"He's a witch!" Dutch reaffirms. "I saw it with my own eyes! Shooting green lightening from his fingertips! Him and the Yankee and the infernal machine! Sent by the Devil to destroy our poor, benighted town! They're the ones that caused all this carnage!"

With a shotgun pointed at him, Adrian didn't have to pretend to be afraid, his eyes widening. That thing could end his life before he had a chance to pull his own sidearm. I shoulda just shot him from the get go, he thought. But if wishes were wings, then pigs would fly.

As quickly as he could manage it, Adrian made for the door.

---

OOC:

If he makes it safely outside, he's going to hang out just near the outside of the entrance to where he's out of sight of the shotgun toting villain but can see the street.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:33, Mon 05 Dec 2011.

((OOC: Oh, you can make it to the door just fine...at which point you run right in to Wildcat...))

Carl, recently attacked by phantom snakes, a sewn-together man and a thing he doesn't want to think about, is in no position to laugh at green lightning. The grim look fades, however, at the rest of Dutch's claims, taking on the look of one suspicious of another's recent alcohol intake as though the man were explaining that the chaos was caused by an angry player piano and a dead fish.

He gestures down at Clem, recently shaken to or something by the machine and clearly none the worse for it, then holds up a finger incredulously as though to ask what he really thinks one deadder can do. He looks more seriously to Jake, jerking his head at the downed folk as though to ask whether they're anything to do with him. "?"

As he nearly ran into Wildcat, he lifted a hand to stop her from going in just yet.

"Mayor ain't in there, but there's a man with a shotgun prolly trained on this door and what I suspect might by an unusually itchy trigger finger. From the sound of it, the ol' Mayor's got him some backup to try to run the Marshal outta town," he finished, quickly drawing his pistol.

OOC: First let me deal with my wound
Spending a white chip to soak
07:54, Today: Jake Lawrence rolled 2,3 using 1d6,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 2,3. Soak Roll.
Well that didn't work... red chip!
07:54, Today: Jake Lawrence rolled 2,5 using 1d6,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 2,5. Soak Roll x2.
But that'll do it.

---

Jake's hand fell to the grip of his Dragoon, but he was smart enough not to draw the big pistol. "I'm not a witch, ya nitwit." His eye shift around the group, attempting to gauge how serious the whole hanging idea was. "Why don't yall just take it easy before ya get more people hurt."

Then came Carl, silent Carl with his glances, gazes and looks seemed to speak volumes to so many but unfortunately Jake just looked at the man and said, "I'm guessing you're mute."

OOC:
09:02, Today: Jake Lawrence rolled 2,4 using 1d6,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 2,4. Intimidation.

PP:5/10
This message was last edited by the player at 15:23, Mon 05 Dec 2011.

In reply to Adrian Vega (msg #266):

Wildcat smiles a sinister smile and with practiced ease makes use of tactical hairpins to move the matted lock over one ear and keep it there.  Of course this has the effect of establishing a long partial loop of blonde on her forehead as a few stands are brought over from the other side of the natural parting of her hair, but such is hardly the time for fashion.  That, and the underlying, if superficial, cut on her forehead is far more jarring as it appears half her countenance is matted in dried blood, like she's some psychopath who got hold of rouge made with cannibal's leftovers and applied it to the wrong portion of her face.

Seriously if you've ever cut your forehead the least little bit, it just looks awful, as it bleeds like a stuck pig.

"Well Dep'ty Vega, ah reckon ah don't much cotton ta' that, as ah need that there buildin' fer a shelter from a Comanche raid fer some folks who are gonna be a hell of a lot harder to organize thanks to Mayor Cowpattyferbrains.  Fort'n't'ly I done brung mah skel'ton key that opens darn near any locked door."  Wildcat patted the shotgun's receiver, but kept it safely at low ready.

"So ah reckon whoever done did that jawin' at ya wrote a warrant with their mouth that their hide cain't remit, so as the law here ah'll have ta foreclose on their sorry ass right presently."  She leaned in closer and an intense blue eye focused on Adrian.  "Mah gut tells me yer better on th' ambush than the assault, reckon?"
This message was last edited by the player at 14:34, Mon 05 Dec 2011.

"Meanin' no disrespect to yer gut, Ranger, but I like to think I'm good on both, so you just let me know where you want me to be and I'll do it," he said with a grin.

Jake gets a show of slightly bloodied teeth from the cowboy. It could be a grin.

[[You aiming to include Carl in that there ToW?

NB: rather than have things get ridiculous (and boring) with description of expression/gesture I tend to suggest/describe what the character/s Carl's "speaking" to might be able to surmise from what he's doing...e.g. with a direct nod the details'll be skipped because it'd be easy for the character to see what is nodded at and draw appropriate conclusions. More ambiguous-to-outsiders gestures like the above get more physically described...eh...what I mean is the narration won't ever tell you more than Jake could understand, though whether he does 'get' things is still up to him. I'm just saving time, not trying to magic the hinderance out of mutisim.]]

"Fan-fuckin'-tastic!" Jake said with a bitter laugh. "I didn't kill anyone here, just hit that fella over there with a chair." he points to Clem. "Now that bastard," Jake nods towards Dutch "he bout knocked my teeth out. I ain't done nothing but try to help the deranged folks of this town. Which so far has gotten me shot at, punched in the face and stomach, and a floating yankee decided to lighting thrown at me. Now top it off now I'm a friggin' witch."

Jake spits, blood is mixed with the saliva. "I just came here to pick up that automaton, not the rest of this crap." He takes the deputy star off his shirt and looks up at the rain clouds that are delivering their life giving water to the world. The rain washes the blood off his face. A second of two later he looks towards Alouette, "Hell, I shoulda just listened to my gut and turned the damn windup toy off to start with." Then Jake tosses the deputy star to Carl, "Here, enjoy. I'm gonna do what I came here to do and go home."

Carl raises an eyebrow at the tirade, but watches Jake go with no particular concern. Aside from random floating Yankees it all sounded true enough. He toes disinterestedly at the metal star part-buried in the dirt where it fell, then goes to see who all was lightninged by whoever was lightninging and if anyone's been shot.

Meanwhile, Alouette's inside the church, where it's trying to explain to Granny Bennett that Danny Albatross needs a collar and some fishes and could she be with him whilst it pulls hurt people into the sanctuary, because Ranger Hawkins said he mustn't be left alone...but that she mustn't kill him or touch his blood because that would be bad. It (fortunately) hasn't noticed Jake yet.

The rain wasn't bothering Jake, as he moved he ignored whatever the craziness was around him and made his way to the church. His eyes looked tired someone who'd been up for days but couldn't find sleep. Scanning the interior of the church, he saw the object of his travels; the  reason Dr Frost had sent him into the middle of no where Texas. A smile touched the man's lips which didn't reach his eyes. "Just got to get it back to New Orleans huh Doc." The big Dragoon was riding in his holster, but Jake slowly drew the weapon.

His gait across the church was slow and steady, as though he wasn't in a hurry but he moved with purpose. "Hey Tick-tock you got a minute?" The man's hands were behind his back and perhaps crossed.

Never having been addressed this way, the clank doesn't realise it's being talked to and only realises it has Jake's attention when it straightens to head out the door. Recalling he's only working on repenting, the clank positions itself between the witch and the shivering woman currently having her cougar-bitten arm tended to by the priest. There are other refugees from the chaos outside in here, including a rather passive Danny.

"Howdy, Jake Lawrence!" it greets him, like it didn't just see him a minute ago. "Howdy Jake Lawrence's crow friends!"

It tilts its head at him. "Are you going to repent now?"


[[ecksdee at the subject line. Pers. comm. with the Stray, I know Molly's in there, and Granny Bennett never left, but I don't know any other specifics save that folk in general are there keeping the preacher busy.]]

In reply to Adrian Vega (msg #269):

"Then let's give 'er fitty fitty odds, ah'll try comin' in through th' front 'n jawing at 'im a while, you do what ya can from th' other side.  Lord help us."

Wildcat suggested, gesturing roughly where they would each go.

"Wanna get him 'live if all poss'ble, ah'll try the talking route first ta give ya time but folks tend not listen ta me."

It seems like Evans is already there, examining those who've fallen. Most look like they'll be ok after they get some sleep. No one has been shot...most of the injuries are bumps and bruises. Some have been burned, the burn marks oddly circular. Danielle Landers was stabbed.

And Greg's up on a rooftop, looking bewildered and terrified. "Hello? H-hello? Can somebody help me? I'd really like some help down..."
This message was last edited by the player at 04:53, Tue 06 Dec 2011.

Carl bristles at Evans, but he's in better state to drag those as can't walk than he is, so he just makes sure no-one's in danger of drowning in the mud. There's a mingled fear and anger at finding Danielle out cold, but she has a pulse and Evans looks soon to see to her, so he just straightens, a stillness to his spine though the tremor's back in his fingers. Carl doesn't understand why the Ranger didn't put the little Yank down, but he certainly has no reason not to.

If John's still around he'll nod the man down towards the hall, a suggestion. The Mayor could throw up walls of paper and stone between himself and someone who had to see him and vanish at conveinience, but though it was best to keep the Ranger occupied away from folks whilst he assessed the damage - to them and morale - he didn't want her bit too bad by the Mayor's hound-dog bodyguard. She had to meet Ward at some point. First things first, though.

Corralling his scattered thoughts, the Dust Adder draws his knife and heads towards the church. Jump, Greg he thinks, but doesn't look up there.

In reply to Alouette (msg #275):

"Not particularly, God and I have come to a right nice understanding. I'd like for you to come with me so I don't feel the need to do something rather drastic." the huckster said quietly, as his eyes scanned the room.

Aside from the Clank, Father O'Rourke, and Danny Boy, there are about half a dozen people in the church, mostly women and the elderly.

An elderly lady stands  up and toddles over. "Excuse me, young man." She says to him in a quavering voice. "Could you please put your gun away? This is the House of God, and He's sent one of his angels to us. Don't want to make a bad impression, now."

Father O'Rourke, in the meantime, is approaching them, a concerned look on his face.

Jake tips his hat politely to the older lady, "As this angel and several of your good towns folks have called me witch well I'm gonna put faith in Mr Colt. Add to it I once was told that the good lord helps those who help themselves... well just consider this me helping me."

The clank consults with the ceiling, then looks to Jake. "Logic error, Jake Lawrence: God says you have not listened to a word He has spoken for a long time."

"Ranger Hawkins told self to stay in the church and be special; secondary command: move injured persons into sanctuary, collar Danny Albatross...self can come to where Jake Lawrence is at another time, after completeion of special tasks." It tilts its head at him. "What is 'drastic'?"

It does the apparently-staring-over-Jake's-shoulder thing for a second and waits attentively.

Jake smiles, "You really are like a kid aren't ya automaton?" He waves his hand slight as though to indicate that Alouette didn't actually need to answer the rhetorical question. "God and I aren't on speaking terms right now and I'd rather not have to think about him presently. So how bout you and I take amoment and talk then, tick tock? You can tell me how and why I should repent, and I'll just listen mostly."

Alouette watches the waving hand, gently correcting "-angel," when addressed.

"Okay," it chirps happily "Jake Lawrence can have many moments while self is bringing the people inside. You should sit there," it points to an empty pew away from the wounded "-and drink some Jesus, that will help." There is indeed a bottle of Communion wine about, though possibly only Jesus knows the state it's in. There's also varnish, tumbleweed, some old bones, a dead mouse and a pie, if Jake wants to partake of any of those.

"You should put that smokewagon away, you are liable to cause fear, alarm, and possibly damages." The clank advises.

Adrian nodded quietly, readied his weapon and began making his way around the building to see if he could get to a back door. He didn't know quite how this was gonna work out. Just having gotten into town and having had a rather harrowing experience on the way in, he was still feeling a little off kilter from the events of late. Nevertheless, he did his best to find another exit, keeping a sharp eye out for the Mayor, the man with the shotgun, or any more thugs the Mayor may have hired. His weapon was raised and ready, in case he should need to shoot it sooner than he had expected. It seemed like the folks around here were ready to go ahead and pull on someone even if they had peaceful intentions, so he wasn't going to make the same mistake twice.

---

OOC:

Sneak, White Chip for Reroll: 5

21:15, Today: Adrian Vega rolled 5,2 using d4,d6, rerolling max with rolls of (4+1)5,2.

Wildcat's approach however was anything but subtle.  Oh she was careful, the dynamite traps in the mining offices had taught her that lesson well, but she was not subtle.

She raised her scattergun and entered City Hall deftly.

"Texas Ranger!  Declare yerself!"

She was loud enough Vega could hear her, hopefully understand what she was trying to do, create a diversion for him.  She was also quite curious if anyone would actually answer, or she'd just get plug full of lead for her trouble.