Mafia IX Game Thread - St Valentines Massacre - Night 6

1929, early February

The City


Agent Fairchilde closed his office door, setting his briefcase on the ground.

He was taking some work home tonight to review, and draft up his opinons. The Bureau chief was in town, but J Edgar Hoover did not believe in organized crime, instead believing that hoodlums were too disorganized to generate outfits of hundreds and profits of millions.

He turned his back to the hallway, to lock his outside office door.

From behind, he heard the creak of leather...

BAM BAM BAM BAM

... as he was shot in the back and left for dead in a pool of his blood.

Agent Elliot Ness found Agent Fairchilde early the next morning, unconscious but alive, and Commissioner Gordon placed Agent Fairchilde in protective custody at the Hospital.


The Rules

Spoiler

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Rules -
Rule 1 – Don’t sign up unless you’re willing to play any role. You are not allowed to give up your roles.

Rule 2 –Read your PMs. You may receive a message, or be killed, and it won’t be broadcasted to the game. Read your PMs before you check the updates to see if you’ve been killed.

Rule 3 - This is a game based on turns - 48 hour day phases (comic updates notwithstanding) and 24 hour night phases.

Rule 4 - We are using "Helgraf's Interference rule" for multiple scries. If more than one person scries the same person (i.e. Mafia VI when 3 (!) people scried Shadow on Night 1) then the results for all scries is "Undetermined" or something to that effect.

Rule 5 – Due to the Abduction rules, if you’ve been killed in game PLEASE DON’T POST IN THE THREAD UNTIL YOUR BODY IS FOUND.

We reserve the right to add more rules, especially if someone tries to break our game.

SITE ACCESS ALLOWING Autolynches are enforced for every two day phases without a vote. Pointing at yourself doesn't count. If you don't think you can post once every five days, expect to be autolynched. This is after all a turn-based game with winners and losers, which has elements of team work, subterfuge, and a time limit. These time limits are enforced to maintain game balance.
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Roles:
Masons – The Untouchables (Good Guys). Traditional mason role. These are the good guys brought in by the FBI to investigate the shooting of Agent Fairchilde and bring down the mobs responsible. (Scry as Masons)

Winning the Game: The Masons win if they successfully eliminate both the Capone Mob and the Northside Mob ending the gang war.

Allied with the Citizens, Elliot Ness, J Edgar Hoover and Commissioner Gordon, and the Informants, but does not start out knowing who they are.

Baner - Commissioner Gordon
May make one Bane attempt per night protecting a citizen from assassination.

Winning the Game: The Baner wins if they successfully eliminate both the Capone Mob and the Northside Mob. Allied with the Citizens, Elliot Ness, J Edgar Hoover and Untouchables, and theInformants, but does not start out knowing who they are. (Scries as Baner)

Seer or Scryer – Elliot Ness
As the Seer you are allied with the Citizens, J Edgar Hoover and Untouchables, and the Informants. You may make one Scry a night and have 100% accurate results. Your win conditions are: Eliminating both groups of Wolves – Capone Mob and the Northside Mob. (Scries as Seer).

Allied with the Citizens, Commissioner Gordon, J Edgar Hoover and Untouchables, but does not start out knowing who they are

Fool – J Edgar Hoover Believes he/she is Elliot Ness. Allied with the Citizens. You may make one Scry a night which may or may not be accurate.

Your win conditions are: Eliminating both groups of Wolves – Capone Mob and the Northside Mob.

Allied with the Citizens, Elliot Ness, Commissioner Gordon, the Informants, and the Untouchables, but does not start out knowing who they are. (Scries as Fool)

The Mob Informants (uses the rules of the Lovers)
Informant – Connected to (Wanted by) the Northside Mob– The informants were childhood friends from the same neighborhood that joined rival gangs but recently quit with the intention of turning states evidence. One informant is wanted by the Northside Mob, the other by the Capone mob. If the Informant is killed by the mob that wants him or her/lynched/or autolynched that mob get’s 1 free scry to be used whenever they’d like.

Example of play – The Informant connected to the Northside Mob is lynched duiring the day phase; the Northside Mob now receive 1 free scry in the night phase. If that informant is killed by the “wrong” mob, the no one get’s a scry..

Informant – Connected (Wanted by) to the Capone Mob –
Winning the Game: The Informants win if they successfully eliminate both the Capone Mob and the Northside Mob.



Citizen (Villagers)
These are the everyday members of society. They usually play by the rules and follow the law; however, that isn't to say that when an opportunity comes along to get a leg up they wouldn't take advantage. The goal of the Citizenry is to get rid of Capone Moba and the Northside Mob. The citizens are really in the game for themselves to survive. You may vote once per day phase to try to make this city a better place. Allied with the J Edgar Hoover, Elliot Ness, Commissioner Gordon, the Informants, and the Untouchables, but does not start out knowing who they are. (Scry as Citizens)

Winning the Game: The Citizens win if they successfully eliminate both the Capone Moba and the Northside Mob.

The Bad Guys

The Northside Mob- .

Boss Dion O’Bannion - The Northside Boss (Alpha_. Sends in the nightly kills, or designates one of the other Northsiders to do so. (Scries as “Citizen”).

“Bugs” Moran – Northside Consigliore (Devil). 100% scry once per night. If he dies, the Northsiders lose their ability to Scry. (Scries as ““Bugs” Moran – Northside Consigliore”).

Northsiders (Northside Mob - Mafia)
The other members of the Northsiders - standard wolf role, counting towards victory. (Scries as Northside Mob – Wolf)

Northside’s Victory Conditions: Eliminate the Capone Mob and equal or outnumber all other factions at the end of the game.

The Northside Mob have two options for their night kill:
Public killing – The public killing is a message to the citizenry to stay out of the way, and accept things the way they are. Traditional night kill, body left in the street, etc. Usually very messy and a loud statement.

OR - Abduction
The Wolves send in the kill saying they want to abduct and kill a player. If the player is not protected (baned) in the night phase – they disappear. The player will be PM’d they’ve been killed, and the body will turn up two or three day phases later.

I.E. If a player is abducted Night 1, the body will turn up the morning of Day 3-4. This is why it is very very important to NOT SPEAK IN THE GAME IF YOU HAVE BEEN KILLED. Don’t worry, the body will turn up.

The Capone Mob (Capone Mobsters - Mafia):

Al “Scarface” Capone – (Capone Mob Alpha) Calls the hits, runs the city.(Scries as “Citizen”).

Frank “The Enforcer” Nittii The Consigliore - Falcone Mob Devil - 100% scry once per night. If he dies, the Mafia lose their ability to Scry. (Scries as “Frank “The Enforcer” Nittii The Consigliore - Falcone Mob Devil”)

Capone Mob Gangster.
Standard wolf role, counting towards victory.
(Scries as “Mafia – Capone Mob”)

Mafia Victory Conditions: Eliminate the Northside Mob and equal or outnumber all other factions at the end of the game.

Capone's mob has two options for their night kill:
Public killing – The public killing is a message to the citizenry to stay out of the way, and accept things the way they are. Traditional night kill, body left in the street, etc. Usually very messy and a loud statement.

OR – Abduction
The Wolves send in the kill saying they want to abduct and kill a player. If the player is not protected (baned) in the night phase – they disappear. The player will be PM’d they’ve been killed, and the body will turn up two or three day phases later.

I.E. If a player is abducted Night 1, the body will turn up the morning of Day 3-4. This is why it is very very important to NOT SPEAK IN THE GAME IF YOU HAVE BEEN KILLED. Don’t worry, the body will turn up.

The City (Players)

Spoiler

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Aemoh
Alarra
androgial
Darkcomet
Dirk Kris
Dr. Bath
evnafets
flabbicus
Helgraf
Istari
Jontom Xire
KerfuffleMach2
LordRod
Malmagor Andrigal
purple gelatinous cube o`Doom
Ranna
Selrahc
Shadowcaller
Shishnarfne
SweetLikeLemmons
The Bushranger
ThePhantom
Uncle Festy
whitehelm

Dead Players
Fin - Lynched Day 1 - Capone Mobster (Wolf)
Ganurath - Killed Night 1 - by the Capone Mob
Iceddragons - Lynched Day 2 -was a Citizen.
Emperor Demonking - AutoLynched Day 2 -was a Citizen
Mustiado - AutoLynched Day 2 -was a member of Untouchables (Mason).
Numberfourteen - AutoLynched Day 2 - J Edgar Hoover (Fool)
PhantomFox - Killed Night 2 by Northside Mob -was a member of Untouchables (Mason).
Shades of gray - Lynched Day 3 - Commissioner Gordon (Baner)
Queenfange - Autolynched Day 3 - Citizen
Thes Hunter - Autolynched Day 3 - Capone Mobster (Wolf)
Noir Cat - Autolynched Day 3 - Citizen
Supagoof - Abducted Night 1 by the Northside Mob - Untouchable (Mason)
dallas-dakota Killed Night 3 by the Northside Mob - Capone Mobster (Wolf)
Tired N' Drowzy - Citizen - Lynched Day 4
Doseki - Citizen - Autolynched Day 4
Wolfbane - Police Informant (Lover role) - Spied on the Northside - Autolynched Day 4
Trixie - Killed Night 4 - Northside Mobster (Wolf)
The Rogue Monk - Killed Night 4 - Capone Mobster (Wolf)
Murska - Elliot Ness (Scryer) - Abducted by the Capone Mob on Night 2
Amplify
Recaiden
Mountain Faerie
deathslayer7
Cynan Machae

Day 1 Begins! Roles to be sent out shortly!

Day 1 Ends Tuesday, February 10th at 10pm Central Standard Time (U.S.)

F1RST P0ST!

Phew. Finally got to say that once. :smallbiggrin:

Liriel sits down on her front porch again. The plants had withered and died due to no one watering them for some time, and musty newspapers were strewn across the yard. She had spent most of the day cleaning and waiting for The Bushranger to come.

She wanted to talk to him... :smallannoyed:

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Murska

F1RST P0ST!

Phew. Finally got to say that once. :smallbiggrin:

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*laughs as Murska is ninja'd by the narrator*

Purple gelatinous cube o`Doom for having a really long name.

Yea! We're starting!

PGCoD since he has a really long name.

Bah, ninja'd. Um... Ranna then I guess.

PGCoD because I am intrigued by this long name theory. I think it would be pretty interesting to watch the results if we just mechanize the pointing process into methodically getting rid of people with long names until Fin is the last one alive. :smalltongue:

As I stepped outside, and closed the door to the office, I noticed the sign on my door, which read "PGCOD-P.I." needed to be touched up. I went down the stairs to the narrow sidewalk in front of the the building, and glanced up and down the street, noticing how gritty the exteriors along the street have become. I started heading West along the street towards uptown, sensing an unusual air about this part of the city. An air that spelled trouble in the coming days. As I stopped and waited for the light to change, I saw iceddragons across the intersection with his back to me heading up the street. I must watch that one I thought to myself. He seems up to no good.

Hmmm.... I am around and alert, but I don't like to vote right away. I'll wait for a few more posts and then choose someone. The more known before I place my vote, the better chance I have of not killing an innocent.

Rilik steps out of his prohibition era alleyway. He flicks a cigarette onto the street and ground it with his boot.

"Well if this ain't a great Brian de Palmaesque city we're living in."

Rilik pulls out his two Browning pistols and checks their magazines before shoving them back into their holsters. Then he takes a swig of non illicit nonalcoholic moonshine from his trench coat pocket.

"dallas-dakota's got the look of a hardened gin runner. I'm sure he's a no goodnik and is thus up to no good. Also, he's got a known cookie addiction which he's failed to kick."

dallas dakota

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Darkcomet

*laughs as Murska is ninja'd by the narrator*

Purple gelatinous cube o`Doom for having a really long name.

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Actually I wasn't, since I saw that, but the narrator isn't counted. Duh.

EDIT: @VFIST!

Murska points at evnafets.

Youngsters these days are out of control. Too often their parents have let them run wild. They are obnoxious, annoying hooligans, and we need to do something about them.

Ladies and Gentleman, it is time to do that something. A vote for evnafets as Mayor, is a vote for controlling the unruly behaviour of these hooligans who think they can just run around, waving their arms in the air, and yelling "FIST" in every game thread they come across.
We need to come down hard on this sort of behaviour. Yelling out "First!", breaking the 3 post rule, invoking the rule of Shadow in inappropriate circumstances - all of these are crimes that should be punishable by DEATH!
evnafets points at Murska in an attempt to shut down any more attempts at calling "fist" in a WW game by lynching the first person who does it. And I don't care that he was ninja'ed by the narrator.

Rilik takes a long drag of his cigarette then exhales it to form a cloud around his head.

"Now now. Calm down Mr. Tinhorn. Er wait, I'm mixing up my period slang a little bit. But it will serve. I think that we shouldn't kill this guy. I mean he got a little over exuberant in his greetings. But feh," he flicks the cigarette at a nearby rat scurrying across the street, "if you want to be the mayor and make these calls then you might as well do some sleuthing first "Mayor" evnafets."

Flabbicus. Because both of his avatars disturb me.

The_Rogue_Monk for copying DD's avatar.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Wolfbane

The_Rogue_Monk for copying DD's avatar.

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And Sneak's sig. :confused:

*Ranna looks out of the musty car window as it rolls into town. She was once a hopeful young graduate student with a bright future ahead of her, but a few wrong decisions and a baaaddd group of friends meant that she had to give all that up and return back home to mummy and daddy, except mummy and daddy didn't want her back and so she wound up here, where-ever here was...*

She notices a middle aged man (Evnafets) in the street proclaiming about hooligans and un-ruly youngsters and laughs to herself, "I don't think I will get along with that one best stay out of his way.."

A tired looking man makes his way out of his office. He looks like he has been working hard, and he has probably gone without sleep for four days. He wears a dark brown trenchcoat and a fedora. He holds in his hand a series of papers as if to say, Come on, mafia! You know I'm probably a power role.

He soon turns to the others to see the place in chaos. Apparently, a murder had just taken place. The man makes his way towards the center to see several mobs forming around several other people.

What the hell...

The man smiles as he grabs a picket sign and starts screaming with the mob.

"Lynch purple gelatinous cube o`Doom!" He bellows.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Selrahc

PGCoD because I am intrigued by this long name theory. I think it would be pretty interesting to watch the results if we just mechanize the pointing process into methodically getting rid of people with long names until Fin is the last one alive. :smalltongue:

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*:smallbiggrin: I LOL'd*

D-do ya wanna buy this off me? Its the best there is! Please, I'm a great businessman why wouldn't ya wanna buy from me!!?

Get away from me ya bum! Do even know what that is? Why would I want that stupid thing?

Well, because it's lovely and pretty and you don't have it! See look...

Fin brandishes his treasure at the man who did not have the treasure! He didn't look impressed but that was probably because his stupid, tiny mind couldn't even tell what it was! Realising this Fin withdrew the object back into his coat!

Nevermind! You can't have it, get away form me!? Your barred from my shop!

What are you talking about you don't even have a... Ugh, nevermind!

Fin watched the man walk away from the doorstep he had decided would be his house for the day. He was glad the man didn't have the treasure, he didn't deserve it! Only people of worth could buy from Finoch Decano, a man who had once owned the most successful chain of supermarkets in the state.

Besides did he really want to sell this treasure becuase it was his favourite thing in the world. Clutching the object through his robes Fin felt safe, safer than he had felt in prison! A Joker they had called him there, yet he never remembered being very funny. Still he didn't get on with the rest of the inmates and soon he had retreated so far into himself that he ceased to be the successful businessman he had been. Since his release he had drifted from place to place, a penniless hobo. Until he had found this, his treasure. The thing that would make him rich again, if only the puny minds could realise what it was!

All he knew was that no matter what happened, no matter what anyone said, he would never ever give it to that one! Wolfbane could never have this treasure!

I point at Murska because of that FIRST business.

yay! it started! it started! :smallbiggrin:

"evnafets! I accuse thee of being a wolf"

*ehem* "Wrong game sir"

"huh? what?... oh!... right. hmmm... then I accuse thee of something else. I don't know what of, but I'm sure you're guilty"

"That'll show him, sir"

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Selrahc

PGCoD because I am intrigued by this long name theory. I think it would be pretty interesting to watch the results if we just mechanize the pointing process into methodically getting rid of people with long names until Fin is the last one alive. :smalltongue:

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Gasp! :smalleek:
Fin and Selrahc are clearly in cahoots, and are planning to win the game by convincing us to let Fin be the last player lynched!
The conspiracy goes all the way to the top!
:smallwink:

Why did I come to come to this city? This city is well known for its history of violences, so why did I come here? Oh yeah, my big brother went crazy, joined a cult, got caught, and then went crazier. Now, I have to find a job to pay his keep. Well, here I am, and still unable to find a job.
(Queenfange)

A man with a trenchcoat and a fedora sits on a bus bench, waiting to go somewhere.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by ThePhantom

Why did I come to come to this city? This city is well known for its history of violences, so why did I come here? Oh yeah, my big brother went crazy, joined a cult, got caught, and then went crazier. Now, I have to find a job to pay his keep. Well, here I am, and still unable to find a job.

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Can you make sandwiches? I'm looking for help here, and whatever, if you can just learn I can give you a job. Flabbicus

That was weird. I was just thinking that. "I can make sandwiches, really fancy ones. If you want, I'm hired."

I walked out of the sandwich store somewhat unsatisfied. the new guy forgot the cheese. Who forgets the cheese? Wondering about this confusing phenominon I took a short jog through the park and came across a odd man in a fur covered blue costume claiming to be a "Rogue monk". Has this city gone made once again recently? Maybe It's just that I got a bit too much at Lucky's myself...

I did ask for cheese on that sandwich, didn't I?

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Shades of gray

A man with a trenchcoat and a fedora sits on a bus bench, waiting to go somewhere.

---

Just a warning to players, that I may not see these very very clever votes.

Please vote like this: Zar Peter so everyone can see the vote.

Otherwise I will end up missing the votes.

Fin cause he has a short name.

It was getting bad again, like it ever stopped being bad. Another murder attempt in broad daylight. I turned my back and walked away. Yeah I said that and I did that. I learned my lesson from the last time around. Don't get involved, don't be a hero. That's the way to survive anymore, Just don't notice. Not like I had much of a choice. I Really shouldn't be thinking of the past though, might end up working myself up to doing something stupid like getting involved again. Heard that FIN got released last month or so. A changed man they said. Yeah it shows, but I cant help but wonder if he might end up changing back.

((Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Mafia))

Cold.

A tiny sliver of cold roused me from sleep ... cold followed by the sensation of wet. Eyes flickered open, staring into darkness filled with phantasmal afterimages, senseless night horrors generated by a still somnolent mind to give some frame of perspective to the all-pervading darkness.

Sight had given me nothing useful. I could hear the wet spatter of rain, the sound throttled by the thickness of the walls; even so I could tell it was coming down hard and strong, knew that if I was outdoors, I'd be drenched to the bone, and the wind would be sheeting it near horizontal.

I'd have been more thankful for that small mercy, but my senses were not done with me yet. Scent came next, and with it a sour melange which slipped in and took up residence, refusing to clear even after a near-gagging exhale. Old stale tobacco, burned and burned again, so that all that remained was a sort of gummy tar. Something astringent, with that fake citrus that was way too strong and still failed to kill the chemical undertones it was designed to mask. Sweat and old relations clung to the bedsheets, whispering of rare moments of stolen fleeting pleasure washed away by the grey of morning and the inevitable costs.

Plop.

Another droplet, this one on my forehead. The rain was unwilling to cede even one escapee from its torment. I reached blindly with my right hand, knocking something hard, round and glass to the floor, where it must have struck something soft, because only a muffled thud followed. My fingers closed around something metal and smallish.

Peace. As close as I'd get to it anyway. I brought it over almost unconsciously, cleared the chamber, checked the load, snapped it back into place. I fumbled around again, looking for other tiny pieces of hard reality to give me context. Metal, about a fingerswidth across and as long as my middle digit. A tiny groove; a slight tug, and recognition. Straight razor.

There was a brillant flash, followed almost instantly by a crackling boom; in that moment, a portion of my surroundings was burned into my retinas. There was blood on the far wall. Clothes hung haphazardly from metal hangers on a wooden pole.

And it was dark again. I was awake and alone with my thoughts as I pulled myself up toward a sitting position ... and hit my head on the slanting ceiling directly over the bed I'd woken in. Several words that would have had my mouth washed out by the good sisters at Sister Mary Francis Academy spilled into the stale air as reds and blues crawled across my vision in jumpy patterns that echoed the throbbing in my skull.

It wasn't my place. I knew this instinctively because I don't really have a place to speak of. What I do have is a small amount of charm and enough size to make any three stevedores think twice each - a task that would typically take about an hour, I might add - about saying things about any dame whose company I should happen to be in at the time.

It wasn't a woman's place either. Which means I must have been ... dropped off ... somewhere in Shantytown. It wouldn't be the last time and it certainly wasn't the first - but it told me whomever it was had money or a heart too big for this place. It also told me I'd better be up and out long before eleven of the morning, if I didn't want a protracted argument in three different languages, one of which would be booze, about who would pay the cover for the cleaning now, anyway.

There had definitely been a woman though - this much I was also sure of. Images swam through my brain, but I could not trust them - composite chimeras of many women I'd known, woman I'd wanted to know, and women I'd have no chance of ever knowing, no how.

Another lighting flash. I pulled myself - more carefully - from the bed. Grabbed my piece and straight-razor. I appeared to be in clothes, though they were very tight - and certainly not mine. I suspected I'd once more been thrown together in someone's husband's or brother's outfit before being dropped off ... here. I wobbled toward where I thought there should be a door, then damn near tripped as I tried to pull my left leg forward, meeting completely unexpected resistance. Having no light to go by, I took a moment, and yanked my leg forward ... the loud protest of the bedframe dragging along the floor. I reached down ... found my leg still bound up in some sort of scarf ... which was wound about the footboard of the bed.

I wondered - again - what the hell I'd been doing the prior night. It seemed like something I would have liked to recall. I undid the knot - which took longer than I'd have liked, both because of the dark and because of the tightness of the bind; smaller fingers might well have had an easier time with it as well, I'll concede. Finally, it was done, and not one to refuse a little extra warmth, I wrapped the cloth around my neck. Went back to the door and threw it open; a blast of wind and wet assailed me, proved my earlier assessment of the storm was all too accurate.

Into the streets then.

((And random first day post at Murska))