Mafia 2: mass intrigue (closed)

[DarkLightDragon]

(( Actually, Kyrian, you're vote and subsequent removal of vote counts as activity, so you have no fear of auto-lynch, regardless. However, point as you please. ))

((So why did *I* get auto-lynched for this?!))

[InaVegt]

((So why did *I* get auto-lynched for this?!))

((Since A. I didn't notice that, and B. my method of counting votes doesn't show a difference between voting and retracting your vote.))

[Joosbawx]

(( Wow...okay. I apologize to DLD. Simply because that has been the policy in every other game I've played (which is pretty much every WW and WW-clone on the boards, almost) I guess I shouldn't have stated that was the policy in Gezina's game. That's my fault, and I'm sorry it cost you the game.

Also, night will end at 1pm Central - 7pm GMT today ))

[DarkLightDragon]

((*sigh* It's already happened. Yes, I'm quite annoyed about this, but it would be awkward for me to reenter the game. Perhaps I'll take a break and miss the next one. I don't want to totally lose it if something else happens.))

[Gnome Barbarian]

((You gusy also killed yuor CSI guy the first day. That was me if you dont rmemeber.))

[Castaras]

(( BUT they have killed three of the mafia. Including my poor mafia family. What did we ever do to you? We kept to ourselves, killing a few people yes, but, we're all nice really. ))

[Selrahc]

((Sigh....

I really really wish I could talk. Guess It'll have to wait til after the game))

[Joosbawx]

Night Six Ends

Things were definitely surreal...and getting worse with each and every dawn. This anonymous patron of the arts was getting more and more macabre, even if she, or he, did have excellent taste and an eye for the aesthetically pleasing. Don't blame me for looking for the bright side...if there is such a thing...as silver linings have been few and far between lately. Until tonight, that is. After tonight the term 'silver lining' has a whole new sinister twist.

The thing must have weighed the better part of a ton...and, like its bronze counterpart, was extremely life-like. Or is that death-like in cases like this? We found it covered in a giant blue sheet, looking like a ghost in the shadowy courtyard in front of the Museum. How he got it in there without the watchmen or the uniforms I'd placed there raising the alarm was a question I'm certain those two rookies were not looking forward to answering for me. I made them wait until I made it down to the crime scene before unveiling the newest addition. No sense in drawing a crowd before it was necessary...but the vultures and their cameras were already circling. I had to chuckle as I walked right past them two blocks from the Museum were the uniforms had them corralled...like I gave a damn. Let me do my job first, and then, if there's time, you can do your song and dance for the morning addition. I tugged my fedora down over my eyes to protect against the flash-clink-flash-clink of the cameras. No need to see my own mug in the papers, I saw it everyday in the mirror and let me tell you...it don't have a good side to it.

Five minutes later the sheet was yanked off the statue and there, hunched over a crystal ball with an expression of concentration painstakingly preserved by the silver tomb. I shook my head and took a sip of coffee. Damn...this $#!7 was hardly even bothering me anymore...and that did bother me. Poor schmuck...though, the fez was a nice touch. Reaching for the note I knew I'd find, I pulled it off the still warm 'statue' and ripped it open to read:

"This is working out far better for me than previously thought. Tonight, my friends, I give tribute to your seer. Look at the statue, and dispair. Your list is nothing. I have been on it since the beginning. You shall not catch me. I shall rule this town. Muh-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!!!!!"

Resisting the urge to crush the arrogant missive into a ball, I swiftly lapped it against the chest of the uniform standing next to me with a gruff order to ensure the investigation team went over it, just like that last one. I didn't expect them to find anything more than they did off the last one, but when you have precious little to go on you can at least be thorough.

Taking one last look at the corpse, I ordered the sheet put back over the body..statue...whatever...so the papers would have to wait a little while longer for their front page splash. Damn, the thing did look like a ghost in the dark once it was covered up...a great big blue ghost. Too bad ghosts didn't talk, 'cause I'd have given anything to find out what this one knew. This was was only the runner-up. I'd hate to be the guy that wins the gold.

inky13112, the Red Ring Mason Seer, was killed by the Mafia.

[Castaras]

(( Go mafia! ))

[Joosbawx]

Um, 45 minutes past 1 Central. Just a friendly reminder. I know how long it can take to get the updating done....

((Kid, this is unnecessary and very, very, very annoying. The night freakin' ENDS at that time, which means that is the freakin' deadline for people to get their moves in to me. Then I must take the time to PM everyone that requires information, track said information, and then compose and post the flavor text. Sometimes that takes more than 5 minutes. I would sincerely appreciate you not jumping on the timing every day, capice?

Thank you for your patience.))

[Eldritch Knight]

((Kid, this is unnecessary and very, very, very annoying. The night freakin' ENDS at that time, which means that is the freakin' deadline for people to get their moves in to me. Then I must take the time to PM everyone that requires information, track said information, and then compose and post the flavor text. Sometimes that takes more than 5 minutes. I would sincerely appreciate you not jumping on the timing every day, capice?

Thank you for your patience.))

Alright, Fine. Sorry about that. You've made your point, I was just wondering what was up about it.

Anyway, now that the seer has been killed, we're kinda stuck, so it's about time we got the ball rolling. I don't trust that note, for two reasons: One, someone who's on the list would have had to made a really BIG mistake for that to happen, and considering your all reasonable competent players, that's not likely. Two, that note looks like it's trying to divide us by setting up those on the list against those not on the list. Taking these two facts, and comparing them with what I know lends me with the conclusion that Meynolds is most likely our final mafia member.

EK points at Meynolds

((And yikes... That was really twisted. Nice writing, Joosbawx.))

[Helgraf]

EK had a point. It bugged me like grit in my teeth, the kind you just can't seem to pry loose no matter how much you fiddle. My something's ugly bug had been acting up about this Meynolds; or maybe it was just the leftover throbbing of a scotch induced hangover. Either way was good enough for me; because if the magical knight was wrong, I was going to get on every horn I knew to bring him down next - and he knew it.

* Helgraf points at Meynolds *

[inky13112]

Inky is lying! I am, in fact, the quack. It is obviously true that Inky is mafia, and attempting (with more success than any of us want) to trick the townspeople to side with him! The only proof I can give is that after you lynch EK, Inky WILL NOT DIE over the night, but I WILL NOT PROTECT HIM. After that, the mafia will have an easy time mopping up the rest of you, and it will be too late. That's why he didn't want us to point at Krursk. He's also mafia.

Can I get an apology please?

Dang that sucks, not that I didn't expect it.

[Captain van der Decken]

Hey Inky, why didn't you contact me?

Aaaanyway. I'll agree with EK, and point at Meynolds.

[Space-Is-Curved]

Ooh... Sorry Inky. I'm the quack, so I really couldn't have done anything anyway...

Time to kill the mafia! POINT at MEYNOLDS

[Castaras]

The kitten runs through the ghostly crowds, shooting ghostly bullets at everyone ghostly.

[Joosbawx]

(( Gezina has been busy elsewhere. So while we all hope she is okay, I will declare that day will end today @ 3pm Central - 9pm GMT to keep things moving along. Four out of Seven have voted, so there already is a majority. If you haven't voted, or wish to switch your vote, now is the tie to do so. Sorry for the delay. ))

[Kyrian]

Death to Meynolds!

[Eldritch Knight]

Um... Seven? I'm quite certain there are 6 players, counting myself. Who's still around?

[InaVegt]

((Yes, there are 6, as we reached majority (with everyone except Meynolds voting, all of which at meynolds I think we can say meynolds is lynched)

I once again had the dreadful task of killing a possible good citizen of the village, people seemed to be sure this time. I decided to go old fashioned this time and took my beheading axe, a relic passed on by the generations. So I made it a quick one and after Meynold's head fell of quietly I looked through his posessions, I found a nice wooden hammer of which I wasn't sure what it was meant for, so I asked the others, apparently it was a judges hammer.

Meynolds, a Judge, has been lynched

[Joosbawx]

Um... Seven? I'm quite certain there are 6 players, counting myself. Who's still around?

(( You, sir, are absolutely correct! Post on first page updated. ))


-[ Night Begins Ends! @ 3pm Central - 9pm GMT Wednesday ]-

[Eldritch Knight]

Well now that sucks. I thought I had him for sure. Sorry everyone. That was a colossal mistake that probably just lost us the game.

@ Joosbawx..... Um? Begins? Don't you mean ends? or is there some reason for an extended dusk period?

[Helgraf]

Well that's it, EK. I gave you your chance. If the mafia don't murder me tonight, I'm going to be coming at you full tilt tomorrow like I should have done to begin with.

[Eldritch Knight]

And that's just it. If the mafia murders you tonight, it'll make me look HIGHLY suspicious, and if they don't murder you tonight, I'll be the one lynched tommorow, giving them free reign. I expect you to give a full account of the evidence against me before pointing.

[Joosbawx]

-:[ Night 7 Ends ]:-

This morning I woke and immediately knew something was wrong...well, even more wrong than it has been. There were no uniforms pounding on my door Moors trying to invade Jerusalem, no emergency phone call in the wee hours of the morning. In fact, I simply just woke up refreshed and peaceful...and that's when I knew it was all wrong. I hurriedly got dressed and walked out without even grabbing a cup of coffee, anxious and more nervous about what I'd find once I headed to work to clean up whatever the Patron of the Arts had left behind last night. Opening the door I yanked it shut behind me and stepped out into the hall. Like usual I heard it slam behind me; but, unlike usual, instead of my footfalls heading to the stairs I heard

*squish*.

Every ounce of dread I had since the moment I woke up crashed over my like waves on the Jersey Shore at that sound, the little hairs on the back of my neck standing at attention and my skin shrinking into goose flesh. Suddenly keenly aware of every single nerve ending my body possessed giving me a feeling of weightlessness in my clothes, my pulse quickened while time seemed to grind slowly to a halt like a wind-up toy with an over used spring; an eternity between heartbeats that gave me time to consider the absolute worst possible consequences of both turning around and beating feet to the stairs and phoning for backup from th e Bodega on the corner. Call it curiosity, or sense of duty, or just plain stupidity...but I turned around, immediately wishing I was more of a coward, or less of one...whichever it was.

The shifting of my weight made that noise again,

*squish*

and I tried to will my mouth to produce at least a single drop of saliva as I narrowed my eyes on the sight now before me. Standing in a puddle of blood that had permeated the carpet and turned it the clotted, rusty red that only human blood can produce. Then I smelled it, and raised a hand to my nose as I glanced away to steel myself to pull off the white sheet draped over the flat rectangular shape leaning against the hallway wall by my apartment door. Feeling my own gorge rise, it was then I saw the note taped to the door, immediately recognizing the handwriting. Tearing it from the wood without ceremony I hastily read it with equal parts curiosity and stalling, giving myself as much time as I could before I had to pull the gored sheet with the edge of a picture frame peeking out of one corner off what it was hiding. I read the note twice before I dropped it to the floor:

"You poor fools. You will all become part of my collection, and then the world shall know my name and tremble in terror! Victory shall be mine!"

The paper floated to the ground like a white dove circling a statue in Central Park, making two sweeping, graceful passes before falling to soak in the crimson wet contrast soaking the floor. Reaching forward...suddenly having to know, having to face whatever it was like pulling a bandage off quickly before the anticipation of the matter did more damage than the act itself...I tore back the sheeting, which felt heavy and unbalanced in my hands with the weight of the blood permeating its fibers.

I remember exhaling for what seemed like an eternity...like a silent scream so forceful it outran my voice and didn't stop until the little blue dots threatened to completely obscure my vision. Shock and horror and revulsion so keen it overrode my instinct to breathe. Stretched over the canvas frame was what I can only assume was human skin...with the face of Helgraf squarely in the center. Not a likeness of the Mason...but the actual visage of the man surrounded by gilded wood and bearing an illegible signature in blood. Turning on my heel I burst back through the apartment door heading first for the sink and then the phone. As I waited on the emergency dispatcher and considered my own bloody footprints leading from the hall to the kitchen I reached for a cigarette to kill the taste of bile in my mouth and poured myself two fingers of scotch for a bottle hidden on top of the cupboard. Today really was a day like no other.

Helgraf, a Red Ring Mason, was killed.

The End-Game is Here.

[Eldritch Knight]

Okay. I'VE BEEN HAD! I should have clued in from the beginning, but I was all to willing to trust him. I have three major bits of evidence to present against Space-is-curved, our final MAFIA member.

First, his voting habits have always mirrored mine, which is a good hiding place for a manipulating mafia member. Granted, I have been the one initiating the pointing, but I've always tried to discuss who is likely mafia members with the other players. I had PM'd both Decken and Space-is-curved with my suspicions of Meynolds, and of Kyrian. Decken is the only one who stated that Kyrian was innocent and trustworthy. Space-is-curved was MORE than willing to go along with my suspicions. What better way to influence a vote than reinforcing the already held suspicions?

Second, he seemed adamant that Inky and Helgraf were the last members of the Mafia. Why would he try to lynch the seer, when he stated it, and had it confirmed by OTHER players? It is likely that he was afraid of being scried and being fingered.

My third point regards this post of his:


Originally Posted by Space-Is-Curved
Inky is lying! I am, in fact, the quack. It is obviously true that Inky is mafia, and attempting (with more success than any of us want) to trick the townspeople to side with him! The only proof I can give is that after you lynch EK, Inky WILL NOT DIE over the night, but I WILL NOT PROTECT HIM. After that, the mafia will have an easy time mopping up the rest of you, and it will be too late. That's why he didn't want us to point at Krursk. He's also mafia.

I will point out that he was more than willing to let me be lynched at this point, and then essentially threatening the rest of the village. This strikes me as an attempt to shift the focus away from himself an onto me. After all, Inky had already admitted to being the seer, and had been vouched for, so why would he try to finger a confirmed seer as a member of the mafia? It all boils down to a last ditch effort to save himself.

Fourth, the fact that Helgraf was last nights target strikes me as an attempt at placing the sights on me. Let's face it, If Helgraf had lived, he was going to have me lynched, he stated so himself. Now, with him dead, it causes everyone to turn their eyes on me, even though that would have been the case anyway. Thus, Hypothetically speaking, Helgraf would have been a totally illogical target for me to select if I was a mafia member. On the same token, targeting Me would have rendered him the last person unknown, effectively ending the game by turning himself in. Thus, his ideal move would have been to force a scapegoat.

So it all boils down to this....

EK points at Space-is-curved

[Helgraf]

Pain. What seemed an eternity of pain rained down upon my nerves. Poets speak of a thousand knives in the nerves, of papercuts grown into gaping obscenties of wounds, and other such crap. I don't know about art. I just know that it hurt, and it kept hurting, til the pain was everywhere.

And then it stopped.

I drifted, blind and unfeeling, yet somehow knowing that I was in motion.

Finally, eyes opened. I shook my head in confusion - - where was I?

Scratch that. I knew where I was. How I got there was another question.

Lucky's Malt Shop. There wasn't anyplace else this could be. I knew the colours, the scents, the sensations and sounds better than any dame who'd ever graced my path.

And there, behind the counter, another impossibility. Lucky stood, cleaning a glass like he always did, looking like he'd never seen the bad end of himself and the very shop I stood in. He looked over, tossed me the wink, and poured a double malt.

I wandered over as I always had, still rubbing my head; all this thinking was giving me a headache. Just like when I'd been trying to hunt ...

What had I been trying to hunt?

The double malt stood before me, promising sweet warmth and blessed oblivion. Lucky smiled and nodded toward the glass.

"What the hell," I thought. Lucky's malts had always been the best. So I took it and I drank, and it was every bit as good as the very first one he'd ever made me.

I raised the glass and toasted him.

I had to be dead, but if I was, then I was free. And Lucky had always been a good bartender.

"Drinks up, boys," I murmured, and drained the glass...

[Eldritch Knight]

Nice writeup, Helgraf. Very nice. The only reason I hadn't tried to do anything like that is because I'm lazy. Maybe I will next time.

[Joosbawx]

(( APPLAUSE APPLAUSE for Helgraf!! I enjoyed that a LOT and it gave me a great idea for the last scene of the game. Kudos! ))

[Helgraf]

((*bows humbly* Think yew merry buch*))