In reply to Alouette (msg #284):

Jake chuckles quietly and takes a seat. He eyes the communion wine but doesn't partake - perhaps some of his Catholic upbringing remains intact. His Colt he keeps out however, laying the big pistol on his lap as he watches the people come and go in the church.

"Howdy, Carl!" the automaton addresses the wrangler, now it can see him properly with Jake no longer standing in front.

Carl, who had been leaning against the doorpost, quietly trying to breathe with as little pain as possible and scanning the room, looks at the thing. His gaze flicks to Jake and then to Granny Bennett - he takes his hat off on seeing her and almost apologetically indicates Danny with his knife. Thing needs killin'.

In reply to Adrian Vega (msg #285):

Adrian's sneaking along nicely when an evil, treasonous idea starts worming it's way through his head. Why is he helping the lawdog arrest the mayor? Shouldn't he be helping the mayor against her? A lot of what the mayor said, pompous though it was, might actually have been true...

"Alistair Milburn, ma'am." Says a voice from the far side of the room. A man slouches against the wall, a double-barreled shotgun pointed almost lazily her direction. "Most folks call me Al. And that's far enough. You ain't wanted here."

In reply to Carl Allans (msg #288):

The priest looks from Jake to Carl. He frowns and moves until he's standing between the young Irishman and the Dust Adder. He gives Carl a glare. "Please put that away, good sir. There will be no violence in here this day."

08:25, Today: Wildcat Hawkins rolled 4,1 using 1d6,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 4,1. Holy Roller Powers.

Whew, just good enough.  Boost is Novice level I do think so this just skates by.  Wildcat calls down the favor of the Lord to Boost her usual harsh tongue and up her Persuasion to something from nothing.

Wildcat closed her eyes.  What was happening to her?  This wasn't the usual, yet she was doing it without even realizing it at this point.  Her mind was afraid, for it was confused, but her soul was at ease for the first time in years.

"Come now, and let us reason together, saith the LORD."

Gently lowering the muzzle, Wildcat tried diplomacy.

"Mister Milburn, put aside yer personal 'pinyun bout yers truly fer a cotton' pickin' minnit. There's a passle of angry red Comanche gonn' come 'n tear this place asunder in hardly no time 't'all.  Yer 'good mayor' done tried to whip them folks up into a damn frenzy just ta get me in th' middle of an obvious crisis that ain't got nothin' ta do wit' me.  Do ah look like a red squaw ta ya'll?  We need this buildin' fer shelter 'n defense, we can't do that wit' you 'n him usin' it ta hole up in."

Wildcat took a step forward.

"If'n ah'm such a holy terror, don't ya think it's better ta turn me loose on them Injuns than sit here ready ta fight like an ol' dumbass?  Ya'll ain't done nothin' particularly wrong other'n point yer scattergun at me mister, an' we can chalk that up to misunderstandin' at this point."

09:04, Today: Wildcat Hawkins rolled 5,6 using 1d4+2,1d6+2, rerolling max with rolls of 3,4. Boosted Persuasion Attempt.

Al shrugs and lowers his shotgun. "Look, Ma'am. Ever since you hit town thing's have been goin' straight to hell, with shootouts and near lynchin's and you an' Evans tryin' ta arrest everyone that looks at you funny. But I get it. I really do. Ya just tryin' to do a job ya ain't built for, girl. Ain't no shame in that."

He sighs. "I ain't nothin' against ya personally. I'm just doin' my job here. It's no nevermind to me if you want to use this place as shelter when the Comanches come. But listen to me real clear. You ain't got a legal leg to stand on. Evans overstepped his authority when he illegally hired on deputies. Every arrest he made since then won't hold water in court, seein' as you didn't clamp irons on him the moment you hit town. And you ain't exactly clean o' wrongdoin' yourself. Everyone I talked to swears up and down that you were the one who drew and shot Jesse Holfield first."

"So here's how it is. The Mayor has ordered Evans' resignation, and sent a letter to your superiors demanding that you have your commission revoked and that you be tossed in jail for your crimes. He figgered you done heard about that and were whippin' the town up so you could go after him personal-like with as big a fanfare as you could muster. But I beleive you when you say the Comanches are comin'. We've been wonderin' when that particular shoe was gonna drop for some time now. You want to help, I can cotton to that. But as of right this moment your authority in Blackthorn is kaput. Evans is ordered to release all his deputies and release all prisoners arrested in the last 72 hours. Once the current situation is dealt with, you and Evans are no longer welcome in Blackthorn. A special meeting of the town council will be held to elect a new Acting Marshal, and his first order of business will be to place you and the Yankee under arrest. You're free to skip town while that's happenin'."

He sighs again. "Now I done spoke my piece. I reckon you can rail an' scream against it all you like, but I'm just the messenger."

An old familiar feeling started to creep up in Adrian's mind. It wasn't something he could put a name to, but it was something he recognized. Something he remembered, but from where he could not say. An old friend. An old enemy. He felt his willpower slacken, or did he imagine it? He felt his feet taking him on strange paths, but he might have been simply taking refuge in the shadow of a memory, the spectre of a haunting nightmare. It took everything he had to take control of himself. What in the hell is happenin' to me? he thought. I should leave Blackthorn till I figure out what's wrong with me. Don't know if I can though.  It wasn't the first time he had the thought, and it may not be the last, but there wasn't any more time for thought. Sweat dripped down his forehead as he stood stock still, his brow furrowed in concentration as he grasped at what he presumed were the last dregs of his sanity.

Carl gives the priest one of those blank, cold stares. Whatever he means to do next is swiftly interrupted by the clank, however:

"Do not do violence to Danny Albatross - he is differently alive and turning wendigo and it will make him worse. If he gets killed again he will be minus humanity and plus plus hard to prevent from devouring men, women, children, livestock and pets."

Carl looks at the clank, just confused now, though the knife is lowered.

"He needs a collar and some fishes," Alouette informs him, then asks the priest. "Could we collar him with shiny? Shiny would be better: it is like God, and has positive energies."

Carl gets fed up of the wittering at this point and goes to check on Molly. He does sheathe the knife, but he makes sure Danny sees him with it first when he notices some trace of sentience in the boy's eyes, so that the little Yank knows that as yet the reprieve is temporary.

Alouette goes to fetch people in, addressing Jake: "Witchcraft is bad because it interferes with will of mortals, which is sacred-" it vanishes out of the door mid-sentence, but will presumably soon return again to finish it.

The fancy passes, to be replaced by a strong resolve. No. No, he wouldn't let whatever this was undermine him. He was Adrian Vega, after all! This was his home! Time to put his money where his mouth was, and save the day.

Wildcat involuntarily smiled but suppressed laughter.

"Mr. Milburn, how about we done stop pointin' these scatterguns at each other like a couple 'o damn fools."

Wildcat put the weapon back in the crook of her arm.

"Ya tell a real pretty story there mister.  Now ah'm gonna tell you one.  Mah two bits worth.  Firstly, thin's here ain't as they seem.  And now... ah ain't what ah seem neither.  There's something here, it done get inta me.  But it ain't th' same as what rest of ya'll seem to got in greater or lesser amounts, it's somethin' good... somethin' pure.  That means thar's somethin' good here worth fightin' fer.  It just didn't have an out 'fore now, it needed somethin'... someone... to show itself.  It was just waitin' fer me ta stop playing stupid games in mah head.  Didn't happen cuz ah'm so special, happened 'cuz ya fight th' war wit' the soldiers ya got, not th' soldiers ya wish ya had.  Ah think it got into th' clank first, but found out th' clank's still a machine at th' end of th' day, machine can't do everythin' needs be done.

"As fer the rest, I am fearfully and wonderfully made.  Ah'm bilt as intended, lady parts 'n all, and where ah'm s'posed to be, doin' what I'm 'sposed ta be doin' no matter how terr'ble it seems or what anyone done said.  Ya'll strike princes fer equity.

"Ain't gonna find the Mayor in here am ah?  Ain't gonna ask ya where he done went, ain't that dumbass, least not tahday.  But ah ask ya this, will he stay clear of Blackthorn 'til the thunder rolls over?  Right now that's all ah really need ta know, rest can be sorted out later, whether it be a legal matter or one settled with a bullet catchin' contest."

In reply to Wildcat Hawkins (msg #297):

Alistair sets the barrel of his gun down on the floor.

"I don't know what to make o' that." He says with a shrug. "But I know this. You might be built just fine, but if you think you're actions are just an' lawful just because you're the one doin' 'em, then you're the worst kind o' zealot. When you get to thinkin' you can kill 'em all and let God sort 'em out, well, someone needs to be there to remind you what's what. Your badge and your faith in the Lord don't put you beyond reproach."

He grins. "No. You ain't. He lit on out after he gave me my marchin' orders. I except he'll stay away until he can sort things out, but don't think that don't mean he can't affect things here in town. He's got a long arm, that one. But I reckon he won't use it to try an' swat you until he gets things sorted out. Just don't go stickin' your neck out like you done before. You work with us, instead of against us, and I reckon things can get done. Until he gets back, consider me the man in charge."

In reply to Alouette (msg #295):

When Alouette arrives outside, the clank finds Evans attempting to lift up one of the fallen townsfolk, wincing as he does so. He looks worse for wear, about ready to collapse himself.

"Howdy, Ambrose!" the clank greets him, and will cheerfully help him drag the casualty indoors much as Cantrell helped it drag Bill earlier.

"-because it is what allows them to be mortals, and live." It continues to Jake when it reappears with an Evans apparently on point of collapse. "To take such will away is wickedness. Example: murder takes away all the choices anyone ever has when the person is alive. Witchcraft can be worse, because that can take away people's will for ever and ever as they knot their souls up in tangles or sell them to the Devil, who hates them."

Jake listens intently to Alouette, even nodding a couple of times as he fiddles with the rosary in his hand. "So that's all you've got to say on the subject then? Killing is bad cause it removes other's ability to choose or have free will. Witchcraft does more or less the same to the individual so but possibly forever."

"To the witch...and worse, to the witched, like when the Mayor who was a witch made all the people think they wished to attack angels, which was wrong but they all might still done believe it...also, harm is done to the place, and the spirit of the place where they live when the luck is taken and twisted away. It is like, similar to, ripples, when a vampire tumbleweed is thrown into a font."

It points over at the font as though to illustrate this (there is, indeed, a tumbleweed in there, or bits of one). "Y'all can see the bubbles minus effort, like, similar to, big works for your goals or against that you might think were good or evil if you did not talk to God, beyond yourself...but the small ripples get biggest, spread outward...then they hit the side of the font and cross others, moving all the water, which God does not prevent because he made water to be as it is, not like stones which are probably hard to drink."

In reply to Alistair Milburn (msg #298):

Wildcat's smile doesn't fade.

"Fella, question o' right or wrong aside fer th' moment, if'n th' law took in every feller with a badge who a bunch of cowboys fingered, there'd be no lawmen 't all.  But that ya dunno what to reckon means ya got the tiniest shadder of doubt ah might be tellin' th' truth.  There hath no temptation taken you but such as is common to man: but God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able; but will with the temptation also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it.

"And if'n ya wants to be in charge, ah reckon we can put ya in charge.  Ah'm glad ya brought yer Mayoral scattergun fer it."

Wildcat shifts her gaze.

"But ah'm gonna learn you how th' horse ate th' hay.  There's folks out there... reckon yer in charge.  There's folks out there... reckon th' preacher might be in charge.  Folks out there who reckon th' Dust Adders are in charge.  An bee-leeve it or not, there's still a couple folks that done reckon the Marshal and ah might be in charge.

"So momma 'n daddy ain't gonna fight none in fronta th' kids, ya hear?"

Quietly stepping in behind the man, Adrian still had his weapon raised and trained on the man. He raised his voice, which sounded a bit more gravelly than he was accustomed to, surprisingly.

"Might as well go 'head and set that thing down altogether," he said, "'less you reckon you can raise up an' spin 'fore I put you down."

Whether or not the man turned, Adrian held a look as hard as death in his eyes, which unbeknownst even to him was in fact the shadow of death itself. He didn't want to put one in the man, but he didn't want to say so neither. Didn't seem like it was a time to be jawin' when the other man just decide to do what he said and light him up. He needed to keep a clear head.

Alistair doesn't blink at the sudden interruption. He doesn't move to lay down his gun, either. He looks at Wildcat instead and cocks an eyebrow.

"Well? This your idea of 'no fightin'?' A bushwhack from behind?"

In reply to Alouette (msg #302):

"So why doesn't god stop things? Are we on a defined course or is free will the trump card that can't be gotten around?" Jake inquires, he's not really listening to much Alouette is saying, just putting pieces together to keep the clank talking.

In reply to Alistair Milburn (msg #305):

"It's all right Dep'ty Vega, ya'll stand down now.  We's playin' nice, temporary like.  Don't get so worked up mister.  Ah weren't gonna let ya'll hole up this whole buildin' ta hide th' Mayor in when we got a Comanche raid.  Ah didn't know you was gonn' listen, yer the first one since I done got here.  Ya'll darn near didn't believe me after all."

Wildcat can't suppress that smile.

"Now I ain't got much book learnin' but ah do know mah basic flanking maneuver mister.  Ah ain't heard anyone argue wit' me much yet, so ah'm gonna proceed wit' th' plan here.

"Th' first rule of warfare is deception Milburn.  The ideer's real simple, we's gonna make th' Comanche think everyone's in th' church.  anyone who can done get out probably already has.  Th' Adders is on th' move warnin' folks already ah think, ah need to talk to that quiet one... or talk at him is more accurate, it's hard ta tell what he means when he don't actually talk but ah think ah'm learning a bit ta read 'tween the lines he draws. We're done gonna hole th' people up in here, an we's gonna make it look like there ain't a soul.  Need this buildin' ta show no light outside.  Need th' inside ta be fortified 'n barricaded as much as poss'ble.

"Other'n that, it's our last line.  Ah hope if'n this works, nobody in here will be involved whatsoever.  Ya'll want be in charge, this here's most critical piece of th' whole scheme but ah need someone ta take ownership of it.  Ya follow me?"

"If y'all had an agreement not to fight, well,  I can honor that. All I know is that when I holstered my weapon on this cowpoke here a minute ago, he pointed that thing at me - so if its all the same, I ain't gonna make the same mistake twice," he said.

He leaned back up against a wall and lowered his weapon ever so slightly so that it wasn't directly pointing at the man but could be raised to shoot with even the smallest flick of his wrist.

"So, we're teaming up with Captain Mustache here to fight the Comanches? Or at least keep the townsfolk safe?"

"Ah reckon he's gonna do more oh th' latter.  Given th' sitchee-ashun, ain't it better that way Dep'ty Vega?  It's one thin' to trust a snake in th' grass to do somethin', it's quite 'nother ta rely on 'im ta watch yer back right directly.  Neither is good, but one's more dumbass than th' other."

Wildcat looks between the two of them, secretly hoping for an accord.

"I had a job to do, and I did it. You ain't gettin' an apology from me for doin' my job, Senator Sideburns." Al quips back, then turns his full attention on Wildcat.

"Now, I got a few things to say on this plan o' yours, some of my own ideas o' my own. Here's how it is..."

((OOC: I'll be continuing this conversation when I get the Chapter 13.1 thread up and going))

"Y'all are His children, not His toys-" Alouette explains, and goes out for someone else, sparking a bit.

"-if God worked for mortals rather than mortals working for God, He would not be God, who is the Infinite and Great Spirit," it continues, dragging the man whose heart it restarted in by the boots completely ignoring his protests. "He would only be a servant like the Archangel Sky Coyote, who does many things, but cannot see everything."

It clanks out again, and in a while is back with a semiconscious burns victim. "God is like, similar to, a man standing by a deep river, which is life, with rapids in, like things that hurt...and whirlpools like, similar to, the pull to witchcraft, power that causes harm because it is stolen power, and the Devil. Some mortals think it is hard to swim within reach of His hand, but swimming alone has higher probability of drowning in troubled water, alternate, going under whirlpools. Y'all don't have to move towards that safe shore, but He won't turn around an' leave you. He will help you, if you will be helped."

...and it's off again. For all the thing has the common sense of a starling nesting in a steam engine, it seems the clank has a surprisingly firm - if idiosyncratic - grip on current theology.

[[etc. etc. etc.]]