<hr/><div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/5/5a/Agatha-avi.jpg)</div><br/><strong>Name:</strong>Agatha Dunwich<br/><strong>Faction:</strong>Unknown<br/><strong>Date:</strong>A week before game start<br/><strong>Time of Day:</strong>Night<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Casino Morongo<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Harley<br/><br/><br/><br/><hr/><br/><div class="floatright">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/3/30/Steam_baby.jpg)</div>“A glass of the Superior.”  Agatha Dunwich sat at the end of the bar at the Casino Morongo.  Her silk clad legs crossed properly where she perched on the soft leather covered barstool.  Deacon Sloane spared no expense and that was why Agatha was here, that and it was the only place in town that supplied a top notch Irish Whiskey.  A week ago she had brought Sloane a few new prototypes for the girls and their customers to enjoy.   Today an invitation had arrived asking her to the Morongo to discuss future orders.<br/><br/>It wasn’t hard to spot Agatha Dunwich around town.  She was the one with sparkling emerald eyes and flame kissed copper hair.  Her dresses and smocks often include little clockwork and science gadgets built right into her bonnet or corset.  It could be anything from retractable mirrors to temperature controlled auto fanning devices, though tonight her dress held nothing of the sort.  Instead it was her jewelry that was made up of copper and brass and silver and gold discs and wheels and tiny little cogs.  Oh and the feathers in her hair.  She thought they looked so pretty on the Indian woman outside of town that she had incorporated them into her own style.<br/><br/>Unlike most proper woman Agatha often wore her long copper hair down.  She thought it was such pretty hair and saw no reason to bundle it all up and tuck it away, unless she was working with high combustible substances of course, but that was just common sense.  Anyway, she saw no need to hide it, not even paired with one of the miniature bonnets that were all the rage with the upper class ladies of the day. Elizabeth would know all about that.  Maybe she should ask her about it next tea.<br/><br/>Agatha’s tumbling thoughts, they often got that way when she was idle or bored or it was Sunday, were interrupted by the arrived of a tumbler full of ice and the delicious nectar that was Superior Brand Irish Whiskey.  She gave the barkeep a polite smile and slipped a quarter from the purse she held in her lap and set it on the bar.<br/><br/>Casino Morongo presented an interesting test for Agatha. She watched the tainted doves flutter from table to table, some landing on the shoulder of a lucky gambler some plucking little morsels from the crowd of ghost rock miners and card players and flying them off to their lovely little nests.  Occasionally one of the doves would flitter near to thank her for the wonderful toys she gave them and she would smile and nod and send them on their way all the while wishing she could cup one gently in her hands and feel their soft feathers against her flesh.  So it was again tonight, an exercise in restraint and a good old fashion shot of whiskey.<br/><br/>Agatha sighed and raised the glass, bringing the amber liquor to her pink glossy lips (a purchase from The London Royal Apothecary). The whiskey’s heat felt good against her lips and on her tongue and she closed her eyes for a moment to savor it.  A small satisfied smile touching her lips.<br/>