Mafia 12 - 1932 - City of Sinners - Day 8

[Andre Fairchilde]

The ride up from the City was something out of a nightmare. Agent Fairchilde caught some kind of flu on the slow drive up to St. Paul. It was hard to concentrate with a pounding head, and a constant nausea.

His notes stated that most of the city was on the take, with the most common citizen was paid extensively to keep booze stills in their basements.
Before Prohibition the two cities - Minneapolis and St. Paul were tremendous beer producing cities, and the industry has kept right on going through the illegalization.
The St. Paul Police Department was on the take from hundreds of gangsters, money from kidnappings and bank robberies from all across the midwest were laundered here. A cozy agreement had been put in place 15 years ago stating St. Paul was an "open" city, the crooks had to check in somewhere and commit no crimes in the city limits.
But who? The FBI has no idea, and the St. Paul PD will not cooperate. Notes state that with the Bremer kidnapping, the SPPD was feeding daily briefing notes straight to the kidnappers... but nothing was ever substantiated. Rumor has it the Police Chief himself received 20% of the kidnapping take...
Minnesota and the midwest lead the country in Bank Robbery crime rates, due directly to the cesspool of St. Paul and it's "open" city policy. Crimes in Kansas City, and the money is found in St. Paul. A bank robbery in the rural Minnesota, and the money AND the bodies are found outside of St. Paul.
Now, word has it that the Outfit - out of New York and Chicago are muscling in to the local affairs. Three gangsters from the Outfit were found in a lake by the resort town of Little Canada.
Agent Fairchilde has all the intention of lifting some rocks in this cesspool, and rattling a few cages. The local FBI office are pretty good at what they do, but all their faces are known.
So, after a miserable drive up from the City, Agent Fairchilde is beginning to settle into his new office.

Welcome to Mafia 12 - 1932 - City of Sinners

Here is are the rules:

Spoiler

Show

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 – 48-72 hour day phases (comic updates notwithstanding) and 24-48 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.

We reserve the right to add more rules. Or have rules you don't know about. Not that we do, but we reserve that right. ;-)

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 - FBI (Good Guys). Traditional mason role.

Allied with the Citizens, Doctor (Baner), J. Edgar Hoover (Fool), and the Investigative Reporter (Scryer), but do not start out knowing who they are. The FBI does know all of its members. (Scry as Masons)

Winning the Game: The Masons win if they successfully eliminate both the SPPD and the Outfit.

Baner – Doctor.
May make one Bane attempt per night protecting a citizen from assassination.

Winning the Game: The Baner wins if they successfully eliminate both the SPPD and the Outfit. Allied with the Citizens, Investigative Reporter (Scryer), J. Edgar Hoover (Fool), and FBI, but does not start out knowing who they are. (Scries as Baner)

Seer or Scryer – Investigative Reporter
As the Seer you are allied with the Citizens. You may make one Scry a night and have 100% accurate results. Your win conditions are: Eliminating both groups of Wolves – SPPD and the Outfit. (Scries as Seer EVEN TO THE FOOL).

Fool – J. Edgar Hoover
Believes he/she is the Investigative Reporter (Scryer). Allied with the Citizens. You may make one Scry a night and have randomized results. They might be right, they might be wrong. Your win conditions are: Eliminating both groups of Wolves – SPPD and the Outfit.


The Citizens (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 the SPPD and The Outfit. The citizens are really in the game for themselves to survive, and score the Tomahawk. You may vote once per day phase to try to make this city a better place. You want to clean up the City and eliminate both the SPPD and the The Outfit. Allied with the FBI, Police Lieutenant, Investigative Reporter, and Cub Reporter, but knows none of these roles in advance. (Scry as Citizens)

Winning the Game: The Citizens win if they successfully eliminate both the SPPD Mob and the Outfit.




The Outfit

Out of town mobsters, gamblers, and killers.

The Outfit Boss - (Alpha). Sends in the nightly kills, or designates one of the other Outfit members to do so. (Scries as “Citizen”)

The Consigliore (Devil). 100% scry once per night. If he dies, The Outfit lose their ability to Scry. (Scries as " Outfit Devil”).

The Outfit Gangsters -
Standard wolf role, counting towards victory. (Scries as Outfit – Wolf)

Victory Conditions: Eliminate the SPPD and equal or outnumber the good guys (i.e. all Citizens/FBI/Attorney General/Investigative Reporter/J. Edgar Hoover) at the end of the game.

The Outfit 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 SPPD (Mafia):

The Chief
SPPD Alpha. Calls the hits, runs the city. (Scries as "Citizen")

Deputy Chief - SPPD Devil - 100% scry once per night. If he dies, the Mafia lose their ability to Scry. (Scries as “SPPD Consigliore”)

SPPD Coppers.
Standard wolf role, counting towards victory.
(Scries as “Mafia – SPPD”)

Mafia Victory Conditions: Eliminate the Outfit equal or outnumber the good guys (i.e. all Citizens/FBI/Attorney General/Investigative Reporter/J. Edgar Hoover) at the end of the game.

The SPPD 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.

Players:

1. Alarra
2. calar
3. Gray Mage
4. Helgraf
5. Internet Flea
6. Penguinator
7. The Fiery Tower
8. ThePhantom
9. The Grimmace
10. cd4
11. Grue Bait
12. Giant
13. Mustiado
14. sparkyinbozo
15. TsukikoJ
16. The Bushranger
17. Murska
18. RuneboundShade
19. Lord Loss
20. 52.5 Lemons
21. mangosta71
22. Xanmyral
23. Ramsus
24. TBFProgrammer
25. banjo1985
26. Fleeing Coward
27. Deathslayer7
28. billtodamax
29. bladescape
30. Hyozo
31. EmeraldRose
32. IXI_FatTony_IXI
33. Szilard
34. TigerFang
35. Zar Peter

Graveyard - Update coming soon, read the thread.

1. cd4 - Day 1 lynch - - Citizen
2. Grue Bait - SPPD Night 1 kill - Citizen
3. Giant - Day 2 Autolynch - FBI (Mason)
4. Mustiado - Day 2 Autolynch - SPPD Deputy Chief (Devil)
5. sparkyinbozo - Day 3 Lynch - FBI (Mason)
6. TsukikoJ- Day 4 Autolynch - SPPD Deputy Chief (Devil)
7. The Bushranger - Day 4 Autolynch - Citizen
8. Murska- Outfit Night 1 Abduction/kill - SPPD Chief
9. RuneboundShade - Day 4 Lynch - Citizen
10. Lord Loss- Day 3 Autolynch - Citizen
11. 52.5 Lemons - Day 5 Lynch - Outfit (Mafia)
12. mangosta71 - Night 2 Abduction - FBI (Mason) - Outfit victim
13. Xanmyral - Day 5 Autolynch - Citizen
14. Ramsus - Night 2 - Abducted by the Outfit - Investigative Reporter (Scryer)
15. TBFProgrammer - Day 6 Lynch (Citizen)
16. banjo1985 - Day 7 Lynch - Outfit (Mafia)
17. Fleeing Coward - Night 4 Abduction - Outfit Consigliore (Devil)
18. Deathslayer7- Night 4 Abduction - J. Edgar Hoover (Fool)
19. billtodamax - Day 7 Autolynch - Citizen
20. bladescape - Day 7 Autolynch - Citizen
    
    
    
    

***EDIT*** Night 3 ends on Nov 9th-ish

[Rogue Nine]

There's a knock on Fairchilde's door, and it slowly opens. Sheepishly peering in is another agent, but there is no way he was older than 20, 22 tops. Grasped precariously in his arms is a bursting clutch of file folders. He half-walks, half-stumbles into the room, at the same time trying to keep a hold on the files and close the door. He succeeds at neither, and embarrassingly introduces himself as he regathers the files.

"Er... hi. I mean, hello. I'm Agent Paxton. Kelly Paxton. But people 'round here usually call me Pax. I... uh... I mean to say the chief told me to pull these files for you to go over, sort of get a feel for the town, you know?" The folders back into a semblance of order, he sets them gently on the desk. "I'm supposed to shadow you for a few days until you get situated, so if there's anything you need, my desk is right out there in the main room."

[Penguinator]

Wandering down an alley, with his hat tipped down low over his face. He wore a roguish grin, and flipped a coin. Soon, he reached a fork in the road. He flipped the coin, this time waiting to see results.
Tails.
"Let's see where the road to the right leads..."

[IXI_FatTony_IXI]

The bars mostly empty, not many people kniow it's here and those that do dony usually descend into the bar until nightfall, but Anthony Kebell ('Fat Tony', to his 'friends') sat vigilant, money cant be earned if it's not worked for after all. Manning the bar.
a beer by his side, a sawn-off resting on his lap and his legs elevated on the bar, Tony pulls a pair of bonoculas up to his face.
He scans what little of the alley and street he can see through the moderatley sized windows, on the look of cops, and... people, people like the one standing at the fork, hat low about his eyes, what was he looking for, a drink? Or an arrest, his spare hand clutches the sawn-off, shaking hoping the man he's watching isn't a damned Fed, and that he doesn't turn right..

(Penguinator)

((Also, anyone feel free to drop on into the bar ))

[ThePhantom]

Phan T. Cisne sneaks into Fat Tony's little place. Coming here is sometimes a good idea, but not always. Hopefully, this is one of the good times.

(cd4)

[52.5 Lemons]

The random number generator commands I go with Billtodamax. The odds are obviously not in your favor.

[bladescape]

(RP to come up later. The Docks have now the live-in character from me.)

[Deathslayer7]

Murska for me.

[The Bushranger]

The doughnut and coffee shop opened for business. It was a bright and sunny day, marred only when Zar Peter tripped over a pigeon outside the store. The pigeon was unharmed.

[Penguinator]

The bars mostly empty, not many people kniow it's here and those that do dony usually descend into the bar until nightfall, but Anthony Kebell ('Fat Tony', to his 'friends') sat vigilant, money cant be earned if it's not worked for after all. Manning the bar.
a beer by his side, a sawn-off resting on his lap and his legs elevated on the bar, Tony pulls a pair of bonoculas up to his face.
He scans what little of the alley and street he can see through the moderatley sized windows, on the look of cops, and... people, people like the one standing at the fork, hat low about his eyes, what was he looking for, a drink? Or an arrest, his spare hand clutches the sawn-off, shaking hoping the man he's watching isn't a damned Fed, and that he doesn't turn right..

(Penguinator)

((Also, anyone feel free to drop on into the bar ))

As if on cue, the man turns to the right, looking up just long enough to notice the bar.
"Let's see if we should go inside..."

I've never voted for The Fiery Tower.

[cd4]

Cedric is rather bored, his contact said that they would meet a lot later but what to do in the meantime? He walks into Fat Tony's and notes Phan T Cisne (The Phantom) was already there. Rather than strike up a conversation he decided to drink the time away.

[EmeraldRose]

She stepped out of the hotel and shivered. October and it was already cold. Just last week it was in the 80s. Only Minnesota. She pulled on her thin leather gloves, adjusted the hat on her head, and headed up the street to the Pioneer Press. It was just possible they'd have an opening. She had to have some kind of work to do while she was here.

[Szilard]

Szilard was walking around muttering under his breath. Damnit. Why the heck am I in Minnisota! My fater was a doctor! I deserve better than this!

It was then when Szilard tripped and fell on Lord Loss.

[Ramsus]

He's long been sick of the cold and has found a recent lack of fondness for being wet at the same time. He can almost feel the dirt behind his ears and wonders how long it's been since he's had a bath. Looking around for somewhere warm he could just relax in for a bit, he instead finds more and more unfriendly strangers. He's wary of getting too close to any of them. He can even tell a few of them have guns. He's always been afraid of those. The flash and loud bang had always made him cringe. Then he spotted a place with its door slightly open down an alleyway few were walking down. It certainly didn't seem like a home but, didn't seem like a shop either. As he got closer he could smell the alcohol. He walked up and pushed the door farther open so he could get in. A few feet in the doorway he spotted the man with the gun behind the bar. He smelled of fear but, mostly alcohol. He looked the man in the eyes and barked.

((Don't think I've ever voted for The Bushranger day 1 before. Actually nevermind, someone has to have more than two votes on them or we won't have a lynch at all. *rolls* cd4 then.))

[TBFProgrammer]

((Ramsus and I are in too many games together, and he is above me. No time for RP at the moment.))

[Zjoot]

((Hey Tony, you mind if I RP a waiter or something at your bar?))

[sparkyinbozo]

Minnesota winters...argh, the temperatures of Montana with the humidity of Washington. Why did I come here two years ago, what makes me stay? The fellowship money's out, and I'm out a spot.

I don't know, but I'll be here until I know. And screw the rest of 'em, starting with that guy everyone's angry at.

(cd4)

[Xanmyral]

Yorik smiled as he took a deep breath of the brisk, cold air. Then coughed as the air was not the cleanest, nor the nicest smelling, but his smile never faltered. "Ahh... Home. How I love ya!" York said to himself loudly, drawing the gaze of a few people before they hurried on to where ever they were going. "Been away for faa-ar too long, my sweet. Now that I've got some cash, I think I'll celebrate. ... I wonder if that ol' hole-in-the-wall is still there." He said happily, and rather noisily, as he set off to try and see if he can remember where Kebell's bar is, and if it is still there.

(Sparkyinbozo, on account of being above me.)

[TFT]

((How about I point at sparkyinbozo because I've never seen him before))

[Helgraf]

Cold. Limb-freezing, soul-biting cold. The snow fell, and ash with it; and never to be certain which it was until it struck; the snow melting to water and seeping inward, the ash crumbling to sooty dust. Never to know which the pure and which the tainted. It didn't matter - too much purity killed just as much as too much corruption.

I walked the Minnesota streets, my boots crunching into the packing snow, leaving behind deep treaded imprints. The white slurry continued to fall from above; the angels danced to her mother tell it. Pop had rather more colourful euphemisms for it; provided of course the colour of choice was blue.

I shook hard for a moment when the wind settled down; a snowfall in miniature fell to the street from my hat and the shoulders of my coat. It struck the ground, gray against white, a tiny fragment of beauty sullied by my actions. That thought stung, reminding me all too keenly of New York and Chicago. New York was still mostly a blur ... one I'll probably never clear fully. Chicago, on the other hand, was still quite vivid in my mind.

It wasn't the first time. The way these things tended to go, it probably wouldn't be the last either. I closed my eyes for a moment; just long enough to recall the scent of the perfume, just long enough to torture myself with the memory before I shook my head violently from side to side and resuming crushing the snow underfoot as I made my way toward my destination.

I passed a bar. Oh, it didn't advertise the fact; but it didn't have to. When you've wasted as much of your life as I have in bars, you learn to recognize one. It wasn't Lucky's ... I'm sure if I looked hard enough in this city, I'd find a booze joint named Lucky's - it was like some sort of unwritten rule of cities ... but this wasn't that place. Indeed, the quick glance through the door as a patron went in set off something I hadn't felt in a while. Danger ... a palpable sense of peril. This was not the kind of bar I chose to drink at - but it was too often the kind of bar I ended up in.

I adjusted the red and black scarf to block the almost omni-present wind a little better. The scarf was too small by half, but then it hadn't been made for a thing like me, and even though it legally belonged to me ... I never thought of it like that.

Crunch ... crunch ... crunch.

A splash of color in the white and grey. Crimson. I sighed inwardly, eyes shifting to regard it a little closer.

Blood. Fresh, too, by the look of it. Definitely not what I wanted to be associated with right now. My boots carried me away and down a side road; where the drifting white piled higher; past my knees here, making it clear no street plow had even attempted to clear this way.

Thank goodness for the thermals under the pants. I figure as long as they don't soak up too much wet, they'll keep the worst of the cold away from my legs.

The door was olive ... or had been once. Time and weather had dulled the once vibrant shade; washed away its strength like most everything else in this city. I brought up an ice-rimed glove and pounded on the door, as much to shake the ice loose as to get the attention of the person within.

Finally, I could hear the sound of protesting metal followed by the satisfying thunk of a deadbolt sliding back. The door opened inward - slowly - revealing a small L-hallway with an overworked and abused desk at the corner. It also revealed the gorilla du jour squeezed into something that might be called formalwear if you stretched the definition as much as he stretched the waistline and the sleeves.

Him, I ignored. The wrinkled old man, nearly bald, just enough hair left to be embaressing, and a pair of liver splotches, one across his dome, the other across the left third of his face and aiding in the particularly dyspeptic expression he wore. A tiny pair of spectacles on a chain hung around his neck; this man I approached. A sawbuck on the desk turned by legerdemain into a room key. This I took, and headed down one hallway, dripping on the floor with every step, until I stood before the door. The key, at least, was good, turning in the lock on the first attempt.

Dive, sweet dive.

((Fleeing Coward because if somebody else doesn't, he'll do it to himself.))

[Murska]

I would point at Sparkyinbozo for bandwagoning but he's a new player plus then I'd be bandwagoning as well.

Therefore, I'll point at Ramsus because he wants someone to be killed, which is barbaric and wrong.

[Ramsus]

It's not wrong though. By every explanation I've ever seen failing to lynch someone day 1 is a bad plan. It might be barbaric but, then again I'm roleplaying a dog.

[Murska]

Yeah, I'm of the opinion that a no-lynch on day one is not a good idea. However, it still doesn't mean we should randomly pick a person and bandwagon him - that gives us almost as little information, basically the only thing that's added is one person's role.

A bunch of wagons and discussion is best.

[Ramsus]

I wholly agree, except when one of the wagon options is me.

[billtodamax]

Ramsus then.

[banjo1985]

I didn't like rain at the best of times, but add in a biting cold and flesh tearing breeze and the City welcomed me with my own little version of hell. I jammed my hat down on the old noggin, wrapped my old trenchcoat around me, and charged out of the train station. I needed to get undercover, anywhere would do.

Just my luck. The first place I see is a bar. Nothing like a good throat-burner to forget the rain. It's when you hit a dozena nd carry on going that it becomes a problem, believe me.

I ran in and composed myself just inside the door, eyes adjusting to the gloom of the place. It stank of cigar smoke, and a faint hint of jazz music filtered up the narrow staircase to where I stood. I'd been in so many bars like that I could'a been anywhere; Chicago, Detroit, New York, heck even Philly. That's what I liked about it, I coudl pretend it wasn't raining outside or in my mind, and that I was somewhere I actually wanted to be.

Anywhere but here, with the mafia calling the shots and me owing too many debts to the wrong kind of folks.

"Forget that Charlie, ya wastin' good drinkin' time."

I shrugged off my coat, threw it over my shoulder, and headed downstairs.

((Welcome back point at Hyozo ))

[EmeraldRose]

((THANK YOU CEIKA!!! ))

She paused on her chilly walk to the paper, noting that once again there were people wandering the streets talking to themselves. Why did the crazies always flock to the Cities?

((Xanmyral))

[calar]

Banjo1985, for the random.

[Alarra]

I will rp, but today is crazy, and I wanted to make sure I got a point in at least before I didn't have time to. So, Szilard

[Zar Peter]

As Alarra said but I point at Mustiado, because Invisible Castle told me so.