Lechance

Sent while patrol is out.

Dear Delilah,

I would beg a moment of your time on your return to town to send a note and let me know that you have returned safely.

Sincerely,
Edward Parsons

It seemed that everyone in town was far too busy paying attention to the patrol to worry about their physical wellbeing. Paul's few appointments for the afternoon had cancelled, and the waiting room was empty, and Jay, according to Elspeth, had gone out to see the patrol depart.

Leaving a message with Harry that he would be in the square looking for Jay and would notify him of any change to that plan, Paul buttoned his jacket, put on his hat, and went out, pausing as he approached the square and the crowd seemed remarkably small.

He turned to someone on the edge of the square with a small frown. "I take it that the sheriff and his party have already departed?"

It was only a short walk from the square to the house, and no signs of it belonging to an undertaker. Effie led the way up the steps and across the porch, opening the door and unpinning her hat as she went into the hallway. "Tis surprised I am that your husband and mine dinna hae closer acquaintance."

Mrs. Effield Ibis entreats the company of Miss. Sadie Blackwood to tea, and begs that she will advise a suitable date.

With kind regards,

E. Ibis

[OOC notes: Players, please check ooc post here for more information. The ooc post will be updated as the thread progresses.]

They'd met in the Town Square shortly after 1.30pm.

When it was clear that every one was there, Jonas swung up onto his borrowed mount, called Digger near, and addressed the assembled folk from horseback.

"First off, may I jus' take the opportunity to tell you how grateful this town, and indeed myself and my team are for all your valuable help and support over this last while. Hopefully now we're actually getting somewhere, but I won't lie to you, this situation is still potentially very dangerous. And so I must urge you to practice extreme caution at every turn. Your safety is paramount above and beyond anything we may find. Stick together, no wanderin' off the path. Buddy up whenever you can, even if nature calls, beggin' your pardon. Deputy Charles has your names duly noted, and we'll be checking on folks along the way. Please be aware of everything around you. If you see something out of place, unusual tracks, items, sights, sounds, hell, even smells, please bring them to the attention of either myself, or Deputies Coleman or Charles."

He waited until he was sure everyone had absorbed the information so far before continuing. "Right, we're going to head up to the trail the patrol took and past their shelter from the other night, and up on up to the fissure to the co-ordinates that Sheriff Bowbuck left behind him when he left. If we encounter any strange weather on the way, everyone is to head for that shelter, is that understood?" 

The assembled patrol murmured their agreement. "Good, good. Right. I'll head up the column for now." He looked to his deputies. "Leo, can you take the back of the line, and Andrew, if you could ride out alongside as spotter? We'll be stopping for breaks along the way so that I can check on progress and where everyone is up to. First of these I suggest'll be just up from the shelter. There's a bit of a flat area just up beyond it. We'll stop there."

He looked around the folk gathered, "And I just pray that the good Lord'll be shinin' on us, and we'll find somethin' useful. Everyone got watches to hand?" He took his out of his waistcoat pocket, and checked it against the town clock. "Happen it's now 2pm. Worse comes to worse an' we get separated, everyone's to report back here afore 4.30pm. Any questions?" he finished, looking around. "Speak up now if so." 

His eyes scanned over those assembled to look for any hands, or people shouting out with questions.

Just after midday, and the town crier announcement, and James had taken the opportunity and meandered down to the shore, taking a hardback book of manuscript paper with him. He needed a mental break from the research, and no one had booked him for teaching, so he had a while to relax in, to work out his brain in more familiar ways.

Taking off his shoes and stockings out of fond habit, he settled down by the dunes, resting his back against a tussock, his book propped up on his knees. He was soon busy scribbling hard with his pencil, scratching out phrases that he didn't think would work, and rewriting them. He looked like he was listening intently, head bowed over the paper, brow furrowed in concentration, feet digging into and under the warm sand, murmuring occasionally to himself.

Lifting his head briefly, he moved the fingers of his right hand in midair, in obvious imitation of finding notes on a piano. His eyes were closed, his head tilted and he was singing out notes very softly under his breath. He didn't much notice when a shadow passed over him as someone approached, and was startled as he finally opened his eyes to write.

"Oh apologies, please excuse my rudeness, I was miles away," he said with a nod of greeting, a warm slow smile growing on his face.

It wasn't even a day past all the happenings in town, and Sadie found herself still unsettled. Every noise in the workroom, accustomed or not, was making her jump. The thought of little machines (or whatever they were) causing so much damage was frightful. At least, if they'd been animals, she could use the excuse that they didn't know any better. That they'd been acting on instinct. But machines, machines implied intelligence. They implied that someone, somewhere had made them with intent to harm.

Finally, muttering apologies to her assistant, she'd gone outside, letter from her sister in hand but unread. She took a deep breath and tried to settle herself.

Simon was on the front porch of the apothecary again, this time with a book open on one knee and a notepad in the other, writing notes now and then as he turned pages. He was still puzzling over whether or not he thought they'd come up with the best sorts of bait for...whatever sort of menace was composed of gears and metal joints.

"Do you suppose," he asked when a shadow fell over the page, "that a mechanical creature eats the way any other does?"

Having heard the news about the trap, Theo set about making Julian's favorite dinner as a way to celebrate. Michel had helped and as a result, Theo had recleaned the kitchen once they were done. Michel was upstairs bathing off the results of his assistance, upstairs with the door open where Theo would hear him singing made up songs.

When he heard the front door, he rinsed his hands and went to greet his husband.

Leo was still trying to wrap her brain around everything that happened. Of everything, she thought the tiny gears and leg that had been found were the most intriguing and the most mysterious. She couldn't remember when she'd seen work so small and so fine -- or if she ever had.

She'd checked in with the members of the neighborhood watch, checked on her horse and then wandered back through the town. She was off duty and just sort of meandering.

Ben was still in his work clothes when he came to Jon's office late in the afternoon. He locked the door behind him, climbed onto Jon's lap and bit his throat under his chin and over his collar. "Hello."

By all accounts, it had been a crazy night for all involved – more crazy for some than others. The town's inventors for instance. Just as they'd been wrapping up their meeting at the museum, they began to hear sounds. They took a hurried vote and agreed they would all go to investigate the sounds. At first it seemed it was just a false alarm but then one of them noticed the slightest glint of metal on light. Very carefully they explored the area around the display and discovered three almost miniscule gears and what looked like a fragile, jointed leg.

They immediately went to look for Leroy. He was a hard man to find, the members of the neighborhood watch were looking for him as well. They'd gotten reports of incidents all over town. The report of strange noises at the library finally made sense, and when, both teams finally found the mayor and reported in, they discovered that the disturbance at the pub had merely been a new and enthusiastic dance patrons had been learning. As for the stables, well, there was a new couple who was rather embarrassed but entirely unharmed. The set about telling Leroy what had happened to them.

Not much later, members of the patrol returned to town and explained that they'd been caught in a high wind. The others looked puzzled – there'd been no such wind in town. They were all sent back to their homes to catch some sleep and asked to reconvene in the morning

And the next morning, the researchers came to Leroy's salon to tell the mayor that they'd broken the code. The strange numbers the previous sheriff had left where actually the location of the area around the fissure. The decision was made to send out Jonas and the patrol to explore.

The town crier was summoned, and she and Leroy worked out a statement. That day, at noon, the news was spread: The newly-formed groups had already proved beneficial. A trap design had been created and would soon be produced. Strange gears had been found in the museum and were being investigate; the patrol group was going to explore the trail to the fissure.

Mid morning, and Jonas was doing a walk around town, with Digger in tow. The weather was pleasant, and problems were being shared and organised, lightening Jonas' workload and stress. Both were in playful mood, each wrestling either end of a branch. It wasn't clear who was winning just yet, but when Jonas nearly tripped into the path of someone coming their way, Digger definitely counted it as a win, yapping loudly.

"Humble apologies," Jonas half-laughed, as he tried to keep his hat on his head. "High spirits."

With all that was going on, it was really nice to have a day to just be domestic -- unpacking their things in their new house.

He opened another box -- more of his books, of course -- and began carefully shelving them on the built-in shelves next to the desk. A little lost in thought, alphabetizing without really looking, brain more on all the things he could do with this space -- and a little bit on going to find his husband and see what he's up to.

He hummed tunelessly to himself as his mind began leaning more towards the latter, distractedly putting D before B and R before K on the shelf.

Left on Paul's bedside table so that he'd see it when going to bed:
A tussie mussie, consisting of various decorative grasses, several stems of oats, forget-me-nots, and blue violets, with lace and blue ribbons at the base that Jay has dressed himself.

Message in the language of flowers:
Oats-For music, indicating Jay himself.
Forget-me-nots-For true love.
Grasses-For submission.
Blue violets-For faithfulness.

A small card, handwritten in flowing script is beside the flowers:
"Dearest Ascendant, 
A small gift from me to you. I thought these would go nicely on your bedside table, 
Yours J"

A delivery is made to Sadie's shop. It's a piece of well-woven ivory linen, large enough to perhaps make a pair of gloves out of and have a bit left over for something smaller. The base of a handkerchief, maybe.

The note accompanying the delivery reads:

Miss Blackwood,

I hope you don't find this too forward, but I came across this piece of cloth in my things and could think of no better place for it than with you. I hope that it is of some use to you or can be used to make something nice. I greatly enjoyed our meeting and hope that you are well.

With regards,
Daniel Masters

Hattie had spent the last two days baking, cleaning the house from top to bottom and decorating it with flowers. She'd brought most of the chairs in the house into the drawing room, set in little groups so people could talk comfortably, each with a little table to put their tea and cakes on. On a bigger table, there was a huge urn of tea and cakes and breads of every imaginable sort. Hattie had had the time of her life baking them!

The fun she'd had preparing could only be exceeded by the joy that filled her as she gazed about at the people filling her drawing room.

Dear Beloveds,

It is my pleasure to invite you all for afternoon tea at three o'clock on Saturday 7 February, for a gathering of Beloveds for conversation and the consumption of a wide selection of cakes and breads!

I look forward to seeing you all - and if you know any other Beloved who would like to come, please do invite them too!

Yours,

Hattie Salas (nee Palmer)

(Address follows)

Late night, and most of the town were in their beds. Sheriff Jonas Wilder however, wasn't.
( cut for length )
.... He awoke in the early hours, still seated and slumped over at his desk, having finally exhausted and drunk himself into a restless sleep. Papers were still sticking to his face as he stirred at the cockcrow of early morning. He groaned as he unfurled his body, standing finally to clear things away. Papers back in the cabinets, books piled on his desk, cigar ash brushed away, and the decanter refilled and replaced. All before anyone else should awaken to the new day, and suspect what he'd been up to.

Wednesday evening found Paul uncharacteristically restless after surgery hours finished. The sun was setting, but the evening remained relatively light, and he went in search of James, pausing in the library doorway at the sound of a violin, not wishing to interrupt necessary practise time. Instead, he leaned against the doorframe, watching the graceful movements of his Beloved's body following the phrasing of the music and the skill of James' fingers moving over the neck of the instrument