. "But tell me...this gun of yours, the one that induces seizures...is it safe? Have you studied the long-term effects of what such an induction might do to the body?"

"To study aether and deny the Source is like, similar to, worshipping light caused by a candle whilst drawing curtains on the sun," the clank responds with surprising philosophy. "Remove: avaunt. Self does not own Albatross," it repeats patiently.

Is response to Gus' movement is to carefully move back and crouch on the bed to keep the same distance between them, then as he gets a hair or so within whatever distance it percieves as threatening, to break out barking at terriffic volume until he steps away.

"WOUF WAF RRROUF WOOF WAF WAF RRRAF AP WOUF WAF WOOF RAF WOUF WOUF..."

In reply to Alouette (msg #41):

Gus backs away at the sudden burst of vicious backing. "What!?" he yelps in shock, but as Alouette makes no more threatening moves towards him, he shrugs and resumes leaning against the wall. "I ain't goin' anywhere. Doc said watch him, so I'm watchin' him." He doesn't respond to the philosophy, just settles into a silence.

In reply to Dr. Dexter Ward (msg #40):

Augustus' eyes widen as he is handed the notes.  Each page receives a quick scan, thin finger tracing around the page.  Bright mutters of approval, mind soaking up the new ideas.  Etiquette manages to haul him back up from the deep dark sea of inspiration.  "Thank you, sir...  This should be a big assistance indeed."  Pausing a moment, he glances back to his bag, "Yes, the unenlightened can prove to be troublesome..."  Clearing his throat again, he looks back to the Doctor, "As to the safety of my device, I can assure you its quite safe.  Though I had not thought to attempt any study of the long-term effects...  I don't see how it could.  Its designed to be non-lethal, you see."  The fact that it is designed to be safe seems to be all the assurance he needs.

And then, the noise of barking is heard from upstairs.  Augustus first looks to the stairs, then back to the Doctor, "Should we....?"

Alouette just watches him with its blank lens-stare and light deep down within, stiller than any natural creature.

In reply to Augustus Spotswood (msg #43):

"Well, I'm sure you've heard the old saw about the road to Hell being paved with good intentions. You must remember that for every advance in the New Science there usually comes unintended consequences, misapplication, and unforeseen side effects. Laudanum, for instance, was touted as a miracle cure for many years, but current evidence suggests it might be dangerously habit-forming, which is why I prefer to prescribe cocaine as an anesthetic. There was also a story from Back East not so long ago about a villain using a sonic cannon similar to yours for kidnapping and ransom, something I'm sure the inventor of the device never intended. From what I heard, many of the victims continued to complain of fits, even months later. One poor fellow had to be committed." He sighs, and takes another sip. he's been nursing that single drink for a long while. "Even my own efforts are not without risks. one of my projects has recently suffered a significant setback, due to something unforeseen that I have not yet had the time to correct. Care must be taken, Mr. Spotswood, to ensure that we do not stumble into potholes while reaching for the stars."

At the barking, Ward frowns and stand. "Yes. I believe we should check on our guests. Follow me." He begins to head up the stairs.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:36, Sun 08 Aug 2010.

In reply to Dr. Dexter Ward (msg #45):

At the mention of such a tragic event Back East, Augustus seems to feel that the notes before him are terribly interesting.  Very, very, very interesting.  He does look up at the mention of care needing to be taken and nods, almost like a scolded child.  He stands with the Doctor, the notes going into his bag, but does not retrieve his device.  Straightening his jacket, he just follows after mind considering many things.

In reply to Alouette (msg #44):

Gus pulls out a brick of chewing tobacco, cuts a plug, and pops it into his mouth, all without taking his eyes off the machine and the boy. He doesn't speak.

Ward arrives, opening the door to the room. "Is there a problem here?" he inquires.

"Nope." Gus grunts.

The machine does nothing until the door opens, then looks to see who's there.
"Fucking howdy, Dr.Ward!" it chirps.

"Gus Shaw said he would cut the fucking Albatross' tongue out if he didn't shut the fuck up and his Other - fucking snake from another fucking plane - went rattle." Clearly it doesn't know what it's saying, but like a parrot or small child has picked up on the most frequent and versatile new word in the past conversation.

Dr. Ward's mouth opens in shock and horror at the clank's newly-expanded vocabulary. He tries to form a sentence for several seconds, mouth moving, but no words coming out.

Gus, upon hearing Alouette's new language pattern, just beings cracking up, doubling over in laughter.

Finally, Ward regains some composure. "Friend Alouette...I would greatly appreciate it if you would kindly refrain from using such vulgar and horrific language in polite company."

Gus continues to laugh and laugh. Ward shoots him a withering glare. "And as for you, well, you should know better by now. I will be docking you a dollar from your pay for sullying such a beautiful machine with such horrible words."

Gus takes a deep breath. "...weren't my fault..." he say, struggling to keep from guffawing with every word. He points to Danny, who just seems to be watching the whole scene with a bemused expression. "...he's the one what got it talkin' like that..."

Alouette tilts its pretty head. "Not good words?"

It points at Gus, seeing that pointing's in season. "He called the Albatross...horrible words too," it adds in defense of the truth, reasoning all the new words are probably bad ones. "With horses in."

"You shouldn't keep people in sheds, Dr.Ward," it goes on, because clearly he doesn't know this or he wouldn't do it. "It makes them unhappy. Feeding demons with sad makes many come, and if someone dies without hope in anything or the Lord, of witchcraft or suicide, the demons can steal the clay because all is hollow inside: more harm is done." It looks up at Dr.Ward like a bizzarre shiny scarecrow child. "Don't go to Hell, Dr.Ward, it is a Bad Place. You would miss good people and burn in hurting-cold lonliness."

There's a slight pause. "Or get caught in ghost rock, with the chickens."

"He belongs there." The boy mutters from the back. "It would suit him, burning in Hell. After all, he is the very Devil!"
This message was last edited by the player at 23:30, Sun 08 Aug 2010.

"Not so, Albatross," the automaton says with conviction. "-the Devil is blond."

Augustus, staying behind Dr. Ward but attempting to be where he can see, is also a little shocked by the machine's vulgarity.  He is unable to prevent himself from tsking like a schoolteacher.  As for the rest of the machine's ramblings, he lifts a very curious brow.  A question comes to mind, which manages to even get spoken.  Quietly, almost to himself, he inquires, "Can machine's go mad?  I'm still uncertain that machines can truly reason...  But if they could, it would follow that they could UN-reason.  Good Lord...  what do you do with a mad machine?  I should consult with an alienist..."

"I have a name, ye know, not that anyone's bothered to ask. And I'm gettin' a bit sick o' being referred to as all manner of unflattering things. Danny mutters darkly. "The devil takes many forms...oh, and look who it is! The man with the ray gun that makes people's bodies shut down and shake. Are ye proud o' your torture machine? I should have known ye were workin' with this lot of sadists and madmen from the start."
This message was last edited by the player at 10:59, Mon 09 Aug 2010.

"Howdy AUG-US-TUS," Alouette greets the scientist, and hastens to reassure him:
"Self is angel: cannot corrupt, become deluded, become seduced by demons. Self hears only the governing resonance from the aether, the echoes of the Source...the Voice of God. What is alienist?"

It turns its attention to the Irishman wedged in the corner. "Do not know, Albatross - what is it?"

Then back to Augustus. "What is torture?"

"Danny." the boy mutters.

"Well, Danny." Ward says. "It would be conducive to your future comfort if you were not to hurl slanders that those who have taken it upon themselves to shelter and care for you, so if you wish your final hours on this Earth to be pleasant ones I strongly suggest you temper your tone."

"So ye plan to be killin' me, then."

"Good gracious, no!" Ward looks positively shocked by the idea. "And how dare you suggest such things. But you are in the final stages of consumption. Your body is breaking down. I have done all that I can, but at some point inevitability settles in, and you have reached that stage where all I as a doctor can do is ensure that when you pass, you may do so with dignity and comfort."

"Horseshit. I feel fi--*cough! COUGH! HACK!*" The boy doubles over as the fit overtakes him. When he recovers, he wipes flecks of blood from his lips. "You bastard." he wheezes. "You did this to me somehow, I know it! You did this to all o' us. And by God that I will kill you for what ye've done."

Ward just frowns, shakes his head, and sighs. "I'm afraid there's nothing more to be done. Gus, Come along. There's no need to antagonize him. If you wish to continue standing guard, do so outside the room. Alouette, will you return downstairs with us?"

Alouette looks to the ceiling at the oath as though for a second opinion.

"Not wise," it remarks, but makes no further judgement, turning its attention to Dr.Ward. "You have to feed him fish, Dr.Ward, then he will get better."
It looks over at the subject of discussion, keeping Gus in peripheral vision. "When did Danny Albatross last eat?"

Of going downstairs: "Self will go...but promise no living mortal will go into a room with Danny Albatross without self present," it insists.

"Hmm?  Ah... An alienist is someone who studies mental disorders," answers Augustus reflexively.  Crossing his arms over his chest, he gives Danny such a look, "As for torture.  It is the applied application of pain to achieve some end.  Generally used by wicked sorts.  /I/ engage in nothing of the kind, you cad.  Thanks to my device, your life was spared."  Sniffing a little, he adds a little quieter, "Though perhaps I should have let that barbaric swordswoman have him...  Ungrateful..."  At the Doctor's diagnosis though, August seems a little less smug.  Reminding him a little too much of his own suspicious cough.  A little worried, he draws out his handkerchief just in case.  When the others head down, he follows quite willingly.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:48, Tue 10 Aug 2010.

"I think maybe ye should turn it on yourself, just once, and then tell me ye don't engage in torture." growls Danny. "Ye can start by shoving it up your--*cough! cough!*"

"Can't remember." he mutters at Alouette's question.

In reply to Alouette (msg #57):

"I suppose that is acceptable." Ward says to Alouette. "Very well. I shall have Abraham prepare a suitable dish for our guest, and none of my men will visit him without you present."

"And as for you, Danial, I suggest you make no further trouble. My promise to do you no harm is extended only so long as you respect the hospitality granted to you. Violate that, or attempt to harm me, my servants, or my guests in any way and I will respond in kind."

Ward takes his leave of the room, returning downstairs, followed by Augustus.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:08, Tue 10 Aug 2010.

The automaton waits for Gus to start moving before it even gets off the bed.
"Sixteen feet four inches," it remarks of the view at the window, and shakes its head in a very Ward-like manner.

It won't go out until Gus has, herding the big man, and even then stops and literally grips the doorframe to call after Ward: "No living mortal. Promise."

It's clearly not going anywhere until it gets this, having learnt the stark difference beween oaths and the things men say earlier in the day. It says nothing to Gus, but there's something eerie and possibly hostile about the brief stare it turns on him, pale light flaring a little and static hissing a soft creshendo before dropping away.

[Private to GM: Inimidation: 9]