As the Doctor went on, Augustus did his best to maintain his composure.  Though that eye twitch only got worse the more he tried to be impassive.  Perhaps more brandy would do the trick.  The last inquiry brought him up short though.  Short of breath even as his coughing once more took hold.  Covering with his handkerchief yet again, he rode out the fit while his mind whirred.  He /had/ experienced such things, but...  No.  No.  Clearing his throat after a few moments, the scientist shook his head, "Um.. No...  Not...um...no, of course not."  terribly convincing.

Dr. Ward sits back with his brandy. "Would you kindly tell me again how the ideas you had in the cave came to you? This is very pertinent to the discussion, so please...be honest."

Augustus glances around the room.  Damn that twitch., "No, they are logical scientific progression... Right?  But...  I told you so is beneath you..."  Taking another larger sip of brandy, he attempts, "I was performing simple maintenance and...noticed how to create not only greater efficiency, but to generate a more powerful sonic pulse.  It was logical scientific thought and work...  Though...it did occur to me...rather suddenly."

Dr. Ward nods. "I thought as much." he leans back, offering more brandy. "I believe, sir, that you have a muse, an aetheric entity that has attached itself to you that assists you in your creative endeavors."

What if he's right?

What if his genius is really just the whisperings of some unknown entity?

It was getting harder and harder for Augustus to find refutations for Dr. Ward's theories.  And the things he had seen.  And his sudden sparks of inspiration.  The scientist, tired and worn from these long strange days, seemed to grow somehow smaller (though not by any true measure of mass.)  Just....diminished as his long held fears seemed to be coming true.  With a twitch in his eye and a shaky hand, he offered out his glass to be refilled.  Quietly, no longer looking up, he muttered apparently to himself again, "Fraud....sham...  Yes, you were right...  Don't be rude.  I...I concede..."

Dr. Ward, caught up in his explanations, notices Augustus's sudden crestfallen nature. He frowns. "Fraud? Why, whatever makes you say that?"

The downcast scientist downs another, perhaps too large, sip and just shakes his head, "No no...I was..speaking...um...  Never mind."  Taking a deep stiffening breath, he straightens up a bit, "What does all this gave to do with the Cherokee?  Are they coming here?  Can I help in some fashion?"

"Comanche." Ward corrects gently, then continues. "It has to do with the mine. More specifically, what's buried at the heart of it. There is an aetheric entity of great power that is, for lack of a better word, 'trapped' beneath the mine, possibly where the greatest concentration of Ghost Rock lies. This entity, which calls itself Tezcatlcoatl, is trapped in a quiescent state. I have managed to contact the entity's sleeping mind, and draw some power from it for my own experiments, but I believe the Comanche intend to do much more than that. I fear they mean to wake the entity entirely, in some vain hope that it may be turned to their service. Put simply, they intend to free the Serpent and set it on the white man they despise."

Augustus' eye twitches at all that, but he decides, for the moment, not to get back into the uneasy discussion of "spirits."  Instead, he concentrates on the spirits at hand, downing more brandy.  It just dosn't seem to be fixing his problems the way everyone talks about.  "Well...  That can't be a good thing.  Ahem.  How do we intend to stop them?  Should we not be securing the mine against their...um...intentions?"

"Indeed." Ward says, and can't help but chuckle at the understatement. "Not good at all. But yes, I do intend to secure the mine against them. However, I must also make sure the townfolk are safe, and I must protect the ranch and the herd. All of these targets are valuable to the Comanche, and they may decide to strike at any of them, perhaps as a distraction to cover their attempt to reach the center of the mine. It would take them hours, perhaps days, to clear the rubble that blocks access to the deeper reaches, and I suspect they would want to keep us busy during that period. So I have called for a meeting of my fellows in the Enlightened Society of the Weeping Moon, to discuss the situation and plan a strategy of defense. And I would like very much to have you...and you, Mr. Lazarus," he says to the very quiet man beside Augustus, who had been absorbing all this talk of spirits in silence up until now, "to participate. Mr. Lazarus is a member of the lodge, but I would have to initiate you into the Society in order for you to be privy to this meeting. Are you interested?"

Twitch.

Augustus eyed the good doctor as the offer was given.  It was society he has never heard of.  But, there /were/ so many societies these days.     "I take it this....Society...studies these Aetheric entities and their attendant phenomena?  I admit...a certain...curiosity..."  He trails off, glancing to the side a moment, "I /meant/ curiosity...  Though...fear...might also be a cause...  I must know...."  His eyes, twitch and all, return to the Doctor again, "But of course, given my current...situation..  I am uncertain of my ability to meet the requirements of joining a society at any rate...  Though, of course, I would be more than happy to lend my meager expertise in whatever fashion you need. You have been a most gracious host..."  it's obvious that, given a bit of pressure, the scientist would eagerly join a group of scientific peers again.  Even one focused on hocum.

"Among other things, yes." Ward says. "Our society investigates the mystic and occult, to seek the truth behind superstition and turn those discovers to the benefit of mankind. We follow in the footsteps of such luminaries as Dr. Darius Hellstromme, Jean Eugène Robert-Houdin, or Helena Blavatsky. We are the scientists of the occult, as it were. Pioneers in the subjects of theosopy and aetheric theory. And as for you current circumstance, pay them no mind...initiation entails not commitments nor impositions on your time. Of course, I would hope that you pursue full induction into our society should your circumstances change, and I will do my utmost to assist you with your present circumstances. But for now, simply initiation is all that is required for your participation. Do you accept?"

Truth behind superstition.

It did seem a fine scientific pursuit, especially given Augustus' experiences of late.  Such knowledge and experimentation could also help him understand...other things.  Maybe, given that there might..../might/... Just be an Aetheric muse attached to him, he might just be the perfect scientist to persue the matter.  Muttering along his train of thought as usual, he adds, "Well of course...  If it is just hocum and nonsense then it hurts nothing I suppose...  Doctor Ward has been ever so helpful...  No, that would be rude..."  After a few more moments of muttering, he gives a nod, "Yes...  I accept the offer.  Thank you."

Dr. Ward nods, stands, and heads over to one of the bookcases. He selects a couple, then looks at Mr. Lazarus.

"Mr. Lazarus, I know you are not a member of this lodge, but would you be willing to perform the function of witness and Tyler for this initiation?"

"Of course!" Mr. Lazarus says. Augustus might have forgotten he was even there. "But when..."

"I shall look for your friend once the ceremony is complete. I swear upon my honor. But this must be done first."

Mr. Lazarus nods and stands next to the doorway. Dr. Ward returns to his seat, bearing his books. One of them is an almanac, the other is a thick tome with the words "The Yellow Truths" embossed on it in gold leaf. Ward opens the almanac.

"To begin with, I will need to know your birth date. To the hour, if you know it. I need this because I need to know what moon you were born under. Certain parts of this ceremony will change depending on your moon-sign."

Twitch.  Augustus gave a wary eye to all that, obviously feeling it smacked of a nit too much ju-ju or whatever they call it.  But, he had agreed to it.  Best to just get it all over with.  Secret societies did love their rituals.  He had known some Masons back in Richmond.  All sorts of rites they said.  Standing and straightening his jacket (which really fixes nothing as it has become rather scuffed and dirty), he offers, "I was born on...um....  That's strange....  Let me see....  Oh!  That's it.  February 14th, 1846.  No...  4th.  February 4th."

((OOC: Sorry it's taking me so long to get to this...It's been a busy day and I'm trying to figure out all the rigamarole involved in this))

Dr. Ward checks his almanac and nods. "Nascent moon. Interesting. I would have though Absent or Balance, but such is the way of things. You are on the cusp of Balance and Nascent, according to this."

He flips through the Yellow Truths next. "We gather from the moon's lucent bounty," he reads, "A host of harvested boons:

The Absent Moon offers wisdom and insight both forgotten and unknown.

The Horned Moon offers the spirit ways and the paths of apportation.

The Balance Moon offers judgement and the triumph of intellect over emotion.

The Nascent Moon offers silver-tongued grace.

And the Harvest Moon offers strength and prowess.

These we pledge for the betterment of men. These we pledge to use against those who occlude our goals. These we pledge to use as the stars hang low in the sky and the coarse howl of devils are heard from the hills.

A brotherhood are we! For only standing united against our opposition can we hope to attain prominence!"

He looks over at Augustus. "Raise your right hand, place your left hand over your breast, and repeat after me."

He waits for Augustus to do so.

Augustus listens to the poetic descriptions of the moon phases and his mind begins wandering down the store of knowledge he possess about the moon.  Not a great store, but a few oddments and facts.  A collection of which he begins absently muttering.  As the pledge begins and instructions are given, he places his hand over his heart and hopes he didn't miss anything terribly important.

"I, Augustus Sportswood, of my own free will and accord, in the presence of Almighty God, and this Worshipful Lodge do hereby most solemnly and sincerely promise and swear that I will ever conceal and never reveal any of the secrets, arts, parts, point or points of the Enlightened Society of the Weeping Moon to any person or persons whomsoever, except that it be a true and lawful brother of this Society, or an initiate thereof."

"I furthermore promise and swear, that I will stand to and abide by all laws, rules, and regulations of the Enlightened Society of the Weeping Moon as set forth in The Yellow Truths, and of the Lodge of which I may hereafter become a member, as far as the same shall come to my knowledge; and that I will ever maintain and support the Constitution, laws, and edicts of the Grand Lodge under which the same shall be holden."

"Further, that I will always aid and assist all poor, distressed, worthy Enlightened Brothers, their widows and orphans, knowing them to be such, as far as their necessities may require and my ability permit, without material injury to myself and family."

"Further, that I will keep a worthy Enlightened Brother's secrets inviolable, when communicated to and received by me as such, murder and treason excepted."

"Further, that I shall respect and accept as a worthy and equal member any person initiated into the Enlightened Society of the Weeping Moon, without exception, regardless of gender, marital status, race, religious creed, or personal beliefs."

"Further, I will not cheat, wrong, nor defraud an Enlightened Society Lodge, nor a brother of this Society, knowingly, nor supplant him in any of his laudable undertakings, but will give him due and timely notice, that he may ward off all danger. Further, that I will not knowingly strike an Enlightened Brother, or otherwise do him personal violence in anger, except in the necessary defense of my family or property, or if his actions would bring ruin to the Society as a whole."

"Further, as an initiate born under the sign of the Nascent Moon, I pledge to do my utmost to assist my fellow Moons in their endeavors, using my talents of expression and persuasion to stir others into motion and seek new avenues of expansion in line with the Enlightened Society Lodge of which I am a member."

"All this I most solemnly, sincerely promise and swear, with a firm and steady resolution to perform the same, without any hesitation, myself, until Luna herself descends from the sky to wash the world in her purifying tears, under no less penalty than that of having my body severed in two, my bowels taken from thence and burned to ashes, the ashes scattered before the four winds of heaven, that no more remembrance might be had of so vile and wicked a wretch as I would be, should I ever, knowingly, violate this my Enlightened Brother's obligation. So help me God, and keep me steadfast in the due performance of the same."

Augustus, hand over heart, repeats the oath with as much solemnity as he can muster.  However he might really feel about all the pseudo-mysticism, it is important to the Doctor and might just lead to some very interesting findings.  And, of course, connections.   These societies were always connected and he could use the support of course.  All in all, not a bad place to find himself.  Even if the trappings of it all are a bit vaudevillian.

"So help me....God...and keep me...steadfast....in...due performance of the same."

"Welcome to the Enlightened Society of the Weeping Moon, Augustus Spotswood." Ward says with a smile.

Then he turns to address Mr. Lazarus. "Now. I believe we have an unfinished matter to discuss. Please, hand me that platter." Ward points to a silver dish set next to the brandy snifter. Harry Lazarus does so. Ward, in the meantime, heads to the opposite wall, and brings forth a pitcher. He takes the platter from Mr. Lazarus, then sits down and measures out some water into the dish.

"Now for your first glimpse into the aether, Mr. Spotswood." Ward says, pulling for a small silver medallion of a five pointed star set into a circle. He pulls out the pair of spectacles athat Harry had given him before, then begins chanting in Latin, holding his pendent over the still water.

some mood music

The pendant is still at first, then begins to swing back and forth like a pendulum. A quick glance at Ward's hand reveals that he's holding it absolutely still...it's as if a phantom grip has seized the pendant itself and has begun moving it. Ward's chanting falters, and a look of consternation crosses his face, but he resumes his chant.

The water ripples, then goes perfectly still, then ripples again. In the bottom of the silver dish, shadows play as the water moves and then, impossibly, form into recognizable images! A pair of men on horseback form in the interplay of light and shadow in the bottom of the dish, like a photograph that moves. the two riders on horseback run across a plain, with a distant figure in hot pursuit. One of the riders fires a pistol, and the image ripples as the water splashes of it's own accord. The pursuing figure falls behind the horse as it takes a flying leap over a rushing creek. The image fades.

"We are in luck." Ward says. "It would appear that your companion has already mounted a successful escape, and will shortly be in Blackthorn. I shall have to dispatch some one to fetch him..."

There's a knock downstairs, which shatters everyone's concentration.

"Ah." Ward says, picking up the dish and pouring the water into a nearby basin. "It begins. Mr. Spotswood, would you be so kind as to get the door? I need to make this space ready for your guests."

Augustus smiled and politely thanked in recognition of his acceptance into the Society.  Quite glad the mysticism was over and they could get back to science.  Nodding politely to Mr. Lazarus, who he had quite forgotten about, he followed the pair over to the table.  Observing the pendant and the platter, Augustus was just about to ask the purpose of it all when the chanting began.  "More?  Yes I know he said that their purpose was to see the science behind the magical...but...  Chanting...  Oh hush, I do not chant while I work.  Talking to yourself is different...  It helps me think...."  Once more though, his thought train is derailed as imagery becomes visible in the surface.  Without thinking, he kneeled down to examine the underside of the table to determine how the trick is done.  But, for the moment, no simple solution to its working presents itself.  About to ask, he is interrupted by the request, "Oh?  Yes...of course..."  Still trying to think it through he sees to the door.

Augustus, his head still on the demonstration, opens the door and finds himself face-to-face with a dapper but rail-thin man with wavy raven-dark hair, a bushy mustache, and an intense green stare. He looks a lot like an undertaker, despite his gray suit. He's handsome, but there's something...off about him. Perhaps it's the ponderous tome he has clutched beneath one arm, or the handkerchief he has pushed under his nose, a handkerchief soaked with blood. Or it may be the way he limps, with obvious bullet holes in the knees of his otherwise pristine suit.

"Wha!?" The man crows in surprise at seeing Augustus standing in front of him. "Who ba debil ah ou!?" His voice is muffled to near incomprehensibility by the kerchief he has stuffed under his nose. "Wha's ba nigge? Wha's Ward?"

Augustus was quite taken aback by the brusque manner of the guest.  Not to mention the tatterdemalion appearance ( not that Augustus was doing much better).  Self-consciously, he straightens his jacket, "I am Augustus Spotswood, sir.  Guest of /Doctor/ Ward.  I suppose you are expected...."  He motions off towards the library wherein Dr. Ward awaits.  Then something seems o register, "My God, man!  You are bleeding!  Have you been shot?  Come in!"  Louder now, back towards the library, "Doctor!  This man is injured!"

"Yu powa u obserbation id truly astoundib." The man grumbles as he limps toward the stairs. "Bordeib ahn clairboyant."

Ward appears, black medical bag in one hand, a concerned look on his face. The concern melts away, to be replaced by a curious wry grin. "Why, Mr. Whateley!" Ward says, voice dripping with mock concern. "Whatever happened to you?"

"Ward, you sob ub a bitch!" Whateley growls. "Look whad your ibdiot errand boy dib to meh!"

"Why, whatever did you do to provoke him so?" Ward asked, clearly grinning now at the man's discomfort.

"Nothinb!" Whateley growls. "I dismisseb hib an he trew a boog in mah face! Then Marsha Ebans shot me in buh knees!"

The grin vanishes. Ward scowls at Whateley. "And why, pray tell, did the Marshal get involved in this?"

"He'z gone berzerg! Dat's why!" Whateley screams. Blood pours down his face as he removed the kerchief to yell at Ward. "He and that Ranger bitch are stirring up the whole town! Glenn's there, trying to put a lid on things, but it's total anarchy right now! I warned you about Evans, Dexter! I told you he wasn't to be trusted, and now he's whipping up a mob! Probably going to storm the ranch at any moment!"