OOC:

Notice: 4

15:29, Today: Adrian Vega rolled 2,4 using d4,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 2,4. Notice.

OOC: Sure!
16:57, Today: Jake Lawrence rolled 7,2 using 1d8,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 7,2. Notice.

There's a very muffled voice yapping from somewhere in the kitchen. Oddly enough, it seems to be speaking Spanish.


"Are you...talking?" the priest asks, apparently not understanding the language.

"She must have dropped it then, because it's over here by my foot." Evans says. "And from the smell, she dumped the bucket out, as well. She must have wanted Jingles to slow us down."

((OOC: Evans has no Notice, so I'm not going to bother rolling for him right now.))

"Minus Jingles," Alouette concludes, poking the flattened jiang shi. "Why did the lady make you slow? Was it Titania Queen of all the Fairies? Titania Queen of all the Fairies has a big gun with many holes that feels of plus plus witchcraft."

[[That's fine. NB You're out of combat for now.]]

"It was a lady vampire," he clarified. "She musta took the prayer strip off Jingles and then poured the piss bucket over so that we'd be too busy tryin' to fight Jingles to come after her."

---

OOC:

Can Adrian see the prayer slip?

"Were you going to arrest her?" Alouette asks.

[[if he goes over to Evans, scuffles about for it a bit and brings it into the light once he's picked it up, sure he can study it...]]

"The plan is to stake her, to keep her from being a threat to others ever again." Evans says as he heads towards the light in the kitchen.

"I thought we were gonna just tell 'er to repent," he said.

Evans raises an eyebrow at Vega, then rolls his eyes and sighs and continues on.

The clank looks from Evans to Adrian, ticking with concern. "Did the lady vampire done harm a mortal?" it asks, pattering after the Marshal into the kitchen.

Everyone seems to be gathered about the back exit, the priest's hands bloodstained from healing once more. Near him, a table is wedged into the pantry, from under the floor of which come intermittent pleas in Spanish. Widow Bradshaw is in the act of pushing past into the laundry room, which causes Dave to look back and see the approaching men.

"Bitch's clean vanished," he reports, eyeing Alouette with distinct wariness. "Don't know what they're jawing about out there, but your bearded friend seems to know 'em." He winces and clutches at his injured shoulder, cursing softly.

"Do hickory sticks work on ladies?" the clank asks the priest as the latter turns.

"Um..." Father O'Rourke turns a baffled look on the posse members in search of context.

Something catches his eye on the ground in the darkness that looked somewhat paper like. Hoping it was what he thought it was he picked it up, and then moved towards the others so that he could literally and figuratively shed some light on the situations at hand.

"Alouette, she's threatening a lot of mortals and has already caused several mortals to not be mortals anymore. A hickory stick might work, I suppose, if you sharpen the point and use it as a stake," he says, moving to join the others.

There doesn't seem to be anything wrong with the prayer strip, which had fortunately drifted to rest beyond the puddle o' piss - apparently Marina just took it and sneaked off.

[[looking for anything in particular about it?]]

The clank ticks a little more. "Can onions whoop the ass of a man?" it asks, then tilts its head and adds the observation: "Floor Voice thinks something is coming."

OOC:

Just want to see if the writing looks relatively intact.

The yellow copy paper is leaf-thin in Adrian's fingers.

[[It's fine and unsmudged, albeit in Chinese...though I don't recommend infecting yourself with jiang shi-dom then sticking it on your head...I have no idea what it'd do to Harrowed, but I'm guessing it wouldn't be fun.]]

O'Rourke wades the confusion across to Dave. "Let me see your wound, my son," he says gently.

Evans lets Adrian explain to the clank while he speaks with Dave. "Damn." he says. "Right." he heads over to the carriage house, following Bradshaw. "Hello!" he shouts. "Mr. Pierce! Who is that out there?"

"I don't think onions can whoop the ass of a man, unless they're alive like the watermelons. Now look, I have to go give this prayer strip to the Chinaman upstairs. We have two men up there that got cut up by Jingles and are fixin' to become Chinese vampires. With any luck, I'll be back soon. Alouette, help Marshal Evans," he said before heading back upstairs.

OOC:

Adrian wants to go upstairs so he can get a prayer strip each on Lazarus and Spades.

Jake remained quiet letting the others talk as they had a tenancy to. He stood with his dragoon casually pointing towards the floor as he looked about and listened.

OOC:
09:54, Today: Jake Lawrence rolled 6,5 using 1d8,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 6,5. Notice.

"All watermelons are alive until they are not, Deputy Vega," the clank replies with profundity, then patters after Evans.

[[They already have 'em, but if you want to supply that one as a spare, move on back to the Big House... thread.]]

"She came in here all right," Abbie reports as everyone crams into the laundry room, standing on an upturned basket (and contents) to stab the wooden sword onto the shelves she can't see to the back of. "When I got in here there were two tracks in that spilt flour from the kitchen floor: hers and Percy's."

[[Abigail Bruebaker rolled 4 using 1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 4. Notice? ]]

"Howdy, Ambrose!" Alouette re-greets Evans for attention, joining the increasing press of folk in the laundry room, then notices people it hasn't seen before and people it hasn't seen for five minutes and decides to greet them, too.

"Howdy, Miss Abigail! Howdy Percy! Howdy Cake Lady! Howdy Names William Pierce! Howdy Names William Pierce's Differently Alive Friend! Howdy Magic Arms Man! Howdy Shiny Fat Lady!" it chirps, then beelines for one of the newcomers. "Beware, Magic Arms Man! You have the Devil's Boots! They are plus plus sinful boots, and also have holes in-"

Clemmons hits the doorpost, alarmed, gun already in hand and pointed at the clank. He doesn't seem to be able to cope with talky bird armour.
"What is that? What is that?!"

The clank tilts its head at him. "Self is angel," it explains. "Name value, Alouette. Fear not! Self has a hickory stick."

OOC:

Sounds good. It seemed like the Chinese dude was taking a long time to make the first one, so I figured he wouldn't be done yet. I think it's worth checking on things, even if its a quick trip.

"That damn thing," Dave opines, back out in the main kitchen, "-is gonna get shot. Again."

"Care to wager?" the other Dust Adder responds, now sitting on the pantry-wedged table. O'Rourke straightens from cleaning both sides of Dave's injury with a teatowel and holy water; somehow the bullet hole is already nothing but a healed scar, fading out even as Jake watches.

"I think we can lay off th' wagering for the night," he says, leaning back to glance at the mass of people around the edge of the pantry. "Though hopefully Evans will see to it." The priest looks across at Jake, concerned. "Are you all right?"

"¡Hijos de putas!" the voice from the floor under the table swears, "¡No me impuerta si quieros morir, pero liberame!"

"Well, damn." Evans says as he enters the carriage house. Then Alouette breezes by him. He pointedly sighs and glares at the man pointing his gun at the clank. "As she said, Alouette here is our resident metallic angel. Please do not shoot her--you will incur the wrath of god. Then I will have to arrest you for assaulting a duly deputized deputy of the Blackthorn marshal's office. Also, she might explode and kill us all."

He says this all in a dead serious voice. "I am Dr. Ambrosius Botticelli Evans, late of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, currently serving as the marshal of Blackthorn. Welcome to town. What manner of misadventure brought you folks to the middle of this?"

((OOC: Trying to calm down the gunslinger...13:05, Today: The Amazing Evans rolled 13,6 using d8+1,d6+1, rerolling max with rolls of (8+4)12,5. Persuasion.))

This message was last edited by the player at 20:15, Tue 26 Aug 2014.

"Amen," Alouette agrees.

Clemmons flattens himself against the mangle, though he does lower the gun. "You sure it ain't going to explode anyhow?" he asks.

The clank pokes about the threshold a bit, then nudges back in, does its tinny coin-rolled growl at the man's boots and walks all around the newcomers, then the floor, then sticks its head up the laundry chute before returning to Evans.

"Does Ambrose require helping?" it asks, whilst the young brown fellow from outside stares at it like it just fell from the sky.


[[William, you can give me a Smarts -2 if you like.

Evans, you also get a +2 Common Knowledge roll to see if you recognise JWH. Also, if you went past the threshold, he went past the other way, so Evans is talking to him a step away but he's inside, you are garage'd.]]
This message had punctuation tweaked by the GM at 20:25, Tue 26 Aug 2014.

Evans looks at the man, and pauses for a moment. Huh. Well, of course. He was having just that sort of day, after all.

"She won't if you don't startle her too much, Mr. Hardin." he says, dropping the name casually. "Such as, say, shooting any snoring people because they annoy you, or any law men who happen to recognize you from the many, many wanted posters you've been on. Mr. Hardin, know that I have no interest in attempting to arrest you--I'm busy trying to help us all survive the night through vampires, evil ghost snakes, immortal Comanche, spirit-warped cattle, zombies, and whatever else decides to crawl up from Hell and wave at us. I have 99 other problems on my plate so please, pretty please, don't make yourself another one." He turns at Alouette's question. "Alouette, if this gentlemen begins shooting wildly at people, you have my permission to whup his ass with your hickory stick. "

((OOC: 13:27, Today: The Amazing Evans rolled 7,7 using d8+2,d6+2, rerolling max with rolls of 5,5. Common Knoweldge.))

A slight smile crossed Jake's lips then vanished. "I've been better, but I've been worse padre. So don't go worrying bout me just yet." The huckster's eyes shifted away from the priest and to the voices he'd just heard moment's before coming from the floor.