Darla lands quite squarely on her arse, but is very quickly up to a crouching crawl, searching the corpses for the Apache.

[[Vampire Dance Hall Girl rolled 4,4 using d6,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 4,4. Notice?]]

Carmilla avoids the falling zombie-gobbets, but doesn't let go of Danny. In fact, she steps in and holds closer, voice soft by his ear. "...are we safe?"

"Don't worry, I'll be careful. I done been 'round dynamite before. Shit ain't right when it gets sweaty," he said, listening to the sudden sounds of gunfire that came from nearby.

Darla pulls the corpse pile apart, looking for Itza-chu, but there's only three corpses in the pile and a long, bloody streak leading into the graveyard.

"Er, uh, uh..." Danny stutters as the half-naked girl cozies up to him. He doesn't seem quite able to form a coherent reply.

Father O'Rourke surveys the scene. "Well. It seems we are safe, for now." he says to Jake and William. "Blessed be."

Gus and Adrian head up the street, as quickly as they can without jostling the barrel. They see a group up near the door of the chapel, and, dimly, some people picking at a pile of something over near the gates of the graveyard. Gus frowns. "Looks like we done missed the party."

"Hey!" Darla calls to the others, seeking squickly for the cleaver Carmilla dropped in her panic. "The immortal's still movin'!"

[[19:51, Today: Vampire Dance Hall Girl rolled 1,4 using d6,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 1,4. more noticement, for whatever purpose]]

Adrian felt something of a swagger in his step now that he was wandering around dressed like the Harbinger, though he let his hood down so that people would see it was him. Scythe-tipped pistols hung in the special holsters at his waist, and he still had one more gun that more properly belonged with Marshal Evans.

"I think it's a party I'm glad to have missed, Gus."

William pushes Jenny's gun back into his belt and draws his bowie knife.
"Then let's find him and chop him up. Maybe he likes spending eternity in a few pickle jars."

His eyes glow with an unholy light, reflected in the frame of his pistol - which should be empty now, but William seems unconcerned.


Selected the wrong auto-completion suggestion: It's actually +3, not -3.
So that comes out at 5 and 8.
21:09, Today: William Pierce rolled -1,2 using d6-3,d6-3, rerolling max with rolls of 2,5. Super-Notice. But one wound.

In reply to The Stray (msg # 77):

"Don't figure that'll last long," the huckster says gravely.

"We all clear?" comes a shout from down the street.

"Ain't for sure yet!" Gus hollers back. "Here. I got this." he says to Adrian as he takes the barrel and sets it down. "Look for the damn injun."

Meanwhile, Darla and William search the graveyard, but come up empty. There are a couple of disturbed graves, and the bloody trail leads to one of them, but the grave is empty. It's as if he'd vanished into thin air.

"A temporary respite is better than none at all." The reverend replies to Jake.

It's about this time that Alouette, a wounded Evans, and John Smith arrive at the church.

"Howdy Shepherd, Deputy Vega, Gus Shaw, Bitter Waters, Danny Albatross, Shredded Clothes Lady!" the clank greets those it can easily see, then presents Evans to the priest.

"Fix please! -Ambrose was sleeping in the street because he had leaked lots, but John John Smith fixed him a bit after self told the Comanches to shoo so he can walk now. Do you have an axe?"

---

In the graveyard, Darla makes a loud noise of frustration. "RRrrh! He's gone! Vanished-gone!" she calls over the wall, then swears. "Satan's balls...damn, poot'n fucklesticks. Well, thanks for helpin', sugar..."

The vampire harlot looks at William, pushing back her fall of dark hair. "Who are you, anyway?" The question comes with barely the recognition of meeting him five minutes ago.

---

"Guess it is over...thank you for bein' so brave - you're quite the hero, honey. I'm real grateful." Carmilla murmurs, tone velvety, then looks over at Alouette and frowns in confusion. "Bird...armour...thing...talks?"

William eyes the vampire whore. Hired help, Vincent had called them. He wondered if he should put her out of her misery.
"I'm the last man Marina killed. As soon as I track her down, I'll end her." he says, matter of factly, showing his fangs to the girl.
With his pistol, he points at the empty grave.
"Bastard's gone. Healed up faster than I thought. Not a mistake I intend to repeat."
He holsters his gun.
"Now, what am I to do with you?"

Darla does frown, trying to pull one evening of murder from another by the light of her low-burning life force. Something seems to surface. "Weren't...that a woman?"

The latter question gets a sensuous smile, Darla sashaying forward and dropping the cleaver as a sign of good faith, bellying up to William and seeing if he'll let her snake a pale arm around his neck.
"Why, sugar...anything you like."

William regards her like an insect. Surprising, really. Apart from the fact that she had been part of the group that killed him and Jenny, she is still a beauty. And a scantily-clad one at that. He waits for lust in him to stir, but there was nothing. He looks over Darla's shoulder, where his "friends" would be, just at the edge of his field of vision. Then he remembers that they are now much closer. Then he feels a cold presence in his mind snicker and stretch and knows that this part of his life is over.
He catches Darla's arm by her wrist - a memory flashes before him, he had done the same with Marina, had squeezed the fanged bitch's wrist a little harder than necessary in a failed -  and fatal - attempt to intimidate her. This time, he is more gentle.
"There was a girl with me, yes. She got turned, too. She's on the loose. She was a murderer before. She'll be much better at that now.
Do you know where I can find Marina? Do you know how can I kill her?"

The vampire looks at her wrist in William's grip with a faint, pretty frown, then tries to press up to him anyway. She has to be able to smell he's dead, but she just won't stop coming on to him. Or can't. Little wonder Vincent hated these things, living with them day in, day out. "We must not let harm come to the Mistress," she tells him. There's a strange sing-song quality to her voice, like a child repeating something learned by rote.

"The Mistress is as our Mother and our Light. We will end gladly for the Mistress if she...if she so..." Darla leans back, expression immobile but free hand shaking as though with great effort as it rises to pry at William's fingers, shift his grip down a little. "...commands it..." There's a nail through the girl's arm where the longbones meet, metal colder than her skin: she presses his hand to it. "...f-for we love the Mistress..ss..." The pressure brings a little blood.

"...she did so command, on the road, that way," Darla whispers, swift and pained "Injuns took us, and they...and they....but they did not take the Mistress, O, praise be, she was safe. She...ran...but she is not so far, I feel the Mistress, she is as our Mother and our warmth," the whore makes a small, hurt noise, the nail rasping against bone under their hands. "Cowboys came, before the Ranger...cut us down..." whatever she's trying to tell him runs dry, her body relaxing. "...wouldn't you rather stay here with me, sugar?"

William glances outside the cemetary, toward the church.
"Promised the priest to help out here. But Marina's still on my list. You say you feel her... why don't you stay with me. I will not abandon you, not like your mistress did."

A thought occurs to him. Marina had bound these girls to her. Would he be able to do the same? Could he break her spell or would he have to turn another human being? No, that was out of the question.

He fingers the nail embedded in her wrist.
"Want me to pull this out?"

Darla just looks confused, like there's something she wants to remember just out of reach. "...but she had to run away, or they'd have caught her..."

The offer to remove the nail brings a sudden tensing and bared teeth: just feeling the tendons at her wrist go taut it's clear she's at least as strong as he is. "No." her eyes catch the moonlight like an animal's, a moment of bright blankness before she calms down. "No...if I'm hurtin', I can think a little. We...ought to find the Ranger, to help."

[[You want them? *proffers* I warn you, Darla's got just enough self-awareness to be intermittently suicidal, Marina's programmed them loyal, and they'll probably hump your furniture: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=24czSl30EmA]]

In reply to Alouette (msg # 83):

Father O'Rourke nods. "I shall do my best." He says, and directs Alouette to bring the Marshal indoors. He begins to work, calling on the Healing power of the Lord, then bring out more traditional tweezers, bandages, and sutures. after about 20 minutes, Evans is patched up, with only a little wincing from the wounds.

"Yes!" Danny gasps, pulling away from the girl and toward the lifeline that Alouette's presence provided. "Talky bird armor! Alouette, meet...er, this girl. Girl, meet Alouette. I'll leave the two of you to chat." He stands and rushes over for William.

"Sorry t' interrupt your lover's chat," he says, "but shouldn't we be tellin' the preacher what we learned at the Lodge? That's why ye were there, right?"

((OOC: Now that the fight is over, Father O'Rourke can go to work on Evans. He gets to put his new Healer edge to work

22:13, Today: Father William O'Rourke rolled 5,1 using d8-1,d6-1, rerolling max with rolls of 6,2. Faith! That will heal 1 wound. Not a lot, but it gets him in a better position to use normal healing on Evans.

22:13, Today: Father William O'Rourke rolled 7,4 using d6,d6, rerolling max with rolls of (6+1)7,4. Healing! Almost enough to remove the last couple wounds...he adds one of the chips I got from William's card.

22:14, Today: Father William O'Rourke rolled 4 using 1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 4. red chip. There we go. Evans is right as rain again.))

In reply to The Stray (msg # 90):

"We're coming." William calls back over his shoulder towards Danny, then pulls Darla closer.
"Let's go."

"Howdy, Girl!" Alouette chirps, left with Carmilla.

The vampire looks utterly perplexed. "...my name is Carmilla," she offers, clearly having trouble with the concept of 'clank'. The two stand and look at each other for a bit before Alouette's attention is caught elsewhere and patters down towards the Town Hall.

"Howdy Town Hall, howdy Cantrell!" it announces, tilting its head to try and see the people moving about on the roof. "Fear not! Self done told the Comanches to shoo - the ones that didn't shoo are under arrest now, and we won't let them go until they're sorry. Did y'all arrest Itza-Chu?"

Darla looks up at William, her full lips just slightly parted like she's forgotten what she might have said. Then she looks towards the church (indirectly) and shifts her hold to William's waist, moving with steel surety until they get out into the less shadowed street, where her steps falter and she leans in to half-support herself on William like a human woman who's been assaulted, tortured, then somehow found the courage to get up and fight a zombie-glom.

It makes the man in black look rather heroic.

William walks past the staring Danny, Darla hugging him tight.9
"Better shut your mouth, Irish, 'less you want flies to build a nest there. Let's tell the priest."

He stops near O'Rourke. "Father, we've found some disturbing things in that mansion.
They were shipping bodies in crates there. Then did some unspeakable things to them. Reanimating was most likely the least blasphemous.
What was the name on the address label?" He asks, looking at Jake and Danny.

"And... Alouette found some notes, too." He gestures at the clank.
This message was last edited by the player at 11:40, Sat 20 Oct 2012.

"Goddamn it!" Jericho growls. "He's here!? Was that who was running up the damn street!?"

"The address didn't mean much t' me, but I heard it's supposed t' belong to a dead man. The address was Caleb Feigenbaum, 221a Barber Street." he looks for the clank...but it's not at the church. It's currently wandering down the street toward city hall. Danny pokes his head out the church door.

"Oi! You!" he shouts after the clank. "We got pen and ink here, so ye can write down that stuff ye done ate at the Lodge!"  he looks over to the preacher. "Er, we do have pen and ink here, right?"

The reverend frown. "I have not been in town long enough to know where that is, I'm afraid..."

Gus, who had been standing nearby, takes the moment to speak up. He's standing well outside the church door, leaning on the barrel bomb. "Barber Street's just up the way. Moonies built the Lodge there. 221 should be right across from it. That's were the Jew lived, I think. What's all this about, anyhow? You sayin' the Moonies had soemthin' to do with the deaders there?" he hikes a thumb back toward the cemetery.

"Many folks were running up the street, Cantrell," Alouette informs him, and ambles back down towards Danny. "Howdy!"

"Arthur buried a lady in a box that he left in a cellar with all the skitter demons and plus plus witchery in the Lodge of the Witches," it adds to the conversation with Gus, "But she was not there: high probability clay of lady was rendered undead by witchcraft." Then it points at him. "Repent."

"Oh, fuck you." Gus rolls his eyes at the clank. "Git out o' my face afore I have ta shoot you again."

"Ye best not be talkin' to Alouette that way." Danny growls, flipping his knife back to the ready.

"Or you'll do what, Mick?" Gus yawns, his hand tapping the handle of his bowie knife. "You know, we done got some unfinished business, you and me. But seein' as I'm tryin' to make nice on account oh trying to save my whole fuckin' town from immortal injuns, I'm gonna give you a once-in-a-lifetime chance to stop remindin' me how much I hate you by shuttin' your fuckin' lip. Now, it seems you done figgered out how to heal up nice and quick from all the shit that should o' killed you up to now, but I reckon you don't want to test me, boy. 'Cause I've been at the unkillable game longer than you, and I know how to make you fuckin' wish for death. You come at me, Mick, I won't stop with just your curls...I'll take your whole fuckin' head, see how well you heal up from that."

"Really? How gracious o' ye." Danny spits. "O' course, I didn't think ye'd be so fuckin' stupid, seein' as you're outnumbered by the likes o' them as seen Hell itself."

"Sounds like someone here's a slow fuckin' learner." Gus growls, his stance shifting into a fighting stance. "You think you can take me, you pissant Yankee piece of Irish shit? Then step up. Step up or go crawl into a hole like the worm I know you are."
This message was last edited by the player at 05:59, Mon 22 Oct 2012.

Gently, William pushes Darla away. Then he takes a few steps closer and to Danny's left.
"Careful, snake. The boy's with me. And I know a thing or two about the Irish. You don't want to get him riled. But on the off chance you do get lucky and win against him, then the two of us shall have a little dance. I've had quite a few of them."


EDIT: Adding an intimidation roll for good measure.
10:54, Today: William Pierce rolled 7,3 using d6+2,d6+2, rerolling max with rolls of 5,1. Intimidation.
This message was last edited by the player at 08:54, Mon 22 Oct 2012.