Midday, April 11th, 1879. Blackthorn, Texas. Good Friday.

The Makeshift Jail

((Jake Lawrence, Katy Devon, Alouette))

Some mood music

The standoff at the house by the graveyard ends with Alouette. Somehow, the crazy clank managed to convince both the boys to give up. Or at least, to come back to town for questioning. Evans didn't like it, but the two dead men were adamant about not being disarmed and since Evans couldn't technically arrest them for being dead but still walking he decided the diplomatic approach would be just to take them in for questioning. He had the sinking feeling that they would have a lot to say.

To Jake and Katy, the two boys didn't look dead. Sure, the young Irish fellow had a hacking cough that would be worrying on anyone, and the hot-blooded Texan that was his partner kept rubbing his chest, and both had a pallor that could be considered "unhealthy." Alouette assured them all that they would not be in danger as long as they got fed plenty of fish.

The group managed to make it all the way back to the jail when the runner came up. "Marshal Evans! Marshal Evans!"

"Oh sweet Christ. What is it now?" Evans sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Gunfight at the Grand Bull, sir! That ranger and a couple others!" The runner gasps as he catches his breath.

Evans looks up at the heavens beseechingly, then sighs and shakes his head. "Deputy McCoy!" he says, to the rough-looking fellow who is standing there at the entrance of the jail staring at Alouette and the Texan "guest" with a mixture of shock and horror.

The deputy is still staring, open-mouthed.

"Deputy!" Evans shouts, snapping his fingers to get the man's attention. "I can see you are slightly overwhelmed here. Yes, this is who you think it is. Yes, he is back from the dead. No, I do not have time to explain any more. Now, do the duty you pinned that badge on to do and go help Ranger Hawkins at the Grand Bull. NOW!"

"And get plus plus fish," chirps the automaton.

Evans buries his face in his hands. "Yes. Get fish while you're out. Lots of fish."

The deputy, obviously out-of-sorts, just sort of nods before running towards the saloon as fast as his legs can carry him.

Evans waves the group inside. "Well, now." he says, turning to Jake and Katy. "We are surely about to have a number of new occupants for our tiny cell down stairs. I have to get it ready. Please be so kind as to take our friends here to our interrogation room and try to get some questions answered. Any questions that come to mind. I'll have more specific questions later when I've had a chance for a few drinks to wash away this day. And before you ask which room is the interrogation room...just pick one."

He stalks off downstairs to the cell, and up to the makeshift cell. He pulls out the keys. "Deputy Charging Bear." He says to the forlorn figure within. "We have developed a situation, and I need every able-bodied man I can trust. I frankly don't beleive the bounty hunter's garbage about the charges against you, but we can investigate that later. Right now, I need to know--are you willing to help?"

---

Meanwhile, at the Grand Bull Saloon

((Wildcat Hawkins))

The brawl was brief. It was brutal. Wildcat would be feeling it for a few days. But thankfully, it was all over with without any significant casualties. The two assassins had been subdued once Roland Frost, the proprietor who was limping from having his foot stomped on, tossed Wildcat the scattergun he kept underneath the bar. Now outgunned, the two had surrendered. The two patrons who had been shot weren't badly injured...just a couple of grazes.

The patrons agreed to fetch the marshal and not to lynch the pair while Wildcat got herself some decent clothes on.

She had just come down when a dark-skinned fellow in dusty trail gear carrying a pouch with the words "Pony Express" steps into the Grand Bull.

"Excuse me," he says, looking around at the bar patrons. "I have a package here for a Wildcat Hawkins?"

A dozen fingers point Wildcat out. The Pony Express man looks at her expectantly.

Wildcat was as tough as a pair of old boots and neither injury, nor fatigue, nor torture, nor starvation nor trepidation could ever so much dent the steel of her resolve, which had been forged in the hottest fires of hell itself.  Maybe the damn snake was right and Wildcat was actually a male, it would explain why Katrina realized Wildcat hadn't a lick of sense.

Katrina Hawkins however was a normal, relate-able human being who nearly pissed herself in a most unladylike manner whenever the bore of Colt's Great Equalizer was pointed in her general direction.  Somewhere under all that gruff talk and cigar smoking was the little girl the overly pious Daphne Hawkins had raised to fear the Lord and bake buttermilk chess pies.

Unfortunately the two of them had to share the same body, the same too small, bullet-ridden, saddle-rashed, bruised-and-banged up body that didn't rightly belong to a pure and uncorrupted law-dog in a just and caring universe.

Whatever the dispositions and true sexes of the three parties involved were (with the body having the most definitive argument among the three), there was one thing all agreed on:  Whiskey.  Wildcat needed to celebrate, Katrina was still horrified at the loss of her modesty, and the carcass just hurt like the Dickens.  Roland Frost was a damn good man to provide scatterguns and whiskey, the lot of them decided, as Wildcat downed her second double shot of the house blend, her Single Action Army trained on the surrendering ne'er-do-wells.

The speech of the feller with the rich complexion at first passed over Wildcat's ears, still plugged with self righteousness, self admonition for stupidity, and good old fashioned pain, but the chorus of pointing fingers was like a thousand candles in the darkness for her particularly dim cognitive state.

The cursory look at his effects and person led to a big smile, perhaps with still a little blood on her teeth where the libation had not fully worked its antiseptic magic.

"Oh feller, ya ain't rightly got no idea how happy ah might be to see ya'll.  Ya found me, Wildcat Hawkins in the flesh right presently.  Pardon the shootin' iron, it ain't fer you."

The Makeshift Jail

Jake watched the pair of would-be prisoners, noting their rather sickly look. They look like Jess and John did early on. The thought came to him without warning and caused him to shiver. As they approached the jail, Jake turned his whole upper body suddenly as though he heard something in the distance. His rosary shifted in his hand, making a gentle clanking as the beads collided. "Blasted crows," was all he muttered.

"Alright, Marshal Evans, Ms. Katy and I will watch these two and see if they're willin' to do some talkin' while you deal with whatever is happenin' at the saloon." Jake gestures for the Irish man and Texan to follow Katy into the jail. He stood outside for a moment longer, looking for something that might not actually be there.

Charging Bear sat against the back wall of his impromptu cell. He'd heard little from the outside world and looked like that was alright by him. Evans came into the room in a bit of huff and the native son stood to meet the temporary lawman.

" I'm more than willing to lend you whatever help you need Evans, thought you'd've figured that out by now."

Alouette patters into the front room of the miners' association and looks about, not straying too far from the not-technically-prisoners though it seems to trust Danny not to bite Katy at least.

"Do you have a name?" it asks the other pale fellow, genuinely curious.

In reply to Wildcat Hawkins (msg #2):

The rider takes a look around the saloon, shrugs, and says "Reckon you're right 'bout that." He strolls on over to her, pulling a large parcel from his satchel. He also pulls a pencil and a notepad. "If'n you'll just sign here, please...thanks." He hands the parcel over once she's signed. "Here you are, ma'am. Thank you for choosing Wells Fargo's Pony Express for your mail delivery needs, and I do hope you'll keep us in mind for next time."

"Hold it right there feller, ah think next time is about to be in about ten seconds."

Wildcat does her best to mind the prisoners and open the parcel, which of course is impossible, so she gives up on training the gun for a moment to open the container.  It's like a kid on Christmas morning.

In reply to Jake Lawrence and Alouette:

There doesn't seem to be anything out there fro Jake to see, aside from the flash of feathers as something takes wing out of the corner of his eye.

The old mining offices are bare...most of the furniture was removed when the place was closed. The windows of the office are barred, lending the whole place a jailhouse air.

Alouette's question is answered with a glare from the Texan. "Don't see as how that's any o' your business," he grumbles.

In reply to Charging Bear (msg #4):

Evans nods. "Oh, I never doubted. It's just good to hear the words spoken aloud."

He opens the cell door. "Here's the situation. Robert's dead. Killed in a barfight with the Dust adders last night, though Eli Fuller--the man who was watching your cell--claims he saw Robert's ghost or something similar walking the streets last night. We have in custody two young boys, also dead, but still walking. These boys, however, haven't started spouting off apocalyptic nonsense, so we might actually manage to get some useful information out of them. One is an Irish fellow who seems to go by the name of Danny. I think he might have been among the batch of Northerners who have been appearing around town. He might, in fact, have all the answers we're looking for about just what has been going on. The other is the Dust Adder who was killed in the shootout yesterday. I'm sure you remember him."

He hands over Charging Bear's effects. "What I'd like for you to do is question them. Find out if they know how they came to be in their current state. Get Danny's story down on paper at the very least."

In reply to Wildcat Hawkins (msg #7):

Inside the package is a long grey duster, a silver star emblazoned with the words "Texas Rangers," and a tick, leather-bound book entitled "Fugitives from Justice in the Confederacy Currently Sought By The Deputized Men And Women Of The Texas Ranger Brigade 1879 Edition."

There's also a sheaf of papers stuck in the book, like a bookmark.

Wildcat smiles for the first time since she got here.  Grasping everything to her chest, she first checks the sheaf of papers, hoping to find some money to pay the courier with momentarily.

The second objective is to look up Charging Bear in Fugitives from Justice.

In reply to Wildcat Hawkins (msg #11):

There's a scattering of applause from the surrounding bar patrons--they'd just helped her apprehend two assassins, after all, and more than a few of them knew a promotion when they saw it.

The papers consist of a letter of commission formally granting Katrina Hawkins the rank of Private in the Texas Ranger Brigade, a letter of congratulations from Lt. Armstrong, and an envelope containing $43 in Confederate scrip.

As it happens, the papers were shoved right on the entry for "Charging Bear." That's probably not a coincidence. Perhaps more of her message got through than she thought.

The entry describes a Charging Bear wanted for a number of felonies, including the murder of one Private Molimo of the Choctaw Tribe, scout for the CSA army, and the assault and attempted rape of one Sergent Rose MacAnally of the Texas Rangers.

The description of the man wanted for these crimes, however, doesn't quite square with the person Wildcat has met. There are similarities: large Indian male, powerful build, 5' 10" and 250 lbs. But the description is for an Indian of "The Apache tribe" and includes "a number of defensive wounds on face and hands" and "missing a tooth in his lower jaw" as a result of his attack on Sgt. MacAnally. The bounty is listed as $600, alive or dead. There is a sketch that looks only vaguely like Charging Bear.

Although not one to serve as the entertainer, even Wildcat knows when to put on a show.  Without another thought she discards her bullet riddled brown duster, dumping its curious contents onto the bar for expediency.  The sight of the knuckle duster and sharpened table leg likely elicit some odd reactions.

Not that Wildcat knows of such things, but she wears the new gray duster like a royal cape, and fastens the silver badge on the lapel smartly.  Taking a moment to remove her hat and quickly straighten her hair, she reassembles herself and walks into the midst of the saloon crowd.

"Now hear this, all ya'll present bein' charged with right properly informin' those in absentee-ya, arb-scent-ya... folks who ain't here."

Wildcat holds up the paper.  "I have here in mah hands, as a matter of public record, that there are a redskin wanted by th' state of Texas, an' this does state an Injun called Chargin' Bear that done murdered hisself an army scout, and committed a vicious attack on Ranger MacAnally.

"However, th' official record specifies th' accused is an Apache, wit' a bunch of scars on his ugly mug an' meat hooks, missing a tooth in th' lower jaw.  Now, I know all them redskins do look kinda alike, but I reckon if you put the boot on the other foot, the white men probably don't look too distinct from each other neither.  If'n ya don't believe me, there's even an official po-lice skitch of th' feller right here an' it just ain't th' same Injun.  What we have here is a case of mistaken identity, and th' evidence makes it clear.  This document will be remanded to the custody of Marshal Evans and available for inspection to th' public on whatever terms he deems to show it.

"There ain't enough evidence here for any court in th' Confederacy to hear a case against the man if he were white, and the fact he happens to be red don't matter one wit.  If'n I showed up in front of Roy Bean hisself with a case like this, on his drunkest day he'd laugh his ass off at me.  If'n the law wanted me, an you done showed up wit' a brunette that ain't got no burn on her arm who also happened to be a white woman named Kat, you'd be plumb out of luck.  Deputy Bear will be released, same as enny of you would be if'n ya'll was in the same boat."

Wildcat looks down at her would be assassins.  "We'll use th' Blackthorn jail for some bona fide crim'nals."

Wildcat takes no questions, aware that the proclamation will not be popular, and signals the Pony Express rider should follow her, waving a little scrip at him.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:49, Fri 03 June 2011.

"Danny Albatross has a name, Man of Anger," Alouette points out. "-but he comes from a different place, possibly Massachusetts:" it says the word awkwardly, imitating Evans' voice.

"Low probability of Danny Albatross' kin being in Town, Texas, and not knowing he is differently alive...but Man of Anger's relatives, friends, children will not know you are differently alive yet - high possibility they would have recognition errors, think Man of Anger was undead, and kill you again."

Alouette goes poking in corners after interesting scuttly things, though it will quickly catch up if Jake or Katy pick a room. "-then you would be minus minus humanity and probably eat them. That would be bad."

It looks up. "Plus efficient to locate kin, also ward off demonic attention if posessing name value."

In reply to The Amazing Evans (msg #9):

Charging Bear took his things and looked them over. He took the time of someone who didnt quite trst those who had held his gear. Slowly he slide the gun belt on, noting how horrible it looked. He drew the big Colt from its holster he checked to see if it was loaded then tested the action on the pistol. Dropping the gun back into its home, he the put his knife into the sheath he had rigged into his boot. Then came his tomahawk, which he held like one might a lost child found. His eyes scanned every inch of the weapon as his hands checked for any loosened strapping or other tampering.

Once satisfied he looked back to Evans and nodded, "Seems this town has a lot happen rather quickly. I've a feeling these kids won't know much, but I will find out what I can. I'm guessing that you want them treated well, yes?"

After Evans says what his intentions are Charging Bear says, "Very well, lead the way."

In reply to Wildcat Hawkins (msg #13):

There's a little grumbling from some of the assembled crowd, but Roland gives the grumblers a glare that quickly quiets them.

The rider shrugs and follows Wildcat wherever she leads.

In reply to Alouette (msg #14):

The boy glares at the machine a bit, but finally sighs and says, "Jesse Hohlfeld."

He doesn't offer up any further information

In reply to Charging Bear (msg #15):

Evans nods "Yes. Very well, if you can manage it. That addled automaton seems to be quite attached to them, and they don't seem to pose any immediate threat."

He leads Charging Bear up the stairs to the room the others have secured for interrogation, but lets the native son make his own entrance. He stands off to the side, hand casually resting on the grip of his odd pistol.

In reply to Pony Express (msg #16):

Wildcat isn't sure they got this message the first time, and sends word back to Austin, using the most expedient field code possible.

OOC:  Smarts roll?

The message is, incidentally:



"And I need ya'll ta ride out presently, if ya need a stop, stop anywhere but here.  What do I owe ya partner?"
This message was last edited by the player at 15:37, Sun 05 June 2011.

Jake looked at a couple of rooms and picks one, it seemed almost at random. It was on the southern side of the building and as empty as all the others. "Alright, you two gents can have a seat." Once the pair 'get comfy', Jake turned and left the room.

Stepping into the hall and closing the door behind him, Jake nodded to Evans and Charging Bear as they arrived. "Marshal Evans, the two men are inside. I was going to let 'em sit for a bit before talking with 'em."

If Alouette responds to being glared at more than the average hatrack it's impossible to tell. "Fear not, Jesse Hohlfeld! All people present from many places may soon go to church."

There's a ticking pause at getting the door shut on it, having followed the not-prisoners as they were moved then trying to see where Jake was going, then it asks: "Do y'all live together now?"

OOC: So is Alouette in the room with the prisoners or out in the hall with Evans, Jake and CB?

[[In with the prisoners - Danny's promised not to bite people but it's not sure about Jesse and has picked up a distrust of cowboys, so it's staying closer to him than others. It just tried to see where Jake was going.
You'll hear all about it when it catches sight of CB, no fear.]]

In reply to Jake Lawrence (msg #20):

"Very good." Evans nods. "I'll let Deputy Charging Bear here handle the questioning. I'd like you to follow Deputy McCoy to the Grand Bull Saloon and see what the situation is there. I have the nagging feeling our local Texas Ranger has had some serious trouble and I'd like to give her all the backup I can spare."

In reply to Wildcat Hawkins (msg #19):

[[OOC: Yes. Since you have a copy of the latest Ranger's Bible, the code key is there, but since you aren't familiar with using it yet you'll need to roll. I'll give you a +1 bonus for having spent some time monkeying about with that other code.]]

"Rates for the secure service run a dollar fifty per half-ounce, ma'am." The rider says. It sure is expensive to post stuff this way.

In reply to Alouette (msg #21):

"Wonderful." Jesse grumbles. "I always hated church. Unless it was singing in the choir."

Danny snickers at Jesse revealing himself to be a choirboy. Jesse just glares at him.

Danny shrugs at the question. "Not really. Just going the same way for a while. Strength in numbers and all that."

"Still can't beleive you talked me in to goin' with you. Didn't I help put you into that shack?"

"Yeah, and then ye got shot. If ye want to carry on with our troubles, I can oblige you, but I'll tell ye what. I'm done with war. I just want to go home to Missouri, reb-held or not. It's safer for ye to come with me, as everyone here knows ye died and might be interested in puttin' ye back down for good."

"Yeah..."

"Now, I got a plan. Alouette, the clank here, has a likin' for me. He won't let me get hurt if he can stop it. He might be able to keep that marshal an' his deputies occupied while we make a run for it." Danny turns to Alouette. "You will help us get away, right?"

In reply to Pony Express (msg #25):

17:53, Today: Wildcat Hawkins rolled 5,6 using d6+1,d6+1, rerolling max with rolls of 4,5. smarts roll.

Wildcat lifts and lowers the missive.  "Well then how many half ounces is that?"

"Jesse Hohlfeld has holy songs in? That is a good thing,"  Alouette chirps, not noticing one of its charges may be preparing to fight the other.

"And all what?" It asks, head tilted, then continues to listen, interjecting a "Howdy," at its name and "-angel-" when referred to before responding:

"What do y'all wish to be away from? Danger, mortals, Town, Texas? Advise going to church before running to Missouri, becoming safe. Also eating plus plus fish - if y'all harm a mortal self is not required to protect y'all." Thinking of how Danny reacted to Evans, it adds: "Priest of Town, Texas, also speaks strangely under learned accent of South; he may be of the Mick tribe also."

"Also, every time previous Danny Albatross has ceased to listen to self, he has got killed. It is not good for you."

In reply to The Amazing Evans (msg #24):

Jake gave Charging Bear a once over, as though sizing up the larger native. Extending his hand, Charging Bear took it and gave Jake a firm hand shake. "Good luck with those two something tells me the Automoton might cause you some grief."

He looked back to Evans and nodded, "Alright, you're the boss Marshal. I'll see to this Ranger." with that, Jake left the prisoners to Marshal Evans and Charging Bear. He made is away out, enjoying the warmth of the April sun as he went to the Grand Bull to find Deputy McCoy and Texas Ranger.

Charging Bear looks from the door to Evans and says with a slight grin, "Seems people are just coming from everywhere to lend you a hand Evans. Did he say automaton? So Alouette is up to his... her ... its usual antics?"

In reply to Wildcat Hawkins (msg #27):

The rider picks up the message, holds it in his hand, and say, "Feels like a single half-ounce to me. Most single sheets are. That'll be a dollar fifty, please."

In reply to Alouette (msg #28):

"Away from all o' the above." Danny says, then considers. "Aye, goin' to the church might work..." he makes a face. "Don't call me that. The...the proper term for me 'tribe' is Irish. And we won't harm anyone we don't have to."

In reply to Pony Express (msg #31):

Wildcat pays the man and pockets the rest.

"All right I better get back to minding them prisoners before they get any ideers.  Ah might be waitin' a while, given th' lack of lawdogs an' the constant fires they hafta put out 'round here."

Wildcat meant that as encouragement the rider should leave, but she wanted him to do so naturally, lest he be intercepted by an agent of the Snake.  That dead man's switch had to go through, and she wouldn't know.

"Danny Albatross wishes to dig?"

Alouette agrees with small-girl enthusiasm to the idea of going to the church. "Yes. The church can give y'all sanctuary from angry mortals, make y'all invisible to demons wishing to encourage y'all to lose souls and harder to find by things that see like angels. Also, the church may provide fish and possibly cake."

It crosses its arms at the last. "Y'all have no need - alternate: primary requirement, to cause harm...minus killing and eating people, and that is a sin." There's a slight, ticking pause, then to Danny: "Why was Danny Albatross having a war?"

Katy was a little quiet on finding that one of the fellows they had to watch over was Danny, it was the same guy from the stage coach robbery.. But he died, didn't he.. The lad was carted off to the Doctor's property and after that.. What did he escape, or was he not really dead or.. Well, he was a slippery fellow. Jake guided them to the room on the south side and she merely watched from under her hat, strangely quiet for once.

She was listening still, Jake merely walked away and she stayed to watch him and the Angel behind bars. They thought of making a run for it and it was like the stories, but she wasn't enjoying this one. She turned and moved away to follow after where Jake went to and found Ambrose and Charging Bear there as well. Charging Bear asked a inquiry and she used that to pipe in.

" She's trying to make sure they don't run away and.. Eat.. People.." She said with a bit of confusion as if she couldn't wrap her mind around the latter part.

In reply to Wildcat Hawkins (msg #33):

The Pony Express rider nods, takes the payment and letter, sticks them both in his mochila, and heads out.

A few moments later, Deputy McCoy heads in, breathless. "Miss Hawkins?" He says. "We heard there was a sitiation?"

In reply to Bill (msg #36):

"Ya could say that Deputy, weren't for Mister Frost here it'd be a real sitcheeashun indeed.  But don't go an' reckon ah ain't very glad to see you right now anyhow."  Wildcat gestures her head toward the prone figures.

"These two are under arrest and are to be considered extremely dangerous.  We need ta get them in th' clink five minnits ago.  Normal protocol would be a double escort and a guard for th' escort, but I'll take whatever help I can git 'round here."

In reply to Everyone in the Jail:

Alouette:

Danny sighs. "I'm not havin' a war no more. I just said that. I just want to go home. Now, get ready to block the door an' keep all the others inside while we make a break for it."

He moves up to the window of the office and swings the butt of his pistol into it. The glass shatters. "Get moving!" He shouts to Jesse, who runs for the now opened window.

---

To everyone else:

Evans nods at Charging Bear. "As the lady says. Alouette has returned, and is currently minding our charges. It claims that our two charges will be harmless enough, provided they aren't forced to feed on human flesh and are given fresh fish. I will just be content to keep our undead off the streets for a few minutes until we can determine what created them."

He's interrupted by shattering glass.

"Of course." Evans sighs. "Naturally."

She blinked a little, her head canting to the sound of glass shattering.

" Oh, right. that's what I came here to tell you guys. They're running away to the church. Their afriad people that see them will gun them down again since everyone knows their dead. Then they're going to run away to.. Missouri, I think.. They're counting a bit on Aloutte to make sure no one shoots them.." She says matter of factly. " I wasn't going to say anything, but they picked a noisy way to do things and.. Well. I'll go after them. Just pretend you didn't hear the glass breaking." She volunteered quickly and headed to the door, pulling it open and started to step out. " I'll be back later to tell you all what happens, I think it's best that we leave them alone. They're really sad people, so i'll be okay. Take care, boys.."  And with that quick chatterbox nature piping up, she left and moved to get to the other side of the building to follow them.

Alouette looks at the door, then at the lads squeezing out through the bars and broken window (rapidly becoming a normal entrance/exit route in the clank's experience), assuming that this is the break and Jesse, presumably, is "it".

"Beware of pointy bits," it remarks, seeing how the glass tears at cloth, and just stands there ticking over what to do next. It logs a strong requirement for/lack of Charging Bear's presence which could be called missing him: Called Charging Bear would know what to do first.

Charging Bear puts his palm to his forehead as he heard the glass shatter. After another moment, he looks over at Evans, "Next time we put the prisoners in the vault. Works pretty well on keeping things and people inside."

He watches as Katy volunteers to go after the escapees and then wanders off. "Want me to follow her?"

In reply to Wildcat Hawkins (msg #37):

Jake stood behind Deputy McCoy as he talked to Ranger Hawkins. He looked over the Ranger, sizing her up as he did most people he met. "Guess its good the marshal sent me along then." He extended his right hand to the Ranger, "Jake Lawrence, recently conscripted deputy."

Wildcat grins like a loon at that remark.

"Carn'scripted ya say?  Well ya ain't the first man I met in this town that thinks the war's still on.  Course given the conditions at play here, I can't blame ya if ya did."  She attempts a kind of joviality, but it comes off as weariness.  Wildcat has not been sleeping well here lately.

Her cobalt eyes darted to the rosary.  "Well this here is a hell of a way to meet ya Deputy Lawrence, so ya'll have to pardon my lack of, well, most anythin'.  Now if'n I don't know no better, I'd think you was a circuit rider, but I'm a Methodist m'self an' ain't too many of us walkin' round wit' rosaries.  Either way I'm guessin' you don't come from lawmen?"

Wildcat's tone was odd, like she thought she was right but hoped she was wrong.

"Its a long'ish story Ranger, but I'm here to help until things get sorted around here." He looked down at the rosary in his hand, as though he'd forgotten it was even there. "I was raised Baptist, but became Catholic for my wife-God rest her soul. I keep the rosary to remind me of her and our son John-God rest his soul." Jake made the sign of the cross as he said his son's name.

"But I'm no circuit rider, I work for Dr Victor Frost out of New Orleans. As for being from law folk, no ma'am, my pa was a banker and my ma a seamstress, however I did serve in the Army when the fightin' was still happenin' and know how to give and take orders."

Wildcat removes her hat momentarily.  "My cond'lences fer yer loss Deputy."

This man's story was as strange as anything else she'd encountered here.  Well, maybe not but anywhere else but Blackthorn he'd be a rare curiosity.  That Frost name sure seemed to pop up a lot around here too.

The ranger did not linger on the gesture however, judging it to be something personal and not spoken of lightly with strangers.  In a way, she could understand.

"Well welcome to yer first day of deputy work one-oh-one.  Normally we'd do this in style, but we'll make this here work.  I'm gonna jabber at ya'll while I act.  Deputy Lawrence I 'poligize in advance for boring you, but Deputy McCoy here is not a transient and will benefit from some of this nonsense.  Now first thing I need from you fellers is yer shootin' irons out at low ready.  Deputy McCoy, if you'll be so kind as to cover the male suspect, and Deputy Lawrence, you'll cover the female.

"These are extremely dangerous suspects and as they haven't been frisked or searched yet, we must consider them armed.  We will consider them armed until a proper search has been conducted, but we ain't gonna do that in no saloon.  You can be damn skippy we're going to frisk 'em good though.

"Now in theory, a deputy is a deputy and a suspect is a suspect.  An' sometimes that's just how it is.  In poh-lite society however a lady is a lady, and if you got the option ya gets a female to frisk and search a female and it ain't fer politeness sake neither.  There are... extra places to check you boys wouldn't understand.  Course I frisked plenty of fellers and ain't none of them complained one time.  Guess the world's just not fair sometimes."

Wildcat planted her knee on the prescribed spot on Jenny's back and began to pad her down.

"Ya wanna wear gloves, don't find that knife she got hid on her th' hard way.  Notice the pattern, one end to the other, yer knee in their back helps if they decide they're too nervous and want you to stop in a hurry."

"Yes ma'am." Jake drew his Dragoon with a practiced ease and aimed it at the female suspects left shoulder.

She snuck toward the back and carefully poked her head out from round the corner to find out where they were at. She pulled back in realizing they were still climbing out and the little angel hadn't yet followed them. What were they thinking, honestly? She figure the best thing to do was to stay put, not like Evans was gunning to hang them. As far from possible as it would be, she was thinking maybe talking a little sense into them.. Then again, they might not believe her or care. Whom knew what happens to them later.. A sigh, she moved out from the alley  put her hands on her hips.

" You know.." She started softly. " This is not the best solution for you gentlemen. Your going to get hurt again."

Alouette, not being great with the etiquette of doors, decides to look at what the differently alive lads are doing. Amazingly, the clank manages to work its way at least partway through the bars, and crouches on the sill like an insane mechanical owl as Katy starts talking.

[[agility 5 - quite a feat for the clank, but still a sucess unless that was at -2, in which case CB might have to fetch a hacksaw...]]

"Howdy Miss Devon! Fear not! Danny Albatross and Jesse Hohlfeld are going to a better place," it reassures her.


[[Might as well give the lads extra incentive not to shoot Katy. No harming mortals, boys!]]

In reply to Wildcat Hawkins and Jake Lawrence:

Bill holds his gun on the man as asked, but his attention is on Wildcat. "Uh, ma'am? I don't want to rush you or nothin', but do we have time for this? We got a real sitiation back at the mining office." he swallows, then continues. "it's...it's Jesse, ma'am. My...the man you shot yesterday. He's...he's back."

[[OOC: Wildcat, please make a vigor roll for me. That whiskey on your empty stomach after a poor sleep is beginning to catch up with you. A failure will result in a level of Fatigue.]]

In reply to Alouette, Katy Devon, Charging Bear:

Evans shakes his head. "Technically, they aren't under arrest..." he sighs and shakes his head. "Go in and corral them. I don't want them harmed if it can be avoided, but we need some answers."

He throws the door open. "Hold there!" He shouts at the pair...of mechanical legs halfway out the window. he pinches the bridge of his nose. "Change of plans. Go around back and box them in the alley. And hope they don't do anything to Miss Devon in the meanwhile."

Out back, Katy comes across the pair straightening up. Jesse looks up and opens his mouth as if to answer, but when Alouette bursts through the windoww after them he jumps and lets out a strangled squawk.

Danny looks at the comedy surrounding him, open-mouthed, then closes it with a frown and rushes at Katy. "Sorry, girl. I'm afraid I'm going to have to take ye hostage again." He says as he grabs her and twists her arm behind her back...

[[OOC: 13:51, Today: Danny Boy rolled 4,2 using d6-1,d6-1, rerolling max with rolls of 5,3. Grapple! That beats Katy's Parry of 3...she's now entangled, though she can try to escape on her action.]]

In reply to Bill (msg #49):

21:46, Today: Wildcat Hawkins rolled 1,5 using d8,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 1,5. drinkin' whiskey.

Wildcat was good at two things: catching bullets and drinking too much.  Blackthorn was teaching her a third: to not immediately bolt at every unfavorable development.

It's not that Deputy McCoy's words had no effect on her, they turned her blood to ice.

"Deputy, if we don't follow the right steps, these two will get loose and it will come back on us and we'll have more problems.  A degree of care even under the worst circumstances is what this job is all about.  We're already doing sloppy police work, let's not make it worse.  These two damn near shot up everyone in here, they are a direct threat to the people of Blackthorn and deserve to be treated accordingly."

Nevertheless she finishes her frisk and stands.  "Deputy McCoy, I'll cover you while you do a pat down of the male suspect.  Deputy Lawrence, we lack adequate restraints so we're going to have to be creative here.  I'm cuffing this suspect now."

Wildcat does as she declares before standing.

"Get her to her feet, and be mighty careful sir she won't hesitate to head butt her way out of this.  Once the other suspect is cleared, we're going to tuck his left arm behind his shoulder and cuff his left arm to her right hand, so even if they untwist themselves they'll be oriented in opposite directions.  Deputy McCoy will restrain his free arm, I'll restrain hers, and you'll escort us and cover the whole procession.

"Once we get these two situated with some rope threaded through the cell door, Deputy McCoy, you will do an exhaustive search of them both.  Take everything that's metal or stiff, don't even leave them a hair pin.  Our improvised cell needs to be thoroughly inspected and cleared too, we had compliant prisoners before, these two won't be.  Don't try to transfer them by yourself, wait until you have lots of help.  Keep them covered.

"In the meantime Deputy Lawrence and I will report and find out about this mess."

OOC: About the time Wildcat is through speaking, Deputy McCoy has probably finished his search.

Oh hell.  Wildcat thought.  If these assassins had just been after her, she might expedite this process even more, but she feared what they would do to bystanders.  It was infuriating, despite her priorities, this new problem had to have some of her attention presently.  But the pragmatic Ranger knew that it was already too late to prevent any problems, she'd have to trust the Marshal's mettle to hold out until she could intervene.

Aw, how cute. Allouette startled the cowboy. She nearly giggled at such a cute scene when danny rushed over and twisted her arm behind her back.

" OoW! You jerk!" She started. " Let go or I'll scream. You don't think they heard the glass break?.." She was a little fussy and hearing Evan's shouting out from the room made her smirk. " Let me go and get running, your losing time, aren't you?"

Alouette attempts to turn and look round at Evans whilst perched on the sill, and falls off. Hopefully Jesse's got out of the way by now.

[[agility 2: windows -> crash.]]

"Tilt error," it mutters, then sees Danny's grab for Katy. "That action has fail, Danny Albatross!" it exclaims with more sincerity than grammar, then tries talking to Jesse, since it's picked up that mortals often pay a bit more attention to other mortals, like Jake does to Ambrose: "Y'all should go to church, plus fast, minus noise. Remind Danny Albatross that self will not protect unkin that harm mortals?"

Charging Bear ran around the back, hoping to get behind the would be runaways. He pauses at the corner of the building, after taking a few deep breaths he moves quietly towards where he hears the commotion. Hopefully this doesn't get me shot.

OOC:
08:53, Today: Charging Bear rolled 11,4 using 1d4,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of (4+4+3)11,4. Stealth.

In reply to Wildcat Hawkins (msg #51):

She seems to have a handle on this, just going to keep quiet and do as the Ranger says, Jake thought as he looked over the pair of prisoners, keeping his gun trained on the female the whole time.

Danny looks from The not-very-frightened girl in his arms to the crazy machine, sighs, and turns Katy loose. Without a word he turns and begins running the direction of the church.

Jesse, after a moment's hesitation, turns and follows him.

Charging Bear, sneaking like a phantom, can see the two making a run for it. No one seems to have noticed him, living, undead, or mechanical.

Bill nods and conducts his search, patting down McCavity as she talks. He removes the man's gunbelt, and also secures a knife. The whole process takes a few minutes at most. The two subjects don't put up a lot of struggle. The girl looks like she might, but the man gives her a few warning glances to calm her down.

Eventually, it's time to move out.

If no one has any opposition, Wildcat proceeds to march them to the improvised jail as previously planned.

"All right that's real nice now you two, ya'll just keep up yer git along and we'll get along."

Charging Bear watches as the two "fugitives" start running towards the church, he notes where they're going and starts off in that direction himself but does his best to keep off the same path as the pair.

OOC: Don't know if this is going to became a chase or just some hand waving

In reply to Wildcat Hawkins (msg #58):

Jake's gun doesn't move from the female. And back to the jail we go

OOC: Um... yeah...

Alouette picks itself up and shakes itself, then looks at Katy to make sure she's got all her limbs, then down the steet to check its differently alive friends haven't detoured to bite anyone. After a little ticking, it asks:
"Should we run, too?"

[[also, should we roll Notice to see if we glimpse Wildcat & co. passing the other end of the road?]]

Katy rubs her wrists, pouting  a bit as he takes off and the other guys follows. Gee, you try and help some people. " Hmmph.." Though she gives a lite jump as Charging bear runs out from almost nowhere and she seems a touch stupified at the little chase. The Angel stood, looking after them along side her before asking a question. She looked to the robot, to the running fellows and then nods.

" They're more likely to get in trouble without you around, Angel.. " And katy sighs, running after the man whom is running after the dead boys to the church. " This sucks, we should have just left them at the church in the first place.."

OOC: This is an in character out of character post to try to move things along for The Stray.  Items of concern as Wildcat might say them:

- Now listen to me real good now boys you gots two choices.  Either'n I shove a lit stick of dynamite in yer cornbread hole an' lash yer jaw shut wit' a piece of rawhide, which ah don't want to do, ain't done that since that mess in Burnet County and it made a hell of a damn mess, or we gets neighborly, ya get to live and hell, ya'll will probably get to live better 'n ah do once this is all over wit'.  You both know good and damn well ya can't go back to whatever ya'll were before.  Ya ain't no Yankee no more an you ain't no damn dust snake.  We're even by the way, that whole business was your damn idea!

- All right when did ya'll realize ya'll weren't dead no more?

- Ya know of anyone else that were dead that ain't no more?

- Tell me everythin' ya'll were a doin' here a week 'fore you were right properly dead.  Jesse, I know how you spend yer last five minnits so ya'll can done skip that mess.

Some mood music

The dead boys manage to make it to the church and request sanctuary from the priest, who stands up to Evans and tells him off before Evans calmly mentions that they aren't currently wanted in connection with anything--he just wants answers. Answers will have to wait, however, until the boys are fed. Alouette makes sure of that. After the boys get a proper fish fry, Wildcat Hawkins joins up with them, pitching a holy fit about him letting Charging Bear out of his cell. Eans explains to her that the price of him pinning that Marshal badge back on is the leeway to conduct his affairs as he sees fit, then takes the note exonerating the brave and shows it to Charging Bear, who has been watching the dead boys to make sure they don't slip off again.

Meanwhile, back at the old mining office Jake Lawrence is presiding over the search of the cell with Deputy Bill McCoy and Deputy Elijah Fuller. The Jellicle Gang have been quiet thus far, though the man has made cryptic reference to a patron who will not be pleased and a third member still at large.

Once the boys are fed, the questions begin...



Danny--"You're wrong, girlie. I'm a Yankee born and bred, and nothing you say to me will ever change that. But I'm done with fightin'. I just want to go home now, even if home is still in Reb hands. I just want to get out o' this damn town."

Jesse--[just glares at her]



[both look at each other, then bust out laughing for a few minutes]

Jesse--"I woke up. In a coffin. Ya dumb bitch."

Danny--[takes a few moments to collect himself] "I can't speak for him, but I really couldn't tell ye. *cough, cough* First I knew somethin' was...different, I was robbin' a stagecoach, trying to get away from this blighted hellhole. *cough, cough* Got knocked around a bit, but I got well very quickly, quickly enough to get shot by one of ye idiot deputies. Then that Devil Doctor whirled into town and whisked me away, probably to do me in in the comfort o' his own home, and when I tried to sneak away that crazy angel machine *cough, cough* yanked me back to the ranch. Thought I suppose it did keep me from getting killed, and wouldn't let anyone near me, so I have to thank it for that at least. But I wasn't too keen on staying there, so I tried to sneak out. The clank followed and got shot up by the Devil Doctor's enforcer, who then shot me up and left me for dead. I crawled back to town and then heard this fool singing his head off from inside a casket, so I let him out and we tried to sneak away. That didn't work out, so now we're here."

Jesse--[growl] "Hey, watch what you done say 'bout my boss, Mic. Doc Ward was only tryin' to patch ya up. Way I heard things, you tried to play dead, then held a knife to Ward's servant when they found ya out. I'd say ya'll got what was comin' to ya."

[they start arguing and yelling horrible things at each other for a few minutes until calmed down]

((OOC: More to come))

At some point during this delicious exchange of probable half truths and swears between two men who ought to be worm food, Wildcat's cobalt eye settled on the clank.

Daphne Hawkins, an iron matron of a woman with some positively quaint ideas about the lives little girls should lead as grown women (or perhaps she was just afraid of anyone else in her family following in Buster's footsteps even before he was killed), had taken great pains to groom her daughter, had made sure that little Katrina only ever read the Bible and a few schoolbooks, the former as much as possible and the latter as little as possible.  Ironically, Daphne Hawkins had made the thing she feared so much would happen by installing this spiritual strength, spartan lifestyle, and iron discipline in her young daughter.

She had made Wildcat, the curious Lady Ranger whose favorite color really was pink, not that anyone would ever know it, she who fought men a foot taller and sixty pounds heavier but kept her hair long and flowing, who seemed at war with her own femininity, which seemed lay eternally dormant under the surface.

But our Lady Ranger spent so much time warring with her own inner workings, deciding if Wildcat or Katrina was in charge at any given moment, that she and her pared down grade school education just couldn't keep up with the inner workings of anything else.  As much as Wildcat knew of the great mysteries of God. man and the other things that shared this earth, the steel and copper souls of machines were a true mystery to her; she could take her guns apart enough to get the gunk of them and oil when necessary, but that was about the height of her mechanical, technical and scientific expertise.

The wonders of the new science were thus well beyond any frame of reference she had, the improvised glue gun and that strange detection machine that Evans had produced while she had been here were marvels to her.  In a less insane situation she might have stared at them for considerable lengths of time.  But even the insanity of Blackthorn couldn't distract her from this.  This put Evan's contraptions positively to shame.

Her look was one of pure wonder, for she simply had no background in sciences, mechanics or even speculative fiction to wrap her mind around the concept of a talking machine.

"What in the Sam Hill is that."  She speculated aloud softly but clearly, the thought not even occurring to her the talking thing might be capable of interaction.

Alouette, after firstly confirming the differently-dressed Charging Bear is in fact Charging Bear and giving him his due delayed-action glomping, and secondly wittering a cheerful response to the priest's questions about various holes (this seems to involve a kitten, bad men, a damned yankee and Comanches) has come up to the pair of squabbling differently alive lads.

"Church is Santa Barbara, not Sam Hill," it corrects mildly, then points to its chest with the dustcloth it's picked up and informs her: "Self is also angel, White Hat Being."

Of death, "Danny Albatross probably died of starvation plus illness - high probability he was fed irregularly, and creatures only, causing his body to continue attempts to grow and use all its energy, not fight diseases. Hunger, hurt and unkindness can turn differently alive people wendigo."

Fellow angel thus brought up to date, it attempts to polish Jesse.

"Did... did you done make any cotton-pickin' sense?"  The inquiry was genuine, as was the confusion.  "Wait... angels?  Yer tellin' me there's somethin' else in this here town to worry about?"

The tin-can angel gamely tries to navigate grammar and idiom. "Did not did not done do advise manner of cotton collection, White Hat Being," it tries, still trying to polish its new differently alive friend.

"Also, Danny Albatross promised not to bite people, and he has been fed plus fish and retains some of his Christian soul," the automaton chirps. "Fear Not! Low probability Danny Albatross will turn completely wendigo and start trying to eat alive people unless he is killed again, or becomes subject to further starvation plus unkindness...Gus Shaw wanted to burn him when he killed Danny Albatross after the Damned Yankee stabbed Called Charging Bear and self told him not to throw Danny Albatross in the pit where the bodies are buried. That would be very bad: distribution of ash containing fragments of undead or differently alive blood onto grazing land, garden crops, water supply would infect plus plus mortals. Gus Shaw is a Bad Man," it adds, in case she hadn't gathered that.

"Jesse Hohlfeld may not turn wendigo at all, if he is fed plus plus fish. Also, he has holy songs in."

"Tarnation, I didn't reckon any of that mess..."  Wildcat can't believe she's talking to this... whatever it is, "thing" doesn't seem like the appropriate word for some reason.  Nothing this wondrous is a mere thing.  "Yer a tellin' me, these here walkin' dead turn into something worse if they ain't fed a big ol' heap o'fish?"

Wildcat just stares incredulously, the cobalt blue eyes undecided if they should be wide with awe or narrowed tight with frustration.  Then the revelation comes over her and she has to smile at her own foolishness.

A talkin' machine, what a dad gum fool I am sometimes, ain't no such thing...  It must be a real little person inside talking, it's a suit of armor, one of them newfangled contraptions.

"Alright I figgered ya, there's a little man inside there ain't there?  Ain't you gettin' awful hot in there little feller?  Well maybe it's a trick and yer actually somewheres else, or yer an awful tiny cowpoke."  Wildcat taps the casing gently for the benefit of its internal occupant.  "Well it don't matter.  It's all right, see I'm a Texas Ranger, Ranger Hawkins, and I ain't gonna hurt you none.  I reckon if I had a metal suit I'd crawl up inside it too at a time like this."

Wildcat shows the clank, whose nature she is very mistaken about at the moment, her recently acquired credentials.  She takes a gentle tone reserved usually for children or the very senile elderly, a tone she hasn't used much since coming to Blackthorn.

"But I need you to calm down, there's some weird goings on here, and it sounds like ya'll done been right up in the middle of them longer 'n I have.  Ah'm here to stop th' ornery cusses if'n ah don't get kilt first, but ah need ya'll to calm down and talk sense."

Evans, who had been watching the pair of Alouette and Wildcat with an amused smile, takes this opportunity to step in.

"I beleive I can be of some assistance in translating our friend Alouette. You see, there is a legend among certain tribes in the Northwestern USA, the Sioux Nations, and Canada of a cannibal spirit created when a human, through circumstances or depravity, eats the flesh of another human. I read a fascinating article about these 'wendigo' in an issue Tombstone Epitaph, my copy of which was sadly destroyed along with the rest of my effects in the explosion."

"Now, I've seen first hand that the, er, 'differently alive' have a great hunger for flesh, from humans or otherwise. I would theorize that this craving for flesh stems from a need for animal protein by the animating aether spirit, possibly as a means of sustaining the necrotic tissue of the host corpse. Our pair of differently alive individuals happen to be much more lucid and sane than the average deader, which may mean the process of becoming monstrous, brain-seeking abominations intent on ending all life they encounter is degenerative."

"This is only a theory, mind, and there could be a whole host of factors involved, such as the state of decomposition of the host corpse when inhabited by an aetheric entity, the temperament of the entity involved, and so on, but what I believe our friend Alouette is saying is that the kind of meat the differently alive consume plays a role in how fast they degenerate from normal human behavior to feral monstrosity. Red meat is perilous, the meat of one's own species even more so, and contrariwise seafood is relatively benign. This is not without precedent. Certain forms of Texas Fever may be caused by feeding the meat and bone meal of cattle to other cattle, for instance."

"Get this thing off me!" Jesse squeals, apparently not finding Alouette's attempt at "polishing" to be very comfortable.

"As for your theory as to Alouette's form of locomotion, well...allow me to put that to rest." Evans saunters over to the clank and it's new toy. "Alouette, with your permission I would like to remove the outer covering of your chest plate, so that Miss Hawkins here may examine your internal mechanism."

Alouette watches the Ranger tap at it with curiousity. "?"
"Yes, plus plus fish..." It seems to approve of the credentials, leaving off its attempts to make Jesse a clean-almost-living citizen to get a better look. "Shiny," it agrees.

Alouette points at itself again. "Self is angel, Texas Ranger Ranger Hawkins...God controls self, not..." it looks to the others in general "...what is the word for the little people?"

It then points at Evans. "Ambrose has long words," and adds to his description: "Differently alive people are not walking dead...undead happen when someone dies and is hollow, and their clay is made to move with other energy - by demons, or strong lost souls, or witchcraft. Differently alive people happen when someone is killed, but a spirit creature friend comes to live in the wound, or they get other energy, and they don't die. They keep being alive...differently."

"If you are not polished, people might make you have a bath," the self-proclaimed angel warns Jesse, meanwhile noting that polishing does stop arguments.

"Permitted," it chirps at Evans' suggestion.

Charging Bear listens to all the going on, perhaps weighing all in his mind. "There is much going on here that seems to be coming from Native legend. Alouette's thoughts of these two becoming Wendigo, what I saw at Ward's. All too strange." The native son touches the ragdoll hanging around his neck as he mentions his encounter at Circle W Ranch.

His eyes shift to Danny and Jesse, "I don't think these two will be come Wendigo in the traditional sense as they've not committed an act of cannibalism.  I've a feeling that all the strange happenings are tied to Ward, the mine and the spirits than we have come to learn."

In reply to Alouette (msg #71):

"In the interest of politeness, I think 'little people' would be the correct term." Evans says as he examines Alouette's chestplate. "Other terms you might hear used for them are not especially proper."

"Hmm...that's an interesting perspective." He mutters as he goes about his examination. "I hadn't considered the possibility of aetheric bonding creating the unliving. I wonder which type our vampires are...how do you get this thing open? Oh, I see now..."

Evans produces a screwdriver from his coat and begins to work, pulling screws and collecting them, then carefully removes the plate to reveal...

Upstairs, Jake finished his search and ushered the Jellicle Gang into their cell. "I think y'all will be fine watching these two, and I want to talk to Evans. If there is a third member and a puppeteer we should look have a look for 'em." with that he left Bill and Elijah to watch the pair and headed to talk to Marshall Evans.

In reply to Jake Lawrence (msg #74):

...internal workings like a physical demonstration of the fine line between genius and madness - a hardened engineer would want to cry half at the purity of the mechanisims and half at the seemingly senseless arrangements. One has to give up ordinary logic and accept what's connected to what is there for a reason.

The boiler is clearly itself, thrumming with the muted lament of burning ghost rock. A large box above it which presumably holds a compacted fuel supply is marked, like the inside of the casing, with the impossible date of 1850. Other little boxes have labels like 'recuerdos' and 'respuestas'. Several recent repairs shine out - new nuts, bolts, bits of thermite welding and copper wire. Peculiarly, there seems to be a relatively fresh animal paw wired to what's presumably a pipe for channelling pressurised air up towards the head for speech towards the back.

Cog, cam and piston arrays are visible relating to the limbs and movement of the neck, and other, tiny, arrays relating to the boxes, transferring energy with insane - or genius-born - efficiency. Everything; heat, air, smoke, steam, fuel dust, movement, condensation, all feeds back into the clank's workings, probably as close to the edge of perpetual (auto)motion as human endeavour is ever likely to get.

Although the whole thing must have taken a mind-bending amount of time, effort and dedication to complete, a lot of the creator's attention seems to have been focused on the static control system. Many things, including those that should never logically generate fields or spark, are eventually connected to a hand-high blackened lead box beside the area where a human heart might be with no label but 'danger' in several languages and a little skull for the illiterate.

~

Folk watching can see its internals move and balances shift as it looks over at Charging Bear to query: "Mine?" then to Danny "Is that where y'all were hauling the ghost rock for Doctor Ward?"


[[Mostly copied from when Augustus looked, with tweaks. Technical stuffs for Evans' benefit, since he's the only one likely to think "Oh sweet Marx, you're a miracle of engineering" while everyone else just goes "shiny."]]
This message was last edited by the player at 18:49, Wed 07 Sept 2011.

OOC: Roll as requested
14:49, Today: Jake Lawrence rolled 7,7 using 1d6+2,1d6+2, rerolling max with rolls of 5,5. Notice (+2 Coop).

In reply to Jake Lawrence (msg #77):


The vault's cubbyholes are checked and inspected. Almost all are empty, though there are a half-dozen deposit boxes still intact and locked. Still, it would take a prybar, time, and a lot of noise to open even a single one of them. Only a few of the ones easily accessible had anything other than dust--almost all of that debris is paper (old contracts, long-forgotten private letters, and the like). The only thing of value found is a CSA $10 Gold Eagle coin, and there aren't any tools or obvious weapons among the trash.

Rolling the golden eagle over in his left hand, Jake pondered is next move. "On second thought, Elijah would you be so good as to go inform the Marshall of what these two have told us. Bill and I will stay and watch 'em."

After Elijah leaves, Jake pulled up a seat at on the floor away from the prisoners and produced a set of cards from his coat pocket. "Bill you're on first watch. I've got a couple of things to sort out in my head before I can get any rest." He slowly began to turn the cards out of the deck into a strange game of solitaire which he studied for what seemed like an eternity.

OOC: Casting Hunch on the male prisoner
16:07, Today: Jake Lawrence drew the 9 cards: 9S, 2H, 10S, QD, 6H, BJ!, KS, RJ!, KD using a deck of 54 cards. Hunch (deal w/ devil 3pps).
KS, BJ! = QS, RJ! = JS, 10S, 9S looks like a Straight Flush to me
This message was last edited by the player at 20:16, Wed 07 Sept 2011.

In reply to Alouette (msg #76):

"Tarnation..."  Wildcat exclaims softly, not entirely sure what she's looking at.

Wildcat wasn't sure what to believe here.  None of it made a lick of sense.  A machine... even one this complicated, can't do such things.  It's ridiculous to think it could.  However Wildcat subconciously had always followed the principle that when you eliminated the impossible, whatever remained, however improbable, was the truth.

She stands up erect, dwarfed by Charging Bear and even Evans, and looks down at the machine angel.  Wildcat couldn't read Charging Bear so easily (although he had brought up a fantastic point she intended to address presently), but she had a feeling Evans was, ironically, more blind to this thing's nature than she was.  Sometimes, perspective is gold while intelligence is silver.

The son of man shall send forth his angels, and they shall gather out of his kingdom all things that offend, and them which do iniquity.  And so it will be at the end of the age; the angels will come forth and take out the wicked from among the righteous.

But that didn't really prove anything to her, there was always something happening somewhere that could be The Big One, The End of it All.  This was bad yes, but it would be extreme ego to think this was It.

Wildcat pondered a moment longer, then posed a question to the talking tin.  Whether it suffices as an Angel Test or not, future philosophers and theologians will have to ponder.

"Art thou my fellow servant, and of my brethren the prophets, and of them which keep the sayings of the book?"

Evans, for his part, is busy gawking at the impossible inner workings of the clank. Whatever he was expecting to see, this clearly wasn't quite it.

"That...no, that shouldn't...but maybe...Oh, that's clever, I think, but it couldn't possibly work like that...and that is just...and...but maybe if you were to reverse the polarity of the aetheric flow...how in God's name does that not fry those gears to slag?...It's...well, that was clever, now, wasn't it, but it shouldn't...and yet it seems it does...Oh, oh, I see now..."

Alouette angles its head so that the Ranger is looking into a lens rather than at the end of its 'beak'.
"Yes."

It points out a certain arrangement of wire and copper strip to Evans, apparently in response to one of his ramblings. Then it tilts its head at Wildcat the other way, wondering a little whether the other angel has been drinking the stuff with forgetting in.

"An angel given a mechanical form..."  Wildcat said it aloud.  Well, putting aside her semantic quibbles, it was supernatural, and she had her orders.  Shoot It or Recruit It.

But Shoot It, although her usual reaction to most things, just seemed plain wrong this time and Wildcat didn't even consider it.  That left only one option.

"Al-You-Wet, until further notice ah reckon yer either property of, or a person of interest to, the Confederated States of America until such time as we can decide that you ain't one, the other, or neither.  An' wit' the judge bein' dead, kilt by a Texas Ranger no less, that might be a spell.

Recruit It.

"However you are not under arrest.  You are however done ordered ta report for duty.  Marshal Evans, ya might as well deputize him.  You're with me now Deputy Clank."

Sure that his reaction to her request will be intersting, she tries to cut him off by switching to Charging Bear.

"Charging Bear done nailed it ah reckon, everythin' and its dog that done happened ties back to Ward, and ta Ward ah must mosey.  Ah think ah may need to strike a deal wit' a couple of fish eatin' walkers.  And call it female in-too-ishun or female hysteria, but ah reckon Deputy Clank is gonna figure right up in the middle of it."
This message was last edited by the player at 17:36, Thu 08 Sept 2011.

"Howdy." Alouette tries to keep up with all this. "Self is-can doing done has duty," it tries, then to the statement that it is with her now: "Yes."

"Does self mosey there also?" it asks, then tries to add helpful information: "Doctor Ward is a Man of Genius and Complicated, that means he has Rules and if you break them he will shoot you from ten paces away."

*ticktick* Brass flutters like mechanical spiderlegs over one of the little boxes, whatever processes being calculated within surely requiring jeweller's instruments to fashion.

"-Doctor Ward also has a little pistol that was witched: self told Doctor Ward it was dangerous and felt like murders so he said holy words and it was safe...but when self said the holy words over Danny Albatross to make him safe it just made him invisible to angels, so self is not sure if the gun is fixed. Doctor Ward also has traces of harmful energies in his liver, high probability from witched butter, and a snake friend, and a hat with plus plus many crows in that eat Pure Blooded Comanches, and a machine like God of unknown function in his kitchen."

Charging Bear remains quiet, watching the back and forth between Wildkitten and Alouette was more entertainment than he'd gotten in some time now. Wonder if I should mention all the summoning implements I saw in Ward's barn.

In reply to Alouette (msg #84):

"Snake!?  It ain't a big ol' monster named Tex-ass-coat-ill, reckon?"

"Very big and plus plus old, Texas Ranger Ranger Hawkins," Alouette agrees. "His snake friend lives in another place, unlike the snake friend of Gus Shaw, which is also from another plane but lives in his chest."

"Quetzalcoatl is the more common I think." Charging Bear says to Wildkittenm "Regardless, I think it all comes back to the summoning circle that Ward has in his barn which also doubles as his workshop I believe.

The native son looks between the clank and the ranger, "But that's just my guessin'. You two might have different ideas when you see the place."

Evans is still gawking at the inner workings of the clank as the conversations around him swirl.

"Yes, yes, I see now!" He mutters as Alouette points out part of it's anatomy. "That's clever, very clever indeed...Oh, yes, very good. Deputize hi...wait, what?" You can almost hear the mental gears crunching as his mind switches tracks. "Now wait just a moment, madam! I remember saying this to someone earlier who got the notion that our clockwork angel here was theirs to do with as they please, but I'll speak my piece to you as well. Alouette is not your property, nor the property of the Confederate Government, the President of the United States, or the Man in the Moon! He is a thinking, self-aware being, with all the rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness that entails! Last I heard, slavery was rendered illegal on both sides of the Mason-Dixon line, and I will not abide any attempt by you or anyone else to treat this marvel of the times as some common machine!"

"There is much wisdom in your words Evans." Charging Bear says in agreement about Alouette.

"Is the snake a witch?" Alouette asks Charging Bear, since he seems to know about these things. "A witch or witches are hexing some cows so the butter is bad...we should find the witches and tell them to repent before someone eats the cows and plus plus witchcraft...that could make them sick, and leave their clay vulnerable to demons like the clay of the No Name Yankee self buried at the crossroads."

It cranes to see what the priest is doing. "If Gus Shaw has burnt other undead or differently alive people self, Shepherd and Texas Ranger Ranger Hawkins should bless all the water so that it is minus witchcraft."

There's some looking between Evans, Wildcat and Charging Bear that one might assume was puzzled, then the automaton starts trying to polish Evans in its gentle but clumsy way.
"Self belongs to God," it repeats, then pauses a moment and tilts its head a little at Evans. "Mortals act, with liberty, angels...are. Primary command: protect."

"But ah reckon everything belongs to God, Al-You-Wet.  Now you just two fellers just simmer down.  What we have here, is amazin'.  It may be the most amazin' thing I ever seen an' that is sayin' somethin'.

"Ain't neither of you thought about the repercussions of news of this feller gettin' out to the world at large though.  This here is for all intents 'n purposes an angel."  Wildcat looks in the dark lenses.

"An' fer all intents 'n purposes, it's alive, an worse yet it's wide eyed an' probably innocent like a child.  But... it ain't human.  Things that ain't human, get dealt wit'.  An' tryin' ta hurt the metal feller, even thinkin' 'bout it, just seems wrong."

Wildcat pauses as if to establish this point of commonality they can all agree on and kneels to speak to the clank directly.

"So mah only choice is to put it on my side.  Little feller, you say you's here to protect me, but ah think you done got that one backwards.  The reaction you done injendered in these folks is all the proof ah need of that."

Wildcat straightens up to address the other two.

"If'n it persists on for two long, it's inevitable someone will try to destroy it.  Or someone else with a badge bigger than mine will run into it, an' he'll wind up as a pile of wires 'n cogs on a bench somewheres as some idjit tries to figger out how to make another one of 'em.  Until ah see evidence such ain't the case, he's like a baby.  Someone's gotta step in and take charge of him 'til he done grows up.

"This can't get out fellers, this can't get out at all.  The boys in Austin wouldn't know what to do with this, an' they'd probably do the safest thing an' just dismantle th' little feller.  That ain't right.  This here is somethin' ain't never seen before.  Ah can't help that it's been seen much as it has, but when this mess is over this little feller need ta vanish, but by God he ain't goin' nowhere official.  I want to advance an' all but not at the expense of throwin' a livin' thing that did nothin' wrong to a fate I can't control.

"An' all that aside, are you hearing what he's going on and on about!?  He's done right up in the middle of this mess!  He knows more'n he knows how to say!  No, if'n what Charging Bear says is right, an' I'd bet mah boots it is, we're going to this Ward character.  An' he's coming 'long, he's got somethin' to do with it as much as Ward does.  So ya might as well deputize him Marshal Evans.  That way it's damn clear he ain't nobody's property.

"The clank is with me, or at least with us c'llectiv'ly, until I can figger out somethin' to do with him.  Ain't no preacher, but ah been a Methodist since 'fore I was born.  This here's obviously an angel sent to help me along.  If'n God has other ideas than that, it'll become right apparent presently.  God ain't been real shy about smitin' me if recent events are any indication."

"True, Texas Ranger Ranger Hawkins, but if you dig things up in the wilderness like the ghost rock or Chineses and somebody claimed the land you are liable to be exploded - Robert Mickelthwait said so."

It tilts its head, trying to keep up. "Do not advise shooting self: danger of explosion, combustion, shrapnel, noxious fumes and disfavour of God." It may move away if anyonme looks liable to do this. It just looks at Wildcat when she says it has its protective duties backwards.
"? Jake Lawrence said we all could go to New Or Leans when self had finished protecting Town, Texas from demons and undead and delaying the apocalypse," it offers.

It isn't entirely sure who "he" is when not directly addressed, but eagerly responds to the last bit: "Yes: help." It pauses and looks at the ceiling. "God says you should talk to Him more often."

In reply to Jake Lawrence (msg #79):

Some Mood Music

Jake pulls his mind into the Hunting Grounds, searching for a Joker to match wits with. What he finds is a tall, powerful-looking Indian with scaly red skin and yellow snake eyes, with turquoise stripes painted across his eyes and mouth. The Indian does not look at Jake directly, but instead watches Jake's reflection in a mirror made of black glass. All around the pair sit hundreds of red-eyed crows.

"You have come seeking knowledge." He says. His voice rattles the air. Jake nods, and sets for the rules of engagement as described in the Book of Hoyle.

The two spar for what seems like hours, though only seconds pass for Jake's body. In the end the spirit-Indian bows his head in what jake thinks is defeat. "You seek knowledge." the spirit says again. "Very well. Knowledge you shall have!"

The spirit-Indian takes his gaze from the mirror and looks at Jake directly. He smiles, a toothy grin that reveals sharp fangs dripping with venom, and Jake realizes he was tricked as the man's head shoots forward on a monstrously elongated neck, jaws distending impossibly wide. The spirit-Indian bites down, and Jake feels the venom enter his veins. Pain rips through his body as images swirl before his eyes...







"Knowledge." The spirit-Indian's voice slithers through Jake's ears. "A surfeit of knowledge. All the knowledge you could want. But beware, for my gifts do not come free. We shall speak again, when there are things I feel you should know. Until we meet again, Jacob Lawrence."

The voice quiets. The pain dulls. And Jake awakens to find himself flat on his back, with a concerned deputy looking down on him.

"Good god, man!" Elijah says. "Are you alright? You just had a terrible fit!"

In reply to Alouette (msg #93):

"Well Charging Bear's done cinched this fer me.  There's plenty fer me to do here, but it'd be like bailing water of a bucket when the spigot's done left on.

"Ah don't do this lightly, these killers is extremely dangerous, but I know they's workin' fer th' snake.  Ah'd send someone else 'n go huntin' th' missin' one, but ah think Ward needs ta know folks in high places are latchin' on ta what the hell's going on here."

In reply to Tezcatlcoatl (msg #94):

Jake gave Elijah a slightly blank look. His mind was still processing the whole happening on the Hunting Grounds. He was pale and sweating but there was no reason for it. His hand shot up to his neck and shoulder to the site of the bite but there was no bite marks just his own unmarred flesh.

After moment, he looked at the two prisoner, "I got something need to tell Evans and the Ranger. If these two try something funny, I suggest shooting them." Jake stood up, his legs wobbled for a moment before settling into a stride that carried him out the door and down the road.

@ Jake:

Elijah nods. "I think we can handle these two for now. They've been quite docile thus far. Though that does have me a bit worried..."

But whatever he has to say about his worries fgalls on deaf ears as Jake strides out the door and rushes for the church. It only takes him a few minutes to get there...

---

@ Wildcat, Charging Bear, Alouette:

"Now wait just a goddamned minute!" Jesse shouts. "You ain't gonna do no such thing! Ward ain't doin' nothin' wrong...you're just after him 'cause he done give us all a good turn, and you want to take it from us! Ya'll don't know what's really going on...Ward's got a plan to turn this whole town around! Save us all from the poorhouse, he will, and may god strike me down if'n I let a bitch like you take that from us!"

In reply to The Stray (msg #97):

“Con sarn, tarnation, and dag nab it!  Ya’ll are jumpin’ to conclusions faster than a horny toad on a hot waffle iron!”

Wildcat has just about lost it with Jesse.

“Let me learn you real good right now you are going to change your tone with me!  Just ‘cuz I lack that little skinflap ‘twixt yer legs that wouldn’t pass fer a mouse’s peter don’t mean ya’ll can call me a damn bitch every time you open yer filthy chaw stained mouth! ”

Wildcat looked back to Deputy Clank.  “This ‘un done calt me an angel, that makes him th’ most charmin’ lady killer in town at this point.  Think I’d rather be marry’t that clank than a man if I done judged men by you!

“Now you listen ta me an’ you listen real good ya idjit.  Sometimes in life people gets things they don’t deserve, good folks get bad shakes or bad folks strike gold, tain’t fair ‘t all, but they done get ‘em anyhow.  But just ‘cause somethin’ bad done happened ta ya, don’t mean yer one of th’ good folks.

“You in right particular belonged in th’ much of that overturned outhouse, that there was a literal tipping point in yer sorry former life.  But you didn’t git there, an’ you didn’t git here, cuz yer a sweet little feller oppressed by th’ bad ol’ Ranger.  By th’ lord above, look at me!  I ain’t much bigger than th’ clank here, fact I might actually be shorter out of th’ boots!

“No what done happened to you was you spent your whole damn life playin’ stupid games, and guess what partner, you won stupid prizes!  Con-grat-yal-ations.  Ya’ll could have done turned yer life around when ya got off scot free fer rob’ry.  Ya’ll coulda done said gosh, that was a close ‘un, mebbe I oughtta straighten up ‘n fly right from now on.

“But no! Ya'll done said ta hell with that, I’m gonna done go join up with some ol’ cowboy gang ‘n then shoot th’ person who caught me, like it’s my damn fault you had to rob the bank! An' ya know what partner you may not have much of a pecker, but you got a big damn set of balls to be mad at me for shooting you!  An’ now yer a callin’ me a bitch!  The Odd-Ass-City! To hell with that noise!”

Wildcat’s eyes have flared to the point of blue fire again.  This time it’s different though, there’s no violence in her posture, just frustration.  She calms down and speaks softly, calmly.

“Ah was filt wit’ bullet holes from a low down snake ‘n the grass, ‘n you picked a fight wit’ me cuz you know I were hurt, ‘n scared.  I’ll admit it I were terrified.  I do not fear death, but ah don’t wanna die, like most people.

“Ah do not expect an apology because fact is… I’m over yer life.  I carry more grudges than ammunition, and ah. Am Over.  You.  An’ Yer Whole Life, everything you ever did don’t matter to me one whit now.  I. Am. Over.  It.  But you ain’t.  Because you know it was miserable, and squandered, and wasted.  Yer life was spent covered ‘n scat, ‘n bein’ shot dead by a little scared gal, ‘n bein’ a bully ‘n robbin’ folks who worked hard fer what you done took from ‘im ‘n Lord knows what else you done.  Now not entirely mind ya, but big chunks of it.

“So ah’m convinced yer here, after the death you so rightly deserve, yer here instead of roasting in th’ devil’s fire pits, fer a reason.  Ya do care about them out there, don’t ya.  It may be yer only redeeming quality.

“There ain’t nothin’ great ‘bout who you were, but there could be ‘bout who you become.  Yer boss man Ward, ah doubt he’s done anything illegal, but more importantly than whether he’s legal or not I don’t think he even meant to do anythin’ wrong.  All ah want to do is talk to 'im.  But yer boys out there, th’ Adders, they done built me up as some kind of monster, the very personification of what’s keepin’ them down in life.  Look at me.  What you see, that’s all I am, no more ‘n no less.

“<blue>Ya don’t have to love me ‘n they sure as hell don’t neither.  But this insanity, this mess, I mean look at this. You know this ain’t right, it ain’t right at all.  Do something good, stop this.  Get yer man Ward to listen to me jaw.  Get yer boys on my side, just long enough to stop this.  If we're fightin' each other, it's what that damn snake wants!  Ah'm sure of it!

“What’s happened here, it will take years to really fix it all.  We’re gonna need some help out here.  Yer… condition, if ya do what th’ clank says, mebbe ya can control it, you can help in ways other folks cain't.  Cooperate damn it, you can build a bridge to people outside of yer little pity party gang of ne'er-do-wells, folks who believe it or not do not wish you ill, quite to th' contrary actually.  I believe if this evilness stops, something good will come back to this town.  God damn it Jesse, I’ve swallowed so much of mah pride ah’m going to be passing it fer a month of Sundays.  Do the same.  Save Ward, save yer boys.”

Wildcat smiles and changes tone.  She continues in a sing song voice.

“Besides, if’n all th’ messes here get cleaned up, ah’ll have to go away. ”

Jake moved through the streets like a man with a purpose, though he did stop to look over his shoulder a time or two and muttered about crows and snakes as he went. He pondered all the snake man had shown him, wondering what of it was true and want was false. "Rules of the game are ca-ca-ca-clear," Jake muttered to no one particular, "They lose they do what ya say, bu-bu-bu-but snakes are classic fixtures of lies and deceit in the matters of occult."

Stopping in his tracks just shy of the church, Jake looked around to see who or what was about.

"Teritary command: catch sparrows," Alouette adds, apparently in agreement.

"Self does not kill ladies, Texas Ranger Ranger Hawkins," it clarifies, then to Jesse: "Safe un-witched cattle also equal substance, work for town, Texas. Texas Ranger Ranger Hawkins says you have worth, Jesse Hohlfeld, but also will, to do: this is a True Thing."

*ticktick*

"Jesus loves you, too."

With a slight mischievous grin, Charging Bear asks Alouette, "Who's Jesus?"

That catches Alouette's attention. "Jesus is God when He has bones in, and a mother," it explains earnestly, then straightens as something strikes it. "Jesus is like the hole in the top of Doctor Ward's God machine, when it collects, and Does. They killed him a lot, too," it reassures Danny.

Then it turns to Jesse. "Advise leaving all balls of anger outside, with the shotgun." Then after a little ticking: "Advise all y'all to do done do that also."

There seemed to be quite a lot of arguments going on inside of the church, but outside of it the streets are quiet. The sky is grey and a cold wind bearing the scent of rain whips through the avenue. Shadowy crows with red eyes perch along the eaves of buildings, staring at him.

"Rain... always makes things interesting."

Jake muttered as he watched the crows eyeing him. His right hand worked the rosary in slow circles like it would keep the creatures at bay. He knew the crows wouldn't be restrained by a simple rosary, but the church that might do the trick. Wasting no more time, Jake pushed on to the church.

He stopped at the door and knocked, "Marshall Evans! Its Jake Lawrence we need to talk."

"If the shoe fits, Miss High-And-Mighty!" Jesse shoots back. "Ya'll think the Dust Adders are some kind o' hoodlums like the rail gangs or that outfit out in Arizona. Well we ain't. We're a band o' brothers, like the James Gang, only we just protect what's ours! Jesus Christ almighty, you ever think on why a man might want to go try and rob a bank in the first place?"



"That's good," he mutters, "'cause you weren't gettin' one."



"I do care. I got friends there still, and an ob-lee-gate-shun to make sure you don't ruin their lives like you done mine."



"People didn't start dyin' 'till you came to town, Ranger." Jesse growls, but Danny comes up behind him and taps him on the shoulder.

"Excuse me..." he says, and when Jesse turns around, the Irishman belts him across the face, sending him sprawling. The Yankee snarls and follows him, kicking the Texan repeatedly unless he's dragged away.

"Ye son of a whore!" Danny screams. "What 'bout me own friends, eh!? Starved, beat, forced to dig that devil rock out yer boss's half-collapsed mine, growin' sicker an' sicker by the day! You and all ye friends can burn in blazes for what ye done to me and me fellows!"



Evans, watching the whole scene unfold, sighs. "Take care of this, please...I just hope the town isn't on fire this time."

He strides over to the church doors, opening them to let Jake pass. "What's wrong this time?"

Wildcat can hopefully catch the Yankee off guard and restrain him with a simple arm lock.

OOC:  Fighting roll?

"The fact you done think the James Gang is yer heroes or somethin' done shows you lost touch with yer sense.  Look feller I ain't th' one who chucked dynamite in th' marshal's office.  An' much as I hate ta admit it, the Yankee's done got a point! But he needs ta calm the hell down!"

Alouette, still minus casing, attempts to get between the aggressive parties.

"Cease!"

In reply to The Amazing Evans (msg #105):

Jake looked behind him as though expecting someone there, then turned to the Marshall, "You might want to let me in... seems there are three members of that little gang and he done got to that pony express rider. Lady Ranger's message ain't getting to anyone who can't read smoke signals."

Wildcat's grip is sure, and the brief intercession of the clank puts an end to any further aggressive acts.

Jesse seems more bewildered by the attack than hurt, and doesn't respond to Wildcat's comment. Danny, held fast, doesn't seem eager to turn this in to a huge brawl, so though he's seething mad he doesn't try to break the ranger's grip.

Evans blinks. "That's...interesting news. Assassins? As in the ones that attacked our local ranger yesterday?"

((OOC: Remember that Evans hasn't been informed yet of the attack in the Grand Bull...))

he stands aside. "It's a public building, you don't need my permission to enter..." he begins, then stops, and eyes Jake suspiciously. "Unless you happen to be some sort of vampire which, given recent events, is not outside the realm of possibility. So enter, Jake, of your own accord. If you can."

There's a sort of manic gleam in Evans' eye, one Jake remembers all too well when Dr. Frost went on one of his long tirades about the evils of unionized labor...

"Vampires don't use those," Alouette declares, pointing at the ever-present rosary, then looks about briefly for the priest, then down at Jesse. You can literally see the gears turning, albeit not in its little head.

It addresses Charging Bear: "What makes people clever?"

Wildcat, while relying mostly on leverage, nevertheless relaxes just a bit to be able to sustain the grip longer.  Brute strength is not her strong point.

"All right you two... dial it down.  Th' Yankee made a good point, th' mess that started here, 'twere started long 'fore ah done came 'round here.  It's more accurate ta say ah'm a simp-ton, not th' ailment.

"What was you doin' gettin' sick down there anyway?  No one's mentioned that, good Lord how many horr'ble things done happ'ned 'round here?"

In reply to The Amazing Evans (msg #109):

"As far as I know, that would be 'em." Jake said, his eyes shifted focus slightly to look past Evans into the church for a moment before looking the Marshal in the eye again.

"Well Doc... er Marshal, I think I will." with that Jake took a step into the church.

In reply to Alouette (msg #110):

Charging Bear sat quietly watching the goings on, his hand sat lazily on his hip near the gunbelt he wore. The turned his gaze to the talking tin can as she addressed him, "Clever is just a way of using the smarts one has. I might be clever at trapping, while Evans is clever with mechanical things and Ms Ranger there is probably clever with her pistol."

This seems to make good sense to the clank, who stands and digests the information quietly ticking to itself for a little before asking:

"What is Danny Albatross clever at?"

[[it is actually trying to work something out over there, though Danny himself might answer it in the scheme of things...
By the way CB, you are an exceptionally good clank daddy.]]

Danny snarls a bit at Wildcat, but then relaxes and sighs. "Fine. I'll tell ye. Let me down."

He sinks to his knees when Wildcat does this.


Danny snorts at Alouette's comment. "Gettin' inta trouble. That's what I'm clever at. Ain't so good at gettin' out again, though."

[[OOC: Some mood music]]

"There were six o' us to start with. We were all bushwhackers in the war, hunting Rebs north o' the Missouri river. Fought as part of the Federal troops tryin' to take back St. Louis, we were. Then the war ended. We were rounded up and sent across the border, Missouri still in Rebel hands. Wound up in fuckin' Chicago. Chicago! Home of stinking meat plants and canneries! My father fought for Lincoln, and so did I when I came o' age. Well, Grant, Lincoln was in the ground when I was just a wee lad..."

He shakes himself. "Anyways, the old unit was in Chicago when we get this telegram from the Governor o' Texas. Some bullshit parade thing he wanted us to attend as a 'sign o' the changin' times.' Heal past wounds, he said. Well, Bill--that would be Sgt. Bill Akers, God rest him--Bill said we should go, only we should jump the train, find a place to hole up, go out and ride ta glory!"

Danny sighs. "Stupid fuckin' thing. Stupid, stupid, stupid. What were the six o' us to do? Restart the whole Civil War again? But it sounded so good at the time...not a one o' us done well for themselves in the months since the ceasefire was announced, and if we could strike a major blow against the goddamn Rebs right in the heart o' Texas, we thought we'd be legends."

"So we grabbed our gear, ditched the train before it got to Victoria, thought we'd find a place to stock up or a farm t' raid. What we found was a hole in the ground. Old mine by a creek bed, with a herd o' cattle grazin' nearby. We shot ourselves a steer, cooked it, had a fine meal--and then this fuckin' red giant dropped on our camp like the fist o' God, and we were swarmed by all the buzzards that devil doctor keeps on as ranch hands. We put up a mighty fight but...we were cornered. An ambusher's worst fear is bein' ambushed himself, and that was us. We fled into the cave...into somethin' horrible. There were bones..."

He stops suddenly, shivering. "Unearthly thing. Boney monster. It was either face that thing or surrender to the murderous vultures at the cave mouth. It nearly got Johnny...broke his fuckin' leg before we pulled him back. And that was it. We trudged on back, threw down our arms as prisoners o' war. But by God! If you'd seen the thing, you'd have thrown down your guns too!"

He shudders, and begins to sob. Eventually, he collects himself and continues. "The bastards locked us in a tiny shed on the devil doctor's property. Tiny thing, hardly any room to sit, and not even a fuckin' pot to piss in. By day we'd bake. By night we'd freeze. Hardly any food. And the noise! You couldn't sleep because of the wail. It was comin' from the barn, that awful wailin'. The screams of the damned being baked in Blazes, it was. We didn't know what it was. But we learned. Oh yes, we learned..."

A coughing fit racks his body. It leaves him gasping and retching.

Once he recovers, he continues. "Three days we were locked there, with no food and no shitter. Then the devil doctor himself comes out to us, tells us we have a choice. He can hand us over to the law, he says, in which case we'll be hung as cattle thieves, or we can work off our debt to him for the cow we slaughtered. Bill wanted to tell him to fuck off, but we were promised decent treatment, and Johnny's leg was in a bad way, so we said yes."

"Decent treatment. HA!" He spits, then, remembering he's in church, immediately bends to wipe it up on his sleeve. "Ugh. Anyway, yes, Johnny's leg was looked at, and yes, we were fed, but that was it. We were still stuffed into the shed after a day's 'work.' And as for the work...he had us pulling out the Rock. The Ghost Rock. Down in that damn mine there's a seam o' Ghost Rock, near the place where the old mine caved in. Could get larger further in, I can't tell. Have to clear away the blockage, an' that's where the bone thing lurks. But anyway, that's what caused the wail. Burnin' Ghost Rock. The devil doctor is doing something with the Rock in that barn."

"That's what we dug up, day in and day out. We were hungry, and tired, and Johnny's leg was acting up...and we started to get sick. One by one, we all caught it. Miner's lung. Rock Fever. Sgt. Bill began quoting bible verses every chance he got. John--that would be John Brown, not Johnny with the broken leg--he kept humming that stupid abolitionist song, thought it was funny 'cause it had his name in. Warren just stared at the wall all day, and I couldn't breathe from coughing my guts out. We knew...we knew we had to get out while we still could. We made plans. Hid tools. hid a bit of Ghost Rock, for proof. When sundown came, we made our escape. Took down the guard and headed out."

He shakes his head sadly. "We weren't fast enough. We were chased some. Only had one gun between us, and that was empty. John Brown was shot in the back. He fell, out on the prairie. Warren collapsed in the creek...dead from the Fever. Johnny's leg...well, we kept him going as best we could, but at the crossroads we knew we had to split up. Sun was going down and there was a storm coming...Bill said that if we split, some of us might make it back to civilization. I took Johnny with me. Bill went one way, Mike another. The horses were coming, and Johnny...I couldn't carry him any further, and he was half-dead and out o' his mind with fever...I...I..." He begins to weep. "Jesus lord forgive me, I dropped him. I left him to die."

Then, in a startling, unnatural voice: "And that was when this vessel, tainted with sin, was chosen to carry the spirit forth."

He continues, apparently not aware of what he just said. "I climbed to the top of the hill, but my strength was gone. The riders found Johnny...but something stopped them. I don't know why, but they turned away. They didn't find me. I lay in the grass...the storm broke...i faded off to sleep..."

He stops, and coughs.

"I think..." he says, blinking back more tears, "I think that was when I died. I had this terrible dream..." He stops, shivers.

"Anyway. In the morning, I woke. I felt...better. Almost whole again. The sickness was still there but...manageable. I wandered. For hours I walked down the road, until I heard a stage coach coming toward me. I thought...I had this mad idea to hold it up with my empty pistol, scare folk out of it, steal a horse and get the hell away."

He looks up at Wildcat. "And then I found myself back here, in this hellpit o' a town."
This message was last edited by the player at 05:03, Fri 23 Sept 2011.

Wildcat is very disturbed by that voice.  I might have ta put this one down.  She thinks grimly.  Katrina hoped it wouldn't come to that however.  Then she thought of the vampiress who had attacked Mr. Mickle-fwate, Katrina had tried to save her too, and heart sank.

"Ah don't rightly know if'n this Ward thought he was doin' ya'll some kind of favor or not... no... ah have a hard time givin' him th' benefit of th' doubt on this one.  Give ya'll to the law... there ain't no law here he's done seen to that.  Ah give Marshal Evans a heap big respect fer not ridin' out of here th' insant ah showed up, but wheth'r by design or out of ig-nertness he ain't got no account'bility to no one else."

Wildcat's eyes wander back to Jesse.

"Ya'll done got a funny notion of freedom 'round here.  Freedom ain't ya'll do whatever the hell ya'll want an' damn everyone else 'cause ya'll think they're a sorry lot, freedom means ya do whatever the hell ya want lessen it makes a damn mess someone else has gotta clean up.  Ward was willin' ta exploit those men, take advantage of them.  He had no right, they shoulda been turned over to someone who could at least poss'bly be neutral."

Wildcat looks back at the recently released Yankee.

"Ya might not even have swung, there's plenty of our boys still on th' other side of the line bein' helt up in prisons 'n God knows what else.  Now that Lincoln's been a dead a good while there's occassionally a chance to swap.  Ain't a good chance that woulda happened, but it were a poss'bility.

"Ah ain't gonna lie to you now, you ain't in a good way, any dumbass could see that.  But way I look at it, you just done cooperated and improved yer lot.  Ya done said it yerself partner, times really have changed, who you were before, gotta let it go and make the most of this.  Cooperatin' wit' me is best shot you got."

Wilcat segues seamlessly back to Jesse.

"Cause sooner or later, whether th' Adders want to admit it or not, this situation is gonna get dealt with by outsiders.  It might only happen after Ward sets the apocalypse upon us, but it will happen.  This is spiraling out of control.  Next time someone comes it ain't gonna be one bad ol' Ranger they won't listen to cause they think they can knock one Ranger 'round, it's gonna be th' army, or mebbe God's own angels.  Now ah don't think neither of us wants ta see that happen.  Hell I don't think th' former Yankee here wants ta get caught up in that mess neither."

With a slight frown Charging Bear put the pieces together. The union private with the broken ankle that he and Jack Twofeather had gotten found dead and later gotten up and attacked Frost and company was one of Danny's friends. Then came that voice, which caused Charging Bear shivered.

He looked to Wildkitten as though he knew what was going through her mind, they would have to put down Danny Boy sooner rather than later.

Jake hung his head and kissed his rosary; he walked the length of the church and knelt at the alter. He muttered a prayer, "Forgive me father for I have sinned. I have made deals with darker creatures to help fight against them. I fear for my soul but know no other way. Give me strength and guidance in this trouble time as you have in the past. Amen." After he crossed himself, Jake rose and looked back over the room tears forming in his eyes.

Jesse, standing near the holy water basin, spits at Wildcat's words.

"Y'all just like leapin' to his defense, don'tcha? As if that story he done fed you was worth more than a hill o' corn and beans! That son of a bitch there an' his boys ain't nothin' more than low-down rustlers an' claim jumpers! Let me tell you the real story o' what happened!"

"Ward's ranch is big. Several hundred square miles o' territory. Lots o' places to hide fer a spell. We found several of the herd missin', and went lookin' for the dirty rustlers what took 'em. Eventually we found 'em camped out at the old mine, and let me tell you, it weren't no ramshackle affair. They had to have been holed up there for weeks by the time we done found 'em. We confronted 'em, and Tex scared 'em all into the mineshaft, and we saw what they was doin'. Claim jumpin'. There was Ghost Rock there, hell yes! But it weren't us that was forcin' them to pull it up. They had piles o' the stuff, dug out from the spot near the cave-in what closed the mine down to begin with. We followed 'em down, and saw them fightin' that bone thing he done described." He shivers, then continues. "What he ain't tellin' you is that we saved their worthless hides from the thing. Tex done dropped down on them like a hammer, and Gus, well, Gus is tougher than an' ol' leather boot. He's the one who hauled the fella with the broken ankle out o' there, while Danny boy here was cowerin' in the corner shittin' his pants!"

"We took them to the ranch, yes, and shoved in in a shed until Ward could figure out what to do with 'em, but if they had rock Fever, they had it afore we ever done got involved. Ward said sit on 'em, wait until the circuit judge came to town before handin' them over. And sure, we took that rock, but Ward was gettin' Rock shipped to him before the vein was discovered. That vein...it could save this town! Imagine the mine open again, people flockin' here instead of slowly bleedin' away...we'd be on top o' the world, like we used to be. But these boys...they didn't take kindly to waitin'. They broke down the door and brutally beat Slim down afore shootin' him with his own gun. We gave chase, sure, but only found one o'them before that Indian," he points at Charging Bear, "got in our way. We didn't shoot noone in the back like he claims!"

The priest, who had been watching and listening but not actively taking part in any of the discussions, seemed a bit lost by all that was around him. But as he watched the haunted-looking man kneel by the altar, he knew that this, at least, was something he could help with.

"Hello, my son." he says, coming up from behind Jake as the thin man knelt. "Confession is good for the soul." The priest points towards the confessional. "Come with me. Tell me you woes."

Charging Bear gave Jesse a cold look, "I don't think I can believe that considering how kind Frost and Gus was so kind to me just before I got into town." He took several steps closer to the other man, "And if you ever call me an Indian again you, then you and I are going to have issues that I won't be able to walk away. I'm of the Cherokee people you'd best remember that."

In reply to Father William O'Rourke (msg #120):

"Perhaps when this is all done Padre... right now there are matters more pressing that my guilt-ridden soul." Jake said the other man with a nod.

He then walked to where Ranger Hawkins stood, "Sorry to interrupt this touching moment, but you and I need to have a word."

Wildcat is about to tell Jesse how it is again when she realizes somebody she'd much rather talk to is addressing her.  She also noted Charging Bear was a Chair-Oh-Key.  The thought had never occurred to her before in her life an Injun would resent being called an Injun but now was no time for novelties.

"Ya know what, either ya'll try to help us help them, or you won't.  You decide.  Deputy Bear see if you'n Deputy Clank can get him to make sense... and if'n ya get Deputy Clank ta make sense I'll put you up for a medal."

She pinches the bridge of her nose and turns away from the would be hooligans and steps aside with Deputy Lawrence.

"Touching moment is right, if'n ya mean in the stomach.  Not that I ain't glad ta see ya Deputy but if yer here very long you'll understand why the first question ah done ask is what in the devil has done gone wrong now?"

Alouette has cautiously crouched to Danny's level where he's being sad on the floor and can be heard talking to him:

"God will forgive you if you are sorry, Danny Albatross. Speak with the Shepherd-" it indicates the priest. "He will help you. The bird in your chest said it chose you when you were dying with wickedness, unshriven, to permit plus life, repentance - if y'all try to be clever at being human, alternate: being a good human, people will stop killing you. Remember your soul, Danny Albatross."

It looks up at Charging Bear as he comes over.
"Fear Not! Self told Doctor Ward not to put people in sheds any more or he would go to Hell...we should tell him not to feed his snake friend ghost rock also: if it eats all the little chicken ghosts it will get plus plus big and crush other spirits out of its plane...or fall onto this one, which would be bad."

Then points at Jesse. "Ghost rock is bad for mortals: help the cows, Jesse Hohlfeld. AUG-US-TUS dreamt many cows; there is hope in them."

The priest rests a hand on Jake's shoulder. "I would not be so sure about that. All souls are of equal importance in God's eyes, and here we have clear proof," he nods to the pair of dead boys, "of the foul things that can happen to those who die with their spirits still burdened with sin and guilt. We are, all of us, living on the knife's edge. This town needs saving, and if it must be done one soul at a time, so be it. But do not put off what you know you must do 'until there is time.' We cannot choose the hour of our passing, and you may find your time is shorter than you think. Let me help you sooner rather than later. We might not meet again in this world."

He lifts his hand from Jake, to allow him to go and speak with the ranger, but his eyes follow the huckster.

Danny frowns. "If you say so. I'm not convinced this thing did what it did to me fer me good benefit."

He moves over to the priest, though, and the priest leads him to the confessional.

Jesse, meanwhile, is just glowering. He doesn't respond to Charging Bear's comments, but his glower fades into outright befuddlement as Alouette launches into it's plea to think of the cows.

"What do cows have to do with anything? And who the hell is Augustus?"

Meanwhile, Evans heads over with the clank's outer covering, apparently intent on restoring it. He looks over at Wildcat and Jake talking, decides that whatever the current problem is he'll be hearing about it soon enough, and attempts to replace the chest plate.
This message was last edited by the GM at 09:31, Sat 24 Sept 2011.

In reply to Wildcat Hawkins (msg #123):

Jake crewed on his lip as he waited on the Ranger, the word of the padre rolling around in his head. He pushed the guilt and gloom back as he put his thoughts into words.

"Well Ranger, I don't know how much you know about the more grey areas of the world, but I've pretty good information that says you're letter never made it. That third would-be gang of assassins member - you know the fella with the long, multicolored scarf - is the one who stopped it."

Wildcat looks at the "Deputy", as she knows him, a bit confused by what he means at first about where this information came from, but the understanding of what has transpired dawns on her instantly.  While her jaw didn't drop, it visibly unhinged and the scowl was gone for perhaps the first time since she got here, showing her features were actually more pleasant and soft than initially observed.

When Pilate saw that he could prevail nothing, but that rather a tumult was made, he took water, and washed his hands before the multitude, saying, I am innocent of the blood of this just person: see ye to it.

Katrina was in her own world for a split second as she stared at her gloves, her imagination painting them crimson as if they were filled with a red humor and the leather relcutantly was absorbing the fluid.

She hadn't killed an innocent man herself, but she had resigned him to his fate without the thought she could have put into such a decision.  That stain was never coming out.  Her voice was small and still as she glanced at her outstretched hands, like someone else was talking for her.

"Mama told me story once 'bout Pilate.  Said his ghost appears 'fore a fountain every night ta wash, an he has ta keep warshing 'til the blood comes off his hands... but it never does.  Think that'll be my fate Deputy?"

Wildcat doesn't give Jake a chance to answer immediately.  Her fists clench and the spark in her eyes flares.  Her body goes taut as if in anticipation.

"Does ya know where he are?"

In reply to Alouette (msg #124):

Charging Bear's demeanor shifts as he engages Alouette, the obvious aggression and anger seem to melt away leaving a more warm caring native son. "I think we're going to have to deal with that snake spirit before this is all done. Do we need to do anything particular with these two Alouette or should the priest here be able to see to them?"

In reply to Wildcat Hawkins (msg #128):

It took Jake a moment to recall what he'd seen. "Could've been anywhere around this place." The Huckster tried to recall where the sun was in relation to what he'd seen.

OOC:
14:53, Today: Jake Lawrence rolled 3,4 using 1d8,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 3,4. Smarts.

In reply to Two dead boys (msg #126):

"The spirit bird is a bird, Danny Albatross...consumes what aetheric resonance it is fed, and seeks that as sustenance: feed it good things to build into y'all."

"Many things," Alouette responds to Jesse, carefully helping Evans put it back together. "But unidentified cow, or cows, here, have been witched...it is not good for them, or mortals consuming dairy produce. If the cow, cows were not witched, humans could use and look after her, them, plus plus longer than ghost rock. John John Smith said if greed for gold can drive men to monstrous acts greed for Ghost Rock is far far worse...greed plus ghost rock would be bad, because then mortals might burn too much. Ghost Rock burns in aether also because of the holes, so if it was all burnt too quickly the smoke could block out God, who is like, similar to, the Sun of the spirit world...then Hell would freeze over and all the demons could climb out and eat everyone."

None of this is delivered in less than its usual chirpy tones. "Advise sale of plus cows, minus ghost rock," it finishes, then addresses the other question: "AUG-US-TUS is a man of science and plus plus clever, and y'all can understand him when he talks."
The automaton considers for a moment whether that's enough description, but seeing Jesse still looks confused, adds: "He's differently alive, too, and has a singing blastative gun and a machine that can talk to cows and horses and angels but not to Pure Blooded Comanches, even the Comanche who was an owl who was sometimes a lion, which goes on as many legs as a horse."

[[witter...]]

"Jesse Hohlfeld and Danny Albatross require plus fish if they are hungry, and Danny Albatross should not go to the ranch or die again: plus damage or negative energies from fear, vengeance, hostility might cause him to eat alive people."

There's some rapid ticking and the automaton looks sharply over at Jesse. "Did Danny Albatross bite you?"

In reply to Jake Lawrence (msg #130):

Jake thinks back. The place he saw in his vision was in broad daylight. The fire he saw must only have been there to dispose of the evidence. There was sunlight...but it's cloudy and overcast outside now.

Which means that the events he witnessed in his vision must have happened at least an hour ago, possibly two, while he was searching the mining office over. If the villain he saw was heading this way, he was probably in town now.

Jake frowned slightly as he sorted through his memories. "But he could be anywhere by now. Give a me a couple of minutes, and I might be able to locate him."

In reply to Alouette (msg #131):

Jesse scowls. "Ain't non o' your business how we make our livin'. I was born a miner's son, as were most o' the boys in this town." He frowns again. "And you don't know nothin'. Ward's cows are the fattest, healthiest cows in Texas! He done managed to keep the Texas Fever away, got them big and tasty, through his experiments. There ain't no 'witchin'' going on."

He doesn't seem to know what to make of the cheery Hell-freezing-over-and-devils-climbing-out talk.



At that, both Danny and Jesse go stock still. They exchange glances from across the room.

"No sir." Jesse says, less than convincingly. "He did not bite me."

In reply to Jake Lawrence (msg #133):

In reply to Alouette (msg #131):

"So they just have to stay put, eat fish, and not die?" Charging Bear asks, an eyebrow on the verge of arching in a curious manner.

"Buisness of self equals protection of mortals, living," Alouette responds mildly. "Y'all were mining ghost rock before?"

"Witchcraft steals the luck of others," the tin can angel explains patiently, "it makes flow like, similar to, tangles in spirits of things, creatures, people: under influence of negative energies, unkindness, loss of faith, the thing tangled around may become hollow. Undead cows, alternate, comsumption of witched cows would be bad, plus plus if demons got in...self cannot lie, Jesse Hohlfeld. Doctor Ward had traces of witchcraft in his liver, high probability from witched butter. Much of Town, Texas, feels of witches..." it points at a spot nearish the altar, precisely the same (Father O'Rourke will know, if he remembers) place it was obsessing over a few days ago. "...and over there a lot. The witches are real, Jesse Hohlfeld, and they will use all Town, Texas' luck at once if not prevented: then it will be gone."

"Yes," it chirps at Charging Bear. "Minus primary: they should move about, or they will become unhappy, like in a shed." It considers. "High probability prayer would also help."

Much ticking. "Logic error, Jesse Hohlfeld...you have plus flesh; high probability did not starve, die hungry enough to devour men, women, children, pets...but you feel a bit wendigo."

[[Smarts (logic): 4]]

There's something Ward-like and stern in its tone at the next question, a suggestion that if they did they are very very naughty and very very bad.
"Did you eat the undertaker?"

It has failed to note Danny halted by the confessional.

"What? No!" Jesse blurts. "No way in hell!"

Then he looks to the floor. "But..."

"Ye shut up, ye son of a bitch!" Danny growls.

"But when I woke up, I was hungry...so very hungry..."

"Shut yer gob!" Danny shrieks, and starts running across the chapel.

"And Danny already had Nate's coffin open..."

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" Danny leaps on Jesse, and the two commence fighting once again.

Nothing good will come of this, thinks Charging Bear as he reaches down to pull the two men apart.

OOC: Fighting roll, just in case.
10:55, Today: Charging Bear rolled 1,4 using 1d8,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 1,4. Fighting.

In reply to Jake Lawrence (msg #133):

Wildcat nods her approval.  Her cobalt eye scans the room.

"Ah think ah had some bus'ness wit' th' parson whilst yer a doin'."

"Cease!" Alouette repeats, nearly pulling Evans and his screwdriver over as it moves nearer the squabble. If CB can't separate them it will try to pick Danny up and walk away a bit, since it knows it can.

Ignoring the fight, Jake walked over to a pew where he pulled his deck of cards. His eyes glazed over as he started to deal out the cards into a strange game of solitaire.

OOC: I'm a sucker for punishment!
12:36, Today: Jake Lawrence rolled 5,2 using 1d8,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 5,2. SpellCasting (Hunch).

Danny slips through Charging Bear's fingers, but isn't so lucky when Alouette gets involved. The clockwork marvel hoists Danny in the air.

While Danny is being hauled off, Jesse stands, flailing about. his hand smashes into a bowl of holy water, and the bronze basin tips over with a tremendous CRASH!. Jesse grabs for the basin and hoists it over his head, apparently intent on smashing the now-captive irishman with it...right about the time Wildcat steps in between them.

"Let me at 'im, girl." He says. "Let me at 'im."

"Ye son of a bitch! I told ye not to say anything! I told ye! Ye dumb fuckin' hick!"

"I ain't takin' no more orders from you, you walkin' sack o' shit!"

"Brainless, gutless Johnny Reb!"

"Yellow-bellied Billy Yank!"

"Horse thief!"

"Cattle rustler!"

"Torturer!"

"Murderer!"

"Cannibal!"

That last was shouted in unison. Silence falls at the word.

Wildcat, who probably (laughably) has a hand on each one of them, is stunned as well.  But she's also mad, she has had it, absolutely had it.

"What's this here 'bout canned-bulls?  Speak up pr'sently as ah reckon ah done had enuff of both ya'll right 'bout now an' ah'm liable to whoop a man's ass."

"Minus violence," Alouette chides Danny gently but firmly - rather like when Charging Bear corrects it. "It is not good for y'all." It wanders a little further and hands the skinny lad bodily to the priest.

"Not canned bulls, Texas Ranger Ranger Hawkins," it mentions in passing on its way back over to Jesse. "Cannibals. Jesse Hohlfeld was consuming clay from coffins, too, that is why he feels wendigo, but Danny Albatross did not bite him. Fear not! They did not eat the undertaker, who was not near his doors." It pauses a moment. "Danny Albatross will not stay very human if killed again."

...it carries on to Jesse before he can try to start a fight with Wildcat and Charging Bear. "Minus violence you two, also."

This close, one becomes aware that its head, however pretty, is a pointy lump of metal. It points at the nearest bench. "Sit. No more bad words. It is good and human to speak, repent, but not to make violence in House of God. Peace."
It touches Jesse on the chest, infinitely gentle.

Charging Bull remains calm in the all in all, seems he's broken up a brawl or two before. His hand did rest on his pistol but that was all. "Awful lot of negative here." The native son's eyes scan the church, just trying to get a better look at the place, and its occupations.

Alouette looks back a moment to see where the 'here' Charging Bear is looking at is, then agrees. "Yes." *ticktick* It addresses him, Evans and Wildcat.
"Think happy thoughts."

Jake doesn't hear the shouting, the recriminations, the accusations being hurled at each other by the two dead boys. He doesn't hear the bellow of the Ranger reaching her limit. In his mind there is only the cards, and through them, the hunting grounds...

The serpent man is there again, waiting. He does not look directly at Jake, but Jake can see his fanged smile in the reflection of the obsidian mirror he carries.

"You have come again for knowledge." The serpent man says. "Look, then, and see."

He holds the dark mirror up for Jake, and cloudy images form on it's surface. The images get sharper and sharper, pulling Jake in, until he's almost there inside the scene...

---

Some mood music

The giant black man swaggers through the doors of the Red Eye Saloon, blithely ignoring the sign proclaiming "No Niggers or Irish" would be permitted. He breezes up to the bar.

"A shot of whiskey, please." He says to the grizzled bartender, who glares at him.

"Ain't you seen the dang ol' sign, man?" The bartender says as he polishes a glass. "I tell you what man we don't serve your kind here so y'all might as well mosey right back out the dang ol' way you came in man."

"I did indeed see your post." The big man says. "But fear not! Though I am a man of color, I am not, nor have I ever been, a nigger. I have never served on a plantation, I do not intend to cause trouble in your establishment, and I have no designs on your womenfolk. You can serve me, secure in the knowledge that you serve the side of law and justice and not one of those folk."

The bartender looks the big man over, notices the twin huge pistols strapped to his waist, and decides to swallow whatever complaint he had. The big man's whiskey is delivered post haste.

As he's settling down to drink, however, the stench of booze and ill-temper washes over him. "Hey you!" A gruff voice, well-watered with alcohol, says. "Bounty hunter." A hand falls on the big man's shoulder. "We need to talk."

The giant sighs, and turns to face his annoyance. "Oh. It's you." he growls at the cowhand. "Haven't you caused me enough grief for one day? I'm off your place. Why disturb a man when he's drinking?"

"We gots to talk." The cowhand rumbles. "We need...you need ta come back. Collect a bounty."

"I tried that. I distinctly remember you getting in my way." The bounty hunter growls. "I also distinctly remember you chomping at the bit to have your friends do me violence. Why on Earth should i go anywhere with you now?"


"Look." the cowhand growls, the bottle in his hand sloshing as he waves. "You want to get that tinhorn still? I can help ya. But I needs ya to do something. Collect...you want a bounty, I got a bounty for you." He waves a bandaged hand, short one finger, in the bounty hunter's face. "I want you to kill the goddamn dirty sonofabitch that did this to me. I got...fifty dollars!"

The bounty hunter gives the cowhand a hard look. "You, sir, are drunk."

"Wha...? Is it not enough? I can get more...sixty! Sixty dollars for the head of that bastard!" The cowhand's voice, shaky though it was, was increasing in volume. "Sixty dollars if you done dry gulch Carl for me!"

"You are drunk." the bounty hunter says again. "And you seem to have mistaken me for some low-life gutter trash that kills for money. Let me assure you that this is not the case. As much as my job requires me to be ever armed and ready for violence, I am at the end of the day a servant of law and order. I am not some loose cannon gunslinger, leaving bodies wherever I go. And while I may have to shoot people, and occasionally kill them, that is never my first intent. The law wants to see most folk alive."

"Sixty-five!" the drunk man pleads. "It's all I got!"

"If you keep harassing me, sir, I am going to have to turn you over to the Ranger for conspiracy to commit murder." the bounty hunter growls. Then, taking pity on the man, he lays a hand on the drunk man's arm. "Look. I don't know what sort of fight lead to you getting maimed, but whatever it was, it's not worth killing over. I know you're angry. Hell, I'd be angry. But you're drunk. You aren't thinking straight, and this road you're on will lead nowhere but the gallows and a shallow grave. Go home. Sleep it off. You'll feel better in the morning."

The drunk man shrugs out of the bounty hunter's friendly grip. "Goddamn worthless nigger." he growls as he stumbles toward the exit. "Ain't no one gonna help me get my justice?"

"I'm your huckleberry," says a smiling voice near the door.

Some mood music

A tall man in a floppy hat and an outlandishly long scarf uncurls from his seat and saunters over to the drunk cowhand. "Please, tell me more."

The drunk man, nonplussed, stumbles over himself a little. "W-well, his name's Carl...quiet bastard, never figgered him for much of a threat, thought he was a friend...then he done cut my finger off...just cut it off! just like that!"

"Oh, how horrible!" The tall man says, wrapping an arm around the cowhand. "And now you want revenge?"

"Y-yeah." he stutters. "I want...I want him shot. I want him hurt, like he done to me. I want...I got fifty dollars..."

"Oh, save your money, sir!" the tall man says. "I'm pleased to help! I'll kill this fella of yours for free!"

"Y-you will?"

"Of course! However," and here the man lowers his voice conspiratorially, "I need some help myself. You see, my friends were in town and got into some trouble with that nasty marshal they have here. My friends are rotting in jail, and they're expecting me to help get them out. But I can't do it all on my own. So what do you say? Can you help me break my friends out of jail?"

"Er...um...maybe?" The drunk man clearly seems to be having second thoughts.

"Good!" The tall man chirps. "There's just one little loose end I have to take care of here first..." He whirls, but the bounty hunter is already on his feet, the stool clattering to the ground.

The pair face each other, hands hovering over their pistols.

"Well, well." The bounty hunter grins. "Thomas Baker, alias Rum Tum Tugger. I'm mighty glad to see you. I'm sure Miss Hawkins will be, too, once I stick you behind bars with the rest of your miscreant friends."

"Ah, the infamous Jericho Cantrell, would-be butcher of women and children. Decided to go after more sporting game, or is it just that the plantations wouldn't take you back?"

"You really wanna do this, son? These are the guns that took down John Wesley Hardin."

"Really? The way I heard it, you blew your cover and it's only because Hardin got his gun caught up in his suspenders that you're alive today. And wasn't it John Armstrong who pistol-whipped Hardin into submission? Really, it seems like your only accomplishment is that you're an excellent distraction."

"You sonova..." Cantrell snarled, his hand slapping leather, but he was just a hair to slow. By the time he'd cleared leather, the assassin's gun was already out, copper plating glinting in the lantern light.

{BANG!}

A trail of fire lanced through the bounty hunter's gut, and he tumbled.

"Well! That's that, I suppose." The assassin says, pulling the cowhand through the door with him. "Now, come along, my new friend. We have a jailbreak to pull!"

"Oh Jesus...oh Jesus...oh Jesus..." the cowhand mutters as he's led away.

The bounty hunter just lies there and bleeds.


This message was last edited by the player at 20:12, Wed 28 Sept 2011.

In reply to Jericho Cantrell (msg #148):

Blood was the taste in Jake's mouth as his came back from the hunting ground. Seconds had passes here but there it felt like an eternity. He knew the taste wasn't real, just his mind projecting thanks to that showdown. "Stupid..." he muttered to himself. His gaze shifted to the ranger, marshal, automaton, big injian and two prisoners as things went slightly side ways. "Course just what we need jail break, nothing ever seems to be simple round here."

To break things up and get everyone's attention, Jake whistled loudly, "Now if y'all are done pussy footin', we'd best get to that make shift jail... Rum Tum Tugger is looking to spring his friends."

Being forcibly dragged away seems to dampen the tempers of the two dead boys. Danny seems to be a bit startled to be dumped in the arms of the priest, who drags him into the confessional by his ear.

Jesse, meanwhile, seems to recoil from Alouette's touch, curling into a tiny, shivering, whimpering ball.

Evans, in the meantime, joins Jake. he frowns at Jake's cards, but only for a moment as the man speaks up. "What was that? Jailbreak?" He looks quite alarmed. "How many of the deputies are over there, Mr. Lawrence? And when was this jailbreak supposed to take place?"

"Just two, McCoy and Fuller." Jake said plainly as he gathers up the cards before him. "Give me a second..." His right hand reached into his pocket to touch the bullet he'd pulled from the gun belt of the prisoner. He took a deep breath and waited.

OOC: Mind Rider on the Male prisoner. I'll just burning the 3pps!
10:58, Today: Jake Lawrence rolled 3,2 using 1d8,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 3,2. SpellCasting (Mind Rider).
Burning a white chip to reroll that
10:58, Today: Jake Lawrence rolled 7,3 using 1d8,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 7,3. SpellCasting (Mind Rider) reroll.

PP: 7/10
This message was last edited by the player at 15:03, Thu 29 Sept 2011.

With a slight laugh Charging Bear shook his head, "If its not one thing," he waves his hand towards the two prisoners, "Its another."  the native son says as his eyes fall on Jake.

He walks over to Evans, "I'll go take a look around."

"Won't be nec'ss'ry Deputy Bear.  We'll find him easy enough if'n he's here.  He'll be a lookin' fer me."  Wildcat pipes up with grim resolve.  She was running out of cigars, but now was a good a time for one as any.  Using her Bowie knife as a cigar cutter she continued to speak.

"Ya'll signed up fer a lot when ya'll took the deputy tokens or that Marshal badge, and ah've asked ya all fer more than that even, but ya'll didn't sign up fer this.  This feller's real dangerous, and ah doubt he gives a care about the rest of ya'll, so this here's a fight ah can control  And ah can't let ya'll get sideways of him.  In fact Deputy Bear ah'm glad in hindsight whichever one of the three you had chased down 'fore done got away from ya.  Ah'd wager you actually stand a better chance against 'im 'n I do, but there ain't no need ta find out.

"Plan's real simple.  Ya'll get everyone back to th' jailhouse, sech as it is.  Ah'll go on a manhunt.  He ain't in town, we head on out ta Ward.  If he are in town, he'll get arrested or ah'll get kilt, an we'll just see from thar.  Figger if'n I get kilt, he might just leave the other two an' go collect his purse.  Hard to say with bad men, they sometimes have a curious loyalty ta one 'nother, sometimes not."

Wildcat went fishing for a match.

A smile came to Charging Bear's face as he listened to Wildkitten talk, she reminded him of Rose who also always wanting to do things on her own. "Well Ms Ranger, I hate to say it but ya a damn fool if you think I'll let you go after someone you just said might kill ya all by yourself."

The native son reaches into his pocket, producing a match, he offers to the Ranger.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:44, Thu 29 Sept 2011.

Alouette's strange dropped-coin growling can be heard distictly in the quiet moment between native and ranger. It's paying no attention to Jesse curled up at its feet, attention riveted on Jake.

*Grrrowrowrowrrowr*


[[Detect Arcana 10: looks like the Hawk is awake and then some.]]

OOC: Yep I'm "casting" magics...

Jake pulls his senses into the Hunting Grounds, finding a less dangerous manitou to deal with than the snake man. The only ones willing to deal with him, though, are the crows...despite the danger, he pulls a crow spirit towards him, engages it in a duel, and sends it flying through the sympathetic link he picked up to the man with the smooth face and hard eyes.

An image forms in his mind, of a vault serving as a jail cell...but just as things come into focus, he hears the man say "No. Get out of my head, you. You don't get to peek."

Then there is PAIN! PAIN! PAIN! as the man slaps his forehead three times, and the tenuous link snaps, sending Jake's senses flying back to his body. He comes to, hearing only an angry dog growl coming from somewhere nearby...

((OOC: McCavity gets a Spirit Roll to resist the Mind Rider.

12:47, Today: The Jellicle Gang rolled 3,16 using d8,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 3,(6+6+4)16. Magic Resistance. That's...that's quite impressive. Still, that just means that Jake's spell fails and McCavity knows someone just tried to use magic on him.

Of course, the fact that McCavity knows something about magic might give Jake some information anyway...))

A slight look of pain crossed Jake's face as he came back to himself. The growl sent Jake's hand to his pistol, but he didn't draw the weapon. Instead he looked for the source of the growl, saying to Evans "No luck Marshal, guess we'll have to find out what's happening the old fashioned way/" as he did.

The tin-can angel is standing very still, beautiful and brass-sheened and completely inhuman. It is pointing now, and there's none of its usual witter surrounding the deduction:

"Witch."

In reply to Alouette (msg #159):
Jake smiled and replied, "Automaton."

And just at that most excellent moment, there's a rapping at the church door.

Wildcat's Winchester clears its scabbard presently, but its forward momentum doesn't stop there.  It gracefully spins forward, only to be stopped by a sharp tug on the enlarged lever loop.  It settles within her grasp cocked, locked, and dare I say ready to rock.

She pins the dot between the buckhorns as she looks at the door.  "Deputy Bear, see who that is. Ain't expectin' no social call.  Everyone else spread out a bit."

"Angel," Alouette corrects, then continues: "You feel of snakes, Jake Lawrence."

It's rather alarmed by what Wildcat seems to be planning. "Do not explode penitents, churchgoers, Texas Ranger Ranger Hawkins!" It hastily patters over to the door, and unless Charging Bear stops it, tugs it open muttering about closed doors in churches and bursts out to greet the newcomer.

"Howdy! Beware the other angel!"


[[4 intimidate with a white chip to reflect the Hawk having ruffled feathers - the newcomer may feel slightly worried]]

Standing, or rather sagging, at the door is none other than Jericho Cantrell, the bounty hunter. His eyes open wide at the mechanical angel as it greets him, and he slides down the side of the door frame, leaving a trail of red as he falls. His hand is clutched over a dark stain over the belly of his shirt.

"Of...course." He grunts. Every word takes monumental effort. "Wonderful. Just...what I need...to make my day...complete...Now I've seen everything..."

He collapses at the feet of the clank.

((OOC: I think mechanical angels are the least of his worries...))
This message was last edited by the player at 07:30, Fri 30 Sept 2011.

"There is a man leaking lots," Alouette informs anyone who can't see, pushing the door back further, then looks to the assembled. "Should we fix him?"

In reply to Alouette (msg #164):

Jake tried not to laugh, but he couldn't help it. The clank actually thought it was a real angel. He laughed and laughed, almost to the point of sounding like a lunatic - if not beyond it. Abruptly he stopped, the timing of which just happened to align with the knocking at the door.

As he started to move with a hand on his pistol but Charging Bear pauses due to Alouette's moving past. "Hopefully she doesn't scare whoever it is..." he says just loud enough for Wildkitten to hear.

His eyes widen as Cantrell falls to the floor of the church. The native son moves quickly, picking up the bounty hunter and calling out, "Priest! Looks like he's been shot."

Wildcat puts the repeater away not feeling the least bit chagrined about pointing a .44-40 at Jerico Cantrell.

"This ain't no penitent churchgoer.  But he is plenty hurt.."  Wildcat moves to assist Deputy Bear.

"Cantrell!  If you die on me ah will whoop yer sorry ass!"

Jake stood up and looked at the new comer, "Thomas Baker, Rum Tum Tugger shot him... over at the Red Eye Saloon." The huckster moved to help if he could.

"Well now he's a witness.  Is there a doc in th' house?  Else some 'un fetch that damn undertaker, closest thing to a sawbones this town got.  An don't go fetchin' alone he'll need an escort.  What th' devil you laughin' at ennyhow?"

There's a flurry of activity as the giant bounty hunter is moved. He looks up, still clinging to life, and shakes his head at Wildcat.

"Ain't...nothin'...to be done, Hawkins. I been gut shot...I'm dead already. Best surgeon...in the world...couldn't help me now." he looks around at the assembled group, bewildered. "What are...ya'll...doing here, anyhow? Shouldn't you be at...the jail?"

"Shut up Cantrell.  Ah don't trust ya'll fer what ya done to Deputy Bear, who ah can now prove ain't wanted fer nothin' inc'dentally, but you ain't dyin' on me!  If ya done nothin' else good in yer life there's another little gal somewheres who ain't gonna know what life is like after yer pa has a run in with that God damned Hardin cuz of ya'll.  Never mind why we's here jus' be glad we is.  Mebbe we can use a church pew fer a stretcher, won't aggravate yer bullet wound that way."
This message was last edited by the player at 16:24, Fri 30 Sept 2011.

Charging Bear shakes his head wanting to say something snarky but thinks better of it. The native son waits for the priest and helps move Cantrell before heading out the church door towards the town's makeshift jail.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:41, Fri 30 Sept 2011.

Alouette has meanwhile taken up the broom rustled up for church-cleaning and starts poking Jake in the head and upper torso to get him away from the leaky man. The automaton goes for the unfortunate huckster like a combination of guardian angel and a butler who has just had enough.

"Avaunt! Go on, get out of here, shoo!"

[[does...that need a fighting roll? It's not trying to damage, just "protect" Cantrell...]]

Jake was trying to help but apparently the clank didn't care for him. "Stop!" he barked at the mechanical marvel. He rose as he spoke looking upon Alouette. "I'm not someone to be shoo'ed like a stray dog." He closed his hands into tight fists which caused the knuckles to pop like tiny fire crackers. As his fists opened again, a trio of ghostly cards appeared between his fingers. They lasted for a moment but Jake's touching the Hunting Grounds would probably be more than enough to send Alouette into a more frenzied mood.

Pausing to display just nets Jake some insistent bristles in the face. "No witchcraft around sick people! Until you repent, outside!"

It attempts to push him doorwards with the broom. "Sanctuary! Sanctuary!"

[[Die-wise, the Hawk fails to cause even a ripple under all its restaints, but rest assured it is cage-bashingly furious with him.]]
This message was last edited by the player at 18:29, Fri 30 Sept 2011.

"Deputy Clank!"  Wildcat called to the automaton.  It's an angel right?  Did it just call me one?  Never mind that right now Katrina.   "This man is dying in our arms!  Unless you want we should stop and take a long ass trip to bring his soul 'fore th' Lord to be judged let him see if he can help!"

The clank's head twists to regard Wildcat as sharply as a bird's, a hiss of static murmuring within its casing. It lowers the broom a moment, though it holds it like a spear, and there's a weird, inhuman grace to its poise that simply was not there before. The voice that emerges from amid the static seems weary, but with a grating edge of grief, or rage, or both. Its question is not rhetorical:

"You would save his life at the price of his soul?"

It waits.

"I think I can, I aided in some surgery in my time with the Army." Jake move to where the downed man was and started to work on the bounty hunter. The huckster had seen some nasty stuff in his time, but this was probably one of the worst wounds he'd seen. He knew he couldn't do it perfect, but he give the man a chance to live.

OOC: Alright I'm going to use 2 blue chip to help counter the nasty penalties I have. -2 for untrained and -3 from his wounds... ugh!

14:55, Today: Jake Lawrence rolled -4,3,8 using 1d4-5,1d6-5,2d6, rerolling max with rolls of 1,(6+2)8,5,3. Healing (Untrained + 2 Blue Chips).

3 + 8 = 11 which is good enough to patch 2 wounds.

In reply to Alouette (msg #179):

Wildcat looks into the dark lenses simultaneously piqued and unperturbed.

"Ah reckon when the time comes Deputy Clank, I'll answer fer it, an' a whole lot of other things 'sides.  And ah reckon if God wants him to pass on, he'll pass on.  This man's soul waits on th' Lord, not Deputy Lawrence.  So ah don't reckon th' Lord condones a murderer decidin' it was time fer him to die.  I figger he who is called I Am should make that decision."

In reply to Jake Lawrence (msg #180):

The Army Doctors made it look so easy, didn't they? As Jake begins to work on the bounty hunter, he realizes just how out of his depth he is, and with that comes the realization that he's gambling with a man's life.

But he's not alone. The priest, Father O'Rourke, joins him by the wounded man's side. "Alouette, I will watch over this man." He says, his tone brooking no argument. He also doesn't mention which man he'll be watching, instead examining the wound with the air of someone who knows what they're doing. Perhaps he served as an Army surgeon himself. "Please, fetch me some items. We need needle, thread, some clamps, and a small, sharp knife."

The two men work feverishly, using what limited supplies they have (mostly holy water from the basin and vestal linens used as bandages) to staunch the bounty hunter's wounds, keep them from going septic, and keep his blood from being poisoned by his own bowels.

After ten minutes, Father O'Rourke sighs. "I think he's through the worst of it. Yes, I beleive this man will pull through." He looks up at Jake. "We are not done yet. He's stable, but we can do more for him. If you feel you are up to the task, then we'll proceed. If not then it shall be in God's hands how well he recovers."

((OOC: Jake, you're also forgetting the -2 for not having any basic supplies at hand. Clean water and makeshift bandages, yes, but nothing to operate with such as tweezers, needle, or thread, and no knives except whatever weapons you have on you.

On the plus side, Father O'Rouke has a d6 in Healing, so that will negate the Untrained Penalty. Same net effect, but it's just lack of supplies hurting you, not lack of knowledge.

However, remember that the first Healing roll against an Incapacitated character just removes the Incapacitated effect. And you need to remove the Bleeding Out condition.

Since you blew 2 chips for the two raises, I'll rule that you and the priest working together have managed to stop him from bleeding out and gotten him among the Walking Wounded, but it'll take more work to actually heal any of his wounds. He's still within the Golden Hour, so Jake can attempt one more Healing roll, but he only gets that one roll.))
This message was last edited by the GM at 06:43, Sat 01 Oct 2011.

"...ši’alqapacun yila’..." the static murmured, fading.
Alouette then shook itself, pointed at Jake with its usual clumsiness and gave one last complaint:
"Witch. Fixing by witchcraft might keep him here forever so he could never go Home. Gus Shaw cannot go to Heaven; his soul will wear away with madness and into the snake in his chest, and he was fixed like that."

It then helped Evans (if he'd not jogged off jail/undertakerwards with Charging Bear) and Wildcat gather the requested items, since it has no idea how to find any of them on its own. The self-declared angel is currently perched crouching on the altar, trying to persuade Jesse things will be all right and to try "holy songs" since he's making a hash of trying to pray out of a combination of nerves and lack of practice.

"Deputy Clank... you ever think maybe if a man lived long enough, he might get the chance to renounced the witchery keepin' 'im alive?"  Wildcat tried to aid Alouette in searching for something useful, even her mighty Warbag, itself a magnificent blend of ladies' purse and a cowboy's kit, was of little to no help.  "Saith the LORD I will forgive their iniquity, and I will remember their sin no more."

"Self-murder is also a mortal sin, Texas Ranger Ranger Hawkins," Alouette points out mildly, looking up, then over at progress made with Cantrell.

The trimming of the altar cloth could easily be unravelled for more thread as necessary, since the priest, being ex-military, probably has a "housewife" in his coat in the sacristy and a needle to use, but the quiet ticking suggests the clank is 'thinking' about expiditing the leak-stopping process.
"Y'all could fix Cantrell plus fast with sticky - then he could keep blood in."

Charging Bear is not alone. Evans follows behind him.

"We should at least stick together, Deputy Bear. No telling what dangers we face." He says. "And besides, if I'm with you I can claim I'm escorting you somewhere, so the townsfolk don't get it into their fool heads to try and lynch you again."

The pair approach the mining office, which is very, very still. It's too quiet.

"Well." Evans mutters. "We have three options...front door, back door, and the window Alouette busted open. Which would you prefer?"

Wildcat, so concerned with keeping the clank occupied (and intrigued by its strangely coherent debating skills) so someone else could try to save Cantrell's nearly worthless life, might not notice that Charging Bear (and Marshal Evans) have departed to do the very thing she just told them not to...

11:50, Today: Wildcat Hawkins rolled 5,4 using d4,d6, rerolling max with rolls of (4+1)5,4. Notice roll.

"Dag nab it, they done went an' gone out after 'im already!"  Wildcat realizes suddenly as she makes note that Charging Bear and Marshal Evans are gone.  "Deputy Clank, ya'll done got ta promise me you'll keep... gatherin' things, there's a bad feller out there an' I got to catch up to them two 'fore he does!"

This was less Wildcat and more Katrina at the moment.  At several points in the past few days, both Charging Bear and Marshal Evans had saved her, protected her, it was a treatment she wasn't used to.  It was high time to return the favor.  She wasn't letting them out there alone with that lunatic on the prowl.

"A Bad Man wants to catch Ambrose and Called Charging Bear?" the clank probably sounds more querying than alarmed since it hasn't picked up the latter tone properly yet.

"Promise," it affirms, despite not knowing where to get things or what some of them are.

Wildcat readies her Peacemaker in case of an ambush.  "Cantrell, don't die on me, you're going to testify 'gainst that sonuvabitch!  Deputy Lawrence, someone's got to stay here and be an adult, you've done yer part catchin' this loser already."

She leaves the church, moving quickly and carefully from one piece of cover to the next.  He'd ambushed her before, she wasn't going to make easy for him this time at least.


OOC:  Wildcat is trying to follow Evans and CB, likely Rum Tum is going to the jail to bust his cronies out.

Alouette gathers Things. It gathers the other knife used on the fried fish, a bucket, a surplice, the end of the thread from the altar cloth hemming, a washer, a Bible, four candles...


[[etc. etc. unless urgently distracted/given specific requests it will continue to bring objects to the church indefinitely...please don't forget about it...]]

In reply to The Amazing Evans (msg #186):

Charging Bear smiles as Evan mentioned the trio of options, "At this point things are a little too quiet, I say window but let's walk around first."

The native son looks up at the sun as he takes in a deep breath then looks back to Evan "Shall we?" With that Charging Bear started his walk around the makeshift jail, keeping an eye out for anything that might cause suspicion.

OOC:
09:42, Today: Charging Bear rolled 5,1 using 1d6,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 5,1. Notice.

Jake sat in a church pew looking at alter the blood from the meatball surgery was still on his hand as he nodded to the Ranger as she told him to stay and look after things. The bounty hunter was apparently important. After she left he heard the movements of the automaton as it picked up everything and anything that apparently wasn't nailed down.

Jake got up and walked to where the self-proclaimed angel was busy picking up things, "Why are you doing that?" he inquired.

In reply to Charging Bear (msg #191):

The first thing Charging Bear notices, of course, is Wildcat rushing up to meet them.

The second thing he notices is that it's very quiet...if the assassins are still there, they could be waiting in ambush. But depending on how long it took Cantrell to reach the church from where he was shot, they could have had between five and ten minutes to vacate the premises. Or set up sniping positions.

The building could be empty. It could be a deathtrap.

Evans frowns. "I do not like this. I wish I had access to my room at the Grand Bull...I was working on a device last night, one which might give us something of an edge. But I don't know if I want to risk the time it would take to fetch it."

As Jake leaves, Father O'Rourke snorts. "I can still use your help here, friend." he grumbles, but he continues working regardless of what the huckster does. Some of the things Alouette brings him are actually useful...he uses one of the candles to cauterize part of the wound and sterilize a makeshift needle, and is able to use the altar cloth and the needle to stitch the wound closed.

At last, he looks at the bounty hunter. "I believe God has other plans for you today than death, sir. I've done all I can. how do you feel?"

Cantrell grunts as he sits up. He blinks in surprise. "Hot damn." he mutters. "I do believe you are a miracle worker, preacher."

The priest snorts. "Hardly. I'm just one who's been down the road you're on and knows where it leads. I would take this as a sign that you need to change your ways while you still can." he turns and smiles at Alouette. "Thank you for your help. Er..." he watches the clank pick up more random items. "Er, Alouette, thank you, but the task is done. I don't need anything else brought to me...this man's fate is in God's hands now."

((OOC: Father O'Rourke continues to work on Jericho's wounds after Jake leaves. He has a -3 penalty from the wounds themselves, and has an additional -2 from having no supplies, reduced to -1 through Alouette's efforts to "find things." That's a total of -4, so Father O'Rourke is going to spend a red chip to help reduce them.

he Stray, on behalf of Father William O'Rourke, rolled -1,-2,4 using d6-4,d6-4,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 3,2,4. Healing, Red Chip. total of 3, which isn't good enough. He spends a red chip from the GM's stash for a boost.

The Stray, on behalf of Father William O'Rourke, rolled 11 using 1d6, rerolling max with rolls of (6+5)11. Another red chip.

...that's a total of 12, for 3 wounds healed. Looks like Jericho has gone from Almost Dead Guy to back on his feet.))

OOC: You can't have more than 3 wound in Savage World, doesn't matter if a wound causes 4 or 10, when all is said and done you have 3 wounds to heal in the aftermath- the higher numbers only matter for purposes of soaking.

With Jake's healing 2 of the 3 wounds, unless there were worse modifiers than what I used, Cantrell should have only 1 wound left and should survive.

In reply to The Stray (msg #193):

"Can't have everything you want Marshal, but alittle help appears to be coming this way." Charing Bear says with a slight smirk and tilts his head towards the incoming Wildkitten. When Wildkitten arrives, he says, "Glad you decided to come join us Ranger." Looking back at the jail, he shakes his head. "Not sure of a proper move here but with there being three ways we each could take one."

He draws the tomahawk from his belt followed by the Colt.

OOC: Colt in primary hand, tomahawk in secondary for when it comes up.

OOC: And again, the first Healing Roll made against an Incapacitated Character that is Bleeding out only heals the Bleeding Out condition and the Incapacitation. It doesn't do anything to the wounds themselves.



Cantrell was only moving due to the Walking Wounded rules.

In reply to The Stray (msg #197):
OOC: I'm just not a big fan of blowing a good roll on only incap status, but yes you're 100% right.

The second rule really only applies to extras, but play on!

In reply to Jake Lawrence (msg #198):

OOC: Well, look at it this way...you did the hard work of saving his life by removing the Bleeding Out condition. He was about to die before you got involved. Removing the Incapacitated status on top of that was just a cherry on top, and made the preacher's work much easier. Without that roll, Cantrell would be singing with the heavenly choir (or playing pin-The-Tail-On-The-Damned with the devils) right now.

It became important to know if Cantrell was Walking Wounded or not. I don't have a problem applying the rule to Wild Cards as well.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:23, Mon 03 Oct 2011.

In reply to Charging Bear (msg #196):

"Ya'll think ah'd miss this, ah live for this.  A way in is also a way for th' cuss to sneak out, so ah reckon yer right.  I heered ya'll mention a winder.  Ah prob'ly ought take that 'un, you two bein' such big strappin' men 'n all."

"Self promised Texas Ranger Ranger Hawkins to keep fetching things," Alouette replies to both men.

It seems it must have been out of the church at least a couple of times whilst they were busy, since there's no other explanation for the presence of a hoe, someone's garden gnome, or the slightly confused chicken currently pecking about under the pews.

The self-declared angel addresses the priest with confidence: "God will fix him."

"Given the punishment you've withstood in the past few days, Miss Hawkins, that strikes me as slightly disingenuous. You're quite, as you say, 'strapping' yourself. But I concur that, there being three of us and three potential exits, each of us take one."

He pulls his newfangled gyromounted pistol. "I suppose, since this is my mess, I should be the one to take the front. Miss Hawkins has claimed the window, which means Charging Bear should cover the rear. I'll run interference and draw their fire."

Wildcat smirks.  "Well ah meant ah was bittier 'n you two 'n might fit through th' smaller hole better but it sounds like a plan."

In reply to Alouette (msg #201):

A smile cracked Jake's usually downtroddened face. "I see."

Charging Bear looks from Evans and Wildkitten towards the jail for a long moment as though trying to come up with a plan, then back at the pair, "Alright, give me a couple of minutes to get back there, before y'all start shooting the place up." Baring any pushback, Charging Bear head a block or so over before heading towards the rear of the jail.

"Repent," Alouette reminds Jake in passing, pattering over to hand Cantrell a small plaster saint.

In reply to Alouette (msg #206):

"For what oh angel of the lord?" Jake said with a bit of a laugh, "What do YOU think I've done that requires repentance?" He stood looking from the cross to the brass construct, "Know you anything of me? Were you watching overhead," Lifting his right hand to the sky he shook his rosery at the ceiling of the church, "as my son and wife died in my arms?" He pointed the rosary at Alouette. "I prayed and prayed, for hour, days, weeks even. And nothing, it took a loonatic scientist to cure me, but not before I had to bury them."

Cantrell looks at the plaster saint the machine handed him. He stares at it for quite a while in silence before looking up at the clank and the huckster.

"And then you done saved my life." he says to Jake. "You laid me out on the pew, reached into my guts, and pulled the bullet forth. I should be a dead man. Hell, I knew I was dead...crawled my ass here for one last confession afore I went. And then you pulled my miserable soul back from the brink."

He looks up at the cross. "You ever think that maybe, just maybe, he done did things for a reason? You think maybe you were spared their fate because he wasn't finished with you yet?"

"Witchcraft," Alouette responds evenly. It reaches to touch/gently bat the rosary, intrigued by the shine on the beads as they swing in the light. "Son, wife went to heaven; they are happy now, also safe: God shines on them. He is shiny."

It looks up at Jake, golden fingers tangled in the beads. "It is all right to be sad to be left when people go Home: mortals are. Mortals forget the Love that fought, conquered Death for them sometimes, because they read what was written and copied and changed, do not listen. If you want to go to Heaven too, you have to be a good person, not a witch. Alternate: you will never see wife, son, again." It tilts its head at him. "Do you love them, or what was buried?"

*tiktik* This seems to provoke a thought - it turns to the priest: "If something goes to heaven, is it damage?"

((OOC: Wildcat and Charging Bear, please move your posting on the Chapter 11.4 thread. Jake and Alouette, please continue posting here.))

"Don't speak of them, tin can" Jake cried out, spitting out the word like they tasted rancid. "You don't even think of my wife and boy." Then he did something he never thought he do, Jake pushed the self-proclaimed angel almost like a bully in a school yard.

OOC: IF rolls are needed
09:00, Today: Jake Lawrence rolled 1,4 using 1d4,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 1,4. Fighting.
vs parry 4 is enough to touch
09:01, Today: Jake Lawrence rolled 21 using 1d6, rerolling max with rolls of (6+6+6+3)21. Strength.
One heck of a push....

((OOC: Alouette, make a Strength or Agility roll to resist being knocked over...you have to beat Jake's 21. I'll determine what happened based on how well (or poorly) you rolled.))

[[Agility 5!]]

The clank is overburdened by Jake's shove. It falls backwards, lands roughly on the floor...

...And suddenly there is a {BOOM!}

Alouette gets up and shakes itself cautiously. "Angel," it corrects.

"Did tilting self make you feel better, Jacob Lawrence?" it asks, with no sarcasm or derision at all (not that it knows how). "If yes, self will stand near until you are minus violence, minus sad. Teritary command: catch sparrows."

It looks towards the source of the explosion, as though it can see through all the walls in the way, then at the priest. "Is someone having a legal dispute?"

Rather O'Rourke bounds up, ready to deliver a scolding...but Alouette seems unhurt by the push, so the words die unsaid.

Then there is the explosion, and Aloutte's question seems to completely stump him for a moment.

"Er, no...well...yes, I suppose that...that would be one way to describe it..."

Cantrell stands, grimacing and clutching his belly wound. "We should be out there." he says. "We ought to be hunting down them Jellicle bastards, instead of standing here yelling about the dead and buried past."

"Wait a moment now...if that's the Ranger gettin' blowed up," Jesse says, "I say we done stay out o' the way. Let her get herself kilt. Ain't our problem, and she's got it comin' for those big britches she's been wearin'."

"You're dumber than a sack of hammers, ain't ya?" Cantrell sneers. "You think you got it bad with just one ranger here? Wait until word gets out that a band of outlaws took her down. You don't know what hell is until you've seen a whole mess o' Rangers descend on a place lookin' to avenge one o' their own. They'll tear through you and your dumbass friends like a hurricane through a cardboard box!"

"And maybe they don't need to hear nothin'." Jesse growls. "Maybe they don't hear nothin' cause someone sewed your nigger lips together."

Cantrell's eyes narrow. "Are you threatenin' me, boy?"

"Seems to me you done already lost one gunfight today." Jesse spits back. "Care to make it a second?"

"ENOUGH!" Roars the preacher, stepping in between the two. "Not another ill word from either of you! Have you forgotten where you are? THIS IS THE HOUSE OF GOD!" He whirls and points a finger at Jake. "And you! You consort with powers best left undisturbed, you deny the chance to save your soul, you push around innocent creatures still learning about the world, yet have the gall to ask for pity!? For shame, sir! For shame!"

The boom got Jake's attention, the rest was a bit of a blur. Sure he knew that the trio of men were arguing about what to do but for some reason he didn't really seem to care. It was Father O'Rourke's voice that brought him back to 'reality'.

"Never claimed to be a saint Father... I use that consorting to help those that might not had another option. But you're right about my being wrong about my actions towards Alouette." Jake said quietly as he looked from the priest to the clank. "I'm sorry for the shove, my wife and son are a sensitive topic and I shouldn't have even brought them up. I have my demons to deal with which are best left between me and God." His right hand worked the rosary that hung from his wrist, a well practice motion.

"Allow them choice, Jake Lawrence," Alouette cuts in before it's addressed. "To commit witchcraft, wickedness for others gives them the guilt of your self-destruction, causes plus harm than that which ends at death. Mortals have will: this is sacred."

Noting that he wishes for at least some forgiveness, the automaton raises a hand, palm towards him, and bestows one of its patched-together blessings:
"O Lord, who hast mercy upon all, take away the sins of this man and mercifully kindle in him the fire of the Holy Spirit. Take away from him the heart of stone: give him a heart of flesh to love, adore, and delight in the Lord and Creation, and to follow in Christ's path."

"..."

"Demons should go behind you, not between you and God, Jake Lawrence," it finishes gently.

"Get behind Me, Satan. You are an offense to Me, for you are not mindful of the things of God, but the things of men.?" Jake quoted back to the tin can's simple statement.

"Yes, like that," Alouette chirps. "Say that to other demons also."

Then to the bristling Jesse: "Sit. Repent."

And to Cantrell: "Lie down. Feet of Cantrell do not have independent function - blood is required elsewhere. Texas Ranger Ranger Hawkins is not exploded," it says with strange (angelic?) certainty.

To the priest, it asks: "What is Jellicle, britches, nigger? Why are hammers plus dumb inside a sack?"

The huckster shook his head, he'd heard words like that before... from his son. Something in him wanted to just go sit down on the church pew and cry like a little baby, but he didn't as something else in him told him he didn't have time for it and there was more to do here than cry about the past.

The priest nods. "I understand. Better than you know. I wasn't always a priest, after all. But don't let your demons churn about."  He pauses while Alouette speaks it's piece. he seems amused by the clank's prayer. "Well...I suppose that sums things up well. Well done, Alouette." He lays a hand on Jake's shoulder. "The angel is right. God is waiting for you to put your demons behind you. He's waiting for you to talk with him."

When the clank moves near Jesse, he crawls as far as he can to get away from the thing's touch. "Y-y'all just keep away from now, you hear?"

When Alouette asks the priest what certain words mean, he frowns. "I don't know what a Jellicle is. Sounds like a name to me. Britches are pants...a piece of cloth to cover one's legs and rear. And nigger is  a horrible word that people should not say, especially to people of color." He shoots a glare at Jesse.

Jericho Cantrell moves over to Jake's side. He pulls on of his giant, bladed pistols. "Hey. You there." he says. "You saved my life, and I know my debts. Here." He holds the gun out, butt first. "I want you to take this. Go find the sonovabitch that nearly killed me. I wish I could go with you, but the machine is right. I'm still too busted up to fight. So I'd like you to go in my stead. Go help Miss Hawkins and the Marshal take that bastard down."

He looked at the massive weapon that Cantrell offered him and tilted his head slightly. Where have I seen that style of weapon before? his mind inquired of his memory.  Jake took the weapon from the bounty hunter and almost dropped it due to being so unaccustom to such a hefty pistol. "You just play nice with everyone else, can't say it would look too good on me if I leave and y'all just go and start shooting up the church."

As he stood,  Jake looked to the Priest, "Think you can keep order here with Alouette while I see what's going on at the jail?"

OOC:
08:09, Today: Jake Lawrence rolled 5,3 using 1d6,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 5,3. Know(Occult).
assuming the padre is okay with him leaving, Jake will go join the battle royale at the jail, but not before he hunchs the gun of course.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:23, Fri 07 Oct 2011.

In reply to Jake Lawrence (msg #223):

The preacher nods. "I may have to break out a lasso, but I think I can manage."

As far as Jake can determine, the gun is a modified LeMat pistol affixed with a bowie knife blade that acts as a bayonet instead of a shotgun bore. But the design seems based on a Texas legend about something called a Hanging Judge, a ghost of a corrupt judge that hunts down lawbreakers and murders them, hanging them from the nearest tree with their crimes carved into their foreheads for all to see. Supposedly these ghosts have guns affixed with scythes as bayonets.

((OOC: Gun stats: Modified LeMat pistol (12/24/48; 2d6+1; RoF 1; Shots 9; AP 1; Single Action), bayonet (str+d4). It's fully loaded.))

Alouette logs the new vocabulary. "What are people with no colours called?"

"Logic error, Jesse Hohlfeld: self is here, now," Alouette responds to him, then hears that the priest wants a lasso and patters off to resume the fetching of Things.

Father O'Rouke will soon find it at his side offering him a thick cord. "Self found rope," it chirps, then looks back at the tensed line behind it. "Why is it attached to the ceiling?"

David Baines didn't know what the hell to make of it all. He really wasn't. too much had happened in too little time.

He should be dead. He should be dead twice over. That psycho Ranger bitch should have filled him full of holes for the shit he'd done earlier trying to get her killed. She hadn't. And he'd helped her. Helped!

The world had gone crazy the last few days. Too many fights. Too many friends gone. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

He hauled Bill down the street, ignoring the gunfire and explosions. Let them sort it all out. Let them kill each other. He was done with it. He'd sobered up in record time, and now his head was killing him, but he was done with it. He'd nipped and pushed, and every time he'd been slapped down. Well, no more.

Dave's wounded hand throbbed, reminding him of his failures. Bill's insensible form wore on him, dragging him down. He'd had to hit Bill. He was sure the nutjob in the scarf would have killed him, like he'd done with the nigger back at the bar, or the other deputy after. So Dave had given Bill an Earp.

Now he dragged the man toward the church. Maybe he ought to do some prayin' while he was there. Seemed to have done Bill some good.

((OOC: I have the horrible suspicion Dave's mind is going to snap like a twig when he gets to the church and sees all the dead people there...))

As he took a closer look at the gun, Jake's brain pulled forth the info he though he knew and confirmed his suspicions. Without much additional thought, Jake's picked up his feet and headed towards the jail seeing as that was where the town was going boom at the moment.

As Jake hustles down the streets, he notices a stocky man in cowboy gear moving towards the church, the limp form of Deputy Bill McCoy draped over his back...and just at that moment, the chuchbell starts ringing.

Jake watched the man, debating in his head what course of action he should take. Deputy McCoy had been at the jail with him but now was being carried like a sack of potatoes towards the church. The huckster moved towards the cowboy, being sure to have his deputy badge visible. "What's going on?" he inquired.

In reply to Alouette (msg #225):

"Generally they are called white." The priest says.

He looks faintly alarmed when Alouette brings the bell to him. "That's not attached to the ceiling, it's for the..."

{BONG!}

"...church bell." he finishes.

In reply to Jake Lawrence (msg #229):

The cowboy looks at Jake, sees the deputy badge, and glares at him. "Got pistol whipped back there doin' the job you should've been, deputy. Why you here an' not there?"

Alouette's heels strike sparks off the floor as it's dragged back by the rope. Recovering its balance, it looks up, somehow conveying amazement at the magic bell-ringing properties of Ceiling Rope then over at the priest.

"Should self replace bell rope where discovered?" it inquires.

In reply to Mighty Dave (msg #231):

"I was out picking flowers," Jake said with a sarcastic tone, "What do you think I was doing? I was trying to get information to the Marshal who was at the Church, but obviously the world didn't stop for me. Hell between that bounty hunter showing up looking like ground meat and the two boy's being oh so nice, this is just another lovely example of what this great town has to offer. I'm heading now to help Evans, so how many of ém were there and what do you know?"

In reply to Alouette (msg #232):

"For now, yes," says the priest, clearly relieved to be asked. "The bells aren't to be used unless we're announcing a funeral, a call to Mass, or a meeting of all the townsfolk."

In reply to Jake Lawrence (msg #233):

"Find out fer yourself, deputy." The cowboy spits. "I got shit to do."

He bulls past, attempting to leave Jake behind...and Jake realizes he's seen this man before. Where, though?

The vision! He was the drunk cowboy in the vision, trying to hire the bounty hunter...

For an instant the huckster's eyes narrowed. "Something other than trying to kill Carl?" Jake asked, his tone was non-threating and even.

That brings the man up short. He glares at Jake again, the sort of glare that promises murder.

"I ain't got no idea what the fuck you're talking about. But if y'all wanna have a problem with me, I can oblige ya. Otherwise, stay out o' my fucking way."

"Ok," Alouette says and patters off into corner by the sacristy to replace the rope where it was hanging vertically. It vanishes into the little room a moment after, clearly still intent on fetching things.

...

After a few calm minutes, any of the assembled who have ever dealt with small children will recognise one of those busy little silences that usually indicate the cat is getting a new haircut or the artistic medium of jam on wall is being explored etc. etc.

In reply to Mighty Dave (msg #237):

As he took a moment to think,  Jake nodded slowly, "No need for that sort of thing, just an honest answer. See there are folks at the church who been shot, others who done been treated pretty rough ." He held up his hands to show he wasn't looking for a shootout. "So maybe you can understand my concern."

The man frowns, considers Jake's words, then says, "One of 'em held me at gun point, forced me to help him get in the building. Had to knock out my friend here so he wouldn't get shot. The other deputy...he weren't so lucky. Couldn't warn him in time. The one with me searched the deputies for the keys, opened the cell for his friends, then opened one o' them deposit boxes. Don't know where he got the key to that, but he started hauling dynamite out o' it, and that's when I decided to take my friend and git out. Them folks are crazy. Plumb lunatics!"

In reply to Alouette (msg #238):

While Alouette vanishes into the sacristy, the others in the room move about. Father O'Rourke re-enters the confessional, to finish taking confession from Danny Boy.

Meanwhile, Cantrell and Jesse resume their argument, though it's much subdued and less profanity-laden.

It appears that right now the clank is on it's own...a terrifying prospect for any who knew it well, which none in the church (except possibly the preacher, and he's busy) do.

Alouette reappears after a while somewhat dustier with hands full of what looks like grey wool. It holds this out to Cantrell, since he's nearest and would benefit most by it.

"Self found sticky," it announces.

In reply to Mighty Dave (msg #240):

Jake nodded slightly, as though he'd expect something as crazy as what Big Dave described, "Sounds like this all took a bit of plannin'. Get on to the church, just be careful of the clank."

In reply to Alouette (msg #242):

The big man seems noticeably disconcerted at the clank approaching him. "Er...that's...nice," he says, clearly unable to process the automaton. He glances at the "sticky."

"...are those cobwebs?"

In reply to Jake Lawrence (msg #243):

Dave shrugs. "I dunno. The guy with the scarf seemed off his rocker to me. Didn't really look like the plannin' type." He hefts Bill and nods, then pauses at the mention of the clank. "Oh, fuck. That thing's still around?"

In reply to Mighty Dave (msg #245):

"Yeah, don't think its going away anytime soon either... so just tell it you're seeking sanctuary or something like that." Jake mused to Dave.

The clank considers the bounty hunter's question. "Perhaps Father O'Rourke will know," it reasons, looking about for him, then helpfully provides some more information to aid in the identification of the substance: "Seventy percent of sixty tacks stayed in the sticky that was on the round object with the candles attached to the ceiling; high probability present sticky from behind the big cupboard consists of same substance."

It ticks a moment. "Self tried to fetch the fast brown spider friend who was there too: self told Spider Friend it was of interest to the Confederated States of America, but it went away...did y'all see it?"

In reply to Jake Lawrence (msg #246):

"Right." Dave says, and shuffles off.

There hasn't been a lot of explosions or gunfire that Jake can hear, but his help may still be needed.

In reply to Alouette (msg #247):

"Spider!?" Jesse yelps, looking around wildly. "Where!?"

Cantrell seems even more confused than he did before. "Y'all don't make much sense. And what are you, exactly? Some kind o' mad science gizmo, I bet."

Jake watched the other man leave, but didn't wait too long to get moving again.

OOC: Moving on, moving on... after missing everything.

In reply to Jake Lawrence (msg #250):

Please post an intro on the "Bullet for Rum Tum Tugger thread"...you'll likely see Evans and Adrian Vega outside, checking the door of the mining offices.

"Do not know, Jesse Hohlfeld," Alouette responds "High probability on the floor: Spider Friend ran around the floor a lot in the other place..."

It points itself out to Cantrell. "Angel," it says simply. "Name value: Alouette."
It hands him as much of the sticky as is not directly stuck to it and crouches down to look for its spider friend, since Jesse seems worried about where it is.

"Right." Cantrell says. "Sorry I asked."  He looks at the cobwebs and wipes them on his leg with disgust.

Jesse is currently looking about in barely controlled panic.

The door of the church opens. A figure crosses the threshold.

"Sanctuary!" the man says. "Sanc-"

Then he looks up at the people inside. His eyes bulge as he sees the bounty hunter.

"Well, well, well." The giant grins. "Looks what we have here."

"Huh?" Jesse looks up from his spider hunt. He grins. "Dave! Hey!"

If Dave's eyes were bulging before, now they look about ready to pop out of his skull.

"No...no way in...Oh, oh Jesus..."

Then he drops the man he was carrying over his shoulder, turns tail, and runs shrieking down the road.

"Dave?" Jesse says, following him out the door. "Hey! Wait up! It's me! It's Jesse! Dave, wait up!"

"You are forgiven," Alouette tells Cantrell, then looks up at the disturbance by the door.

"?"

It patters over to collect the new casualty, pausing to call after Dave:
"He's not Jesus, he's just differently alive!"

It tries to pick Bill up, but can't lift him.

Bill groans as Alouette nudges him, but doesn't wake. Cantrell heads over to them to assist, and the pair of them manage to pull the man inside and on to a pew.

Alouette puts the remains of the surplice used to bandage Cantrell over Bill, since that's the closest thing that resembles a sheet.

This thread is closed. Please resume posting on the "Chapter 12.1" thread.