"The boom means trouble, which means it is my duty to investigate..." he says, and might have said more but suddenly...



The collision is narrowly avoided. Evans looks at Carl. "What's the matter? What's happened out there?"

Carl nudges Bill, since it was him saw the boom-related monsters the group headed for the Oriental are presently tackling, then indicates the roughed-up scientist.

"This'n came from th'Injuns," he explains, but leaves Evans to realise that means the 'Injuns' know the town's under alert and might get crafty unless confronted or attacked and drawn in. "Still set on parly?" The question is genuine, not mocking - it's no more sane now than before.

Meanwhile the automaton addresses the scientist. "Howdy, Un!"

Evans takes Bill and Dr. Franklin out of earshot of the recovering people in the pews and listens to the various tales they have to tell him.

Bill's tale of escaped prisoners and monsters makes Evans frown.

Bill's version of events:

"I was enterin' the jail when I came across the big feller, Cantrell, cursing up a storm. He tol' me that he was guardin' some prisoners when that filthy rapin' redskin jumped him. In the scuffle, one o' the prisoners escaped. He tol' me that we had to hunt down the escapee."

"What about the prisoners? Who was going to watch them?"

"Oh, Deputy Fuller was on that."

"You saw him?"

"Well, no...Cantrell tol' me that Fuller was on the job, that he'd make sure the other two bandits and the savage didn't go nowhere."

"*sigh.* All right. Then what happened?"

"We followed Jenny's trail out a bit past town...looked like she'd doubled back, leading us on a merry chase so she could go rescue her friends. We followed her trail to the Oriental Theater...didn't know why she'd head there--"

"Wait." Evans' face goes pale. "Did you say the Oriental?"

"Yeah. It was all empty except for Jenny and some other fella. When we tired to arrest them, Jenny turned, and..."

"...And she was some kind of monster? Perhaps with fangs and a penchant for blood?"

"...Yeah. How'd you--"

And Evans, of all people, is cursing up a streak in the middle of the church. He turns to Carl. "Hang the Indians. We suddenly have a much larger problem to deal with. Come on. We need to get to the Oriental now!"

Carl looks up from checking on Danielle and gives Evans three seconds of blank attention.

Then he turns and whistles to catch Alouette's attention. "Angel." He says it like it's a profession or description of an object, without awe. "Follow him. Any monsters still alive after bein' blowed up, deal with 'em," Carl figures this is what the machine is for, like a scythe is for cutting grass - sure it doesn't look much capable of demonslaying, but the first he heard of it was dragging some re-killed deadder around, so there was that. "Any got away, an' any witches, find 'em an' round 'em up out of town 'fore sunset. Take that with you." He nods at Danny.

The clank hesitates. "Ranger Hawkins said to stay here and be special," it objects. "Also Danny Albatross might run away and get killed again and get worse, because he is other people's problem when he is outside and bad at making friends."

Carl looks at the lenses, uneasy with the thing. "Ranger Hawkins is doin' like I say." As for Danny, he looks to the Marshal and mimes clipping a handcuff over a wrist. "?"

Evans looks at Carl and shakes his head. "No. Out of the question. I will not be taking the boy. Have you forgotten he just attacked a good portion of the town's population? A population we are trying to reassure? A panicky crowd that is already mistrustful of me and my deputies? The boy is a liability in this. Alouette will be problematic enough, but people don't actively hate him. Shackling myself to the boy and bringing our angel in tow would send the message that I'm about to repeat the fiasco that happened here earlier, and we'd lose what small support we still enjoy. No, the boy stays here, under the watchful eye of the priest."

He turns to the clank. "Let's go, Alouette. We have monsters to slay."

Carl snorts at the idea Evans thinks anyone might have reason to trust him or especially his deputies, but pays him no further heed, setting about organising the movement of the majority of the wounded and elderly down to the town hall. He does draw his knife when approaching Danny again, but it's just to cut a length off his rope and drop it in the font. The little Yank's gonna stay in one piece, he's gonna be tied to something.

Part of him wants to hyperventilate, curl up on the ground and generally panic at so many words after nearly fifteen years; he sections off a corner of his mind and lets it just get on with that while the rest of him moves with cool, calm assurance, like there is nothing to fear.

Alouette ticks a moment, decides it's probably safe to leave the wendigo with the room full of injured people if Ambrose says so, and happily patters after Evans.

"Should Deputy Chicken stay in reserve?" it asks, then abruptly reaches and grips Evans' arm as they reach the doorway, static sighing through its metal form:
"46 East Texas Street, Shreveport, Louisiana."

[[Alouette rolled 5,4 using d6,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 5,4. go go gadget impossible knowledge! ]]

Danny reacts to the rope like its a live snake. "No! Feck off! Get away from me!"

Evans whirls before reaching the door, storms over, and grabs Danny by the collar of his stolen shirt.

"You listen to me, you worthless, whining child!" He shouts, pinning the boy against the wall. "You had your chance to avoid this! You were given every opportunity and squandered them all, and like a gambler at the wheel you refuse to see your luck's run dry! You have gambled and lost, boy, and I will not have you sniveling because you dislike the consequences of your actions! Would you rather be dead? That can be easily arranged! Don't think for a single moment anyone here would shed a tear if Mr. Allens was to string you up from the nearest pole, gather his friends, and shoot you until you stopped twitching! And God help me, I will let him if you give any more trouble! Do you understand!?"

The room has gone quiet silent at this outburst. Evans takes a dozen deep breaths while Danny stares at him, a tear curling out of the corner of his eye. Then Evans picks up the rope and begins to tie the boy up. The marshal looks at Father O'Rourke. "He's your burden now, Father. I wash my hands of him."

Then he turns back to the door and follows. He doesn't seem to notice the question about Deputy Chicken, but the address brings him up short. "I'm sorry?" He says. "What was that?"

Carl just stands there bemused until Evans has finished: he was just going to offer the alternative of nailing the kid's feet to the floor. Since the little Yank seems to have been subdued in the wake of Evan's wrath, however, he just works swiftly to re-arrange the knots and bind Danny's wrists and, standing on the bucket, the rope-ends to the iron sconce and finally the bell-rope above it, out of reach. Danny might be surprised that the filthy Reb goes about it all with more than merely sufficient force but no deliberate cruelty.

He's tethered, and straining/grabbing/lunging on his tether might well ring the bell, but otherwise he can walk 2-3 steps, very awkwardly pick things up, stand up or just about lie down and is generally no worse off than a stalled horse.

[[Carl theorises that this reduces how close and how often anyone needs to approach the thing, and dulls the furious desire of the hogtied/tortured/entirely helpless to free themselves, since he may be leaving the lad with those who can't control him by intimidation. Also if Danny sabotages the bell rope, well, he risks having a bell fall on him.]]

Meanwhile, static hisses like surf through the clank's systems. "Remember. Strawberry blonde, hayloft, southwest of Jackson. Lip-biter, freckled breasts." The electrical murmuring fades and resurges, the voice amongst it speaking fast and urgently: "Claimed to be twenty-one, wasn't. Died in the south land, leaving your daughter with a cousin. 46 East Texas Street, Shreveport, Louisiana. The walker knew, sought to taunt you with it. The crows carry the knowledge of death. They have a secret. Beaks like spears. Survive this. Live with honour. ...her name is Amber."

...and the crackling fades; the tin-can angel steps down into the mud with a mutter of "-static error-"

As the boy is tied up, the scientist watches, squinting all the while. "Excuse me, but...having just escaped from cruel captivity, I feel compelled to ask what this man has done to deserve such ill-treatment."

Evans gives Alouette a look that would be difficult for a trained psychologist to parse, let alone a mechanical marvel still learning human interaction.

Finally he winces, and says in a pained voice, "...I really can't think about that right now. Just one more burden to worry over...if by some miracle we survive..." the rest of his words are strangled by a sob that he quickly chokes off. "No. I can't. Not now. We have work to do, Deputy Alouette. Come on."

He hurries off down the street before the machine can see the tears start streaming down his face.

Carl looks over at the half-blind Mason, considers leaving someone else to tell him, reasons the man's too close to the prisoner as it is. He straightens from checking the bonds. "Yankee rustler an' would-be murderer of women. Deserves killin'. Won't stay dead. Gits less human every time he's kilt."

By then Carl's close enough to put a hand flat on the scientist's chest and physically back him up to a safer distance with a firmness that suggests it's best to do as the cowboy says, because he is tense and clearly a hard man.

---

Alouette returns Evans' look with a look no psychologist could fathom, on account of lacking any of the necessary equipment to frown in puzzlement.

"Okay!" it chirps, and patters after him.

In reply to Carl Allans (msg #189):

The scientist bites his lip, and looks as if he might protest, but apparently decides against it. "That...sounds impossible, but the Undertaker I met heading here said much the same. Can you please explain this phenomenon to me? How are the dead rising? Is there some sort of Aetheric disturbance? Is is localized or spread among the populace? What have you noticed? I am a scientist, and I have some small experience with such matters. The more I know, the more I might be able to help. That is, after all, why I am here...your Doctor Ward sent a message to the Lodge in Austin asking for assistance on some undefined matter...I can't help but think this is what he meant."

Carl, satisfied a safe distance has been achieved and about to move past, makes sure the scientist notices his hand and points at the priest. "..."

He pauses in crossing the church with the intention set Bill helping the women, wounded and old gather ammunition components and food. Raising his head, he finds himself under the Virgin's benevolent gaze, and holds the position a few seconds. Only the small loosening of tension at his shoulders and the curl of his fingers at his sides suggest he might be praying.

Mother/Mary he's not sure if he addresses either or both, or if it matters. His heart aches for having missed her. -I can't remember my Ave, I'm sorry...if it be so willed this sorry-ass town be destroyed I guess there's little you can do aginst it, but if you could just pray for us I would sure appreciate that. Please. Please mother/Mary pray for us. Echoes whisper around his head, faint as dreaming: nunc, hora mortis nostrae, ave, amen. ...and if everything goes wrong...could you spare my horse? She don't deserve shot. None of this was an animal's fault or concern. Thank you. ...amen.

Carl knew a few things: that bones were stronger than a stob rod or willow withy; that love was stronger than bones or the kind of flesh that split at a wayward blow; that death was stronger than love, because no amount of the latter could save a life or restore a breath...but now he thought there might be something stronger than death - stronger than witchcraft, even. He hoped he was right.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:57, Mon 09 Apr 2012.

"Ouch! You got to be kidding me." Jake mutters as he brushes the thumbtacks off his side. He slowly shakes his head as he start to get up, "Lots of info but still no real way to deal with bunch of Indians coming to kill all the white people in town." After a few more minutes he steps back out into the church, hoping that everyone is still around else he's going to have to go hunt people down.

Unfortunately for Jake, no one he recognizes is in the church, save the Yankee Irishman who was the host of that lightning spirit earlier.

There's a pair of cowboys getting the wounded up and about. One of them has a deputy badge on. There's the priest, talking with an excitable fellow who is dropping ten-dollar words everywhere and pointing at the tied-up Yankee.

The marshal, the automation, and the other deputies are nowhere in sight.

Prayer completed and Bill well informed/instructed, Carl motions for the door to be propped open and picks up Charlie's woman, intending to move her to the town hall. Relative safety. She feels very light.


[[22:19, Today: Carl Allans rolled 7,2 using d8,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 7,2. pickin' up women. Reckon that means he'll think to hold the unconscious lady epic cover art style rather than over the shoulder, then.]]

Jake makes note of things and decides to see what the fuss is about with the priest and tied up fella. He walks slowly across the space as his legs are slightly shaky from adrenaline mostly.

Once Jake reaches the priest he inquires, "Excuse me gents but what's going on?"

Danielle is moved without incident. It seems like the process of getting folk to city hall is proceeding apace...though Carl might note that there's only half as many people here as he was expecting. And the sun has most certainly set by now.

Meanwhile, Jake approaches the priest and the dandy. The priest looks up.

"This gentleman," he says, trying to keep his cool, "wishes to poke and prod the poor boy tied up over there. I am trying to dissuade him."

"And I told you, I'm a scientist. I can help figure out the malady that causes the dead to rise, maybe even put a stop to it, but I need a specimen to examine!"

"The boy is not a specimen! he is a poor sinner who has had enough prodding for a lifetime! He needs care and the grace of god, not cold godless dissection!"

"I hardly think full vivisection is necessary in this case..."

"No! Absolutely not!"

Carl leaves Charlie's woman nested in what blankets they have so far, leaving her in the capable care of Mike's mother and her subordinates: tough Blackthorn women.

His skin prickles, exiting the building: the storm-darkened sky had thrown off his sense of time. On the other hand, the clouds hadn't broken to give riders the advantage of glaring setting sun and the enemy was clearly not in evidence, so the Injuns would wait for some moon to show...but might not come in West. Where was everyone, anyhow? Keep moving.

Carl grabs Stride, swings into the saddle and rides down the street to the Grand Bull. They were down to minutes now, sifting away like sand.

[[in that case Carl gets very twitchy. You want Evans/Alouette to appear in t'other thread? They've been ambling along a while now...]]

In reply to The Stray (msg #196):

Jake looks over the dandy and shakes his head, "Sorry there Doc, but I can't let you cut into this fella; you'll spook these folks even more than they already are."

"Padre, where's Evans?"

"I wouldn't do it right here of course." The scientist says. "I'd prefer some solitude while I work. Just me and the post-living individual. Oh, and some tools." he makes a gesture, one that looks like a man straightening glasses, though he's not wearing any. He frowns at his lack of spectacles. He continues  on to say, "I was called in to lend my assistance to the post-living individual issue by Dr. Ward himself, though I would very much like to consult with him before I get any serious examination started. I understand the situation with the renegades is pressing...the rude cowboy indicated as much. I can lend assistance with that, as well, as I recently had the misfortune of being a captive in their camp. But I fear the intrusion of supernatural forces may cause many more casualties unless I'm allowed to get to the bottom of this PLI problem. So you see, I simply must be allowed to conduct some experiments!"

"You'll do no such thing!" The priest yells, losing his temper. "That poor lad has been traumatized enough! He is under my personal protection!, and..."

"So find me another specimen!" The doctor replies curtly. "From what the undertaker we met indicated, the whole town is crawling with the things, or soon will be! Maybe if you wait, you'll have a whole post-living flock to look over rather than a single..."

He doesn't get to finish. Father O'Rourke throws a mighty punch in his face, and suddenly there's a scuffle right where Jake didn't need one...
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:26, Fri 13 Apr 2012.

Jake shakes his head as he thinks, I should've expected that. The huckster attempts to stop the priest from doing more harm to the dandy that he already has.

OOC: Fighting roll?
08:48, Today: Jake Lawrence rolled 1,3 using 1d4,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 1,3. Fighting.

((OOC: So, a Grapple? Alrighty. Since that's an opposed roll, let's roll fighting for the priest. He on;y has a d4, so a 3 might actually work...

09:20, Today: Father William O'Rourke rolled 6,3 using d4,d6, rerolling max with rolls of (4+2)6,3. Fighting!

What.

The funny thing is, all the characters involved in this have little or no actual combat ability, so this is starting to resembles some kind of sissy slap fight...))

The priest doesn't seem to have much in the way of fighting skill, but what he does have is enhanced with holy rage. At least, enough rage to shake Jake off and go back to knocking at the dandy.