Mafia V Mk II - Return of the Narrator (Awards show!!!)

[Andre Fairchilde]

The city was oppressive, loud and noisy. Agent Fairchilde came into town on the government’s expense, which meant the cheapest ways to travel. He brought with him two changes of clothes, $18 in expense money to live on for two weeks, his service revolver, and 24 extra rounds of ammunition. He also had his FBI badge, and his charge from the director – “Clean up that city!”

They knew he was coming before he even left. The city was owned by so many puppet-masters and fixers that the city was crisscrossed with webs of influence; you couldn’t even pay a parking ticket in this town without paying three bribes.

Agent Fairchilde came by train, and arrived as the rush hour commuters were all trying to board their rides home. The steam from the trains evaporated in the throngs of people – as the cold fall air hurried the crowds on just a bit faster. The crowds were motivated to go home to their wives, their kids, and their illegal booze.

Suddenly shots broke out in the terminal! Fairchilde grabbed for his gun – “My bag! It’s in my bag!” He grabbed his briefcase, checked his watch for the time – 5:17 PM - and ran to the gun shots.

It was not hard to see the body – the crowd parts for the occasional corpse, even in this town. It’s not every day the commuters see the underbelly of the city in broad daylight.

As he approached, he heard “…shot him and took some package!” and “…ran over there…”

He approached the body, the man was still alive...

“Back away G-Man… that’s a City matter that is.” Fairchilde looked up to see two local coppers rushing up to offer aid to the man – and to claim their territory as well.

This was their town. This was their body, and in a sense - legally this was their case….

As the coppers attend to the man, he dies – his last words “…the Falcon….”

Joosbawx dies.

Of course, nothing in this town operates strictly by the law.

Day One Begins.
.

Game over! See the awards show!!!
Please remember to post your votes in RED, thanks. Remember to strike out any changes.
Points at Narrators do not count as votes.
Autolynches will be performed at two days.

Current List of Players (33) (30) (26) (23) (22) (20) (19) (18) (17) (14) (12) (11) (10) (9) (8) (6)
Alarra - Templar - Killed by Shadow Agents
Almighty Salmon - Good Citizen - Autolynched
Androgial - Good Citizen - Autolynched
Atreyu the Masked Llama - Lover - Sam Spade
Crystall Myr Shadow Agent - Killed by Templars
Cult of the Raven
CurlyKitGirl - Templar Neonate - Killed by Shadow Agents
Eldritch Knight - Lover - Effie
EmeraldRose - Upright Citizens Brigade - Citizen, Good
Emporer Demonking
Endeavourl- Upright Citizens Brigade / Shadow Recruit - Agent, Evil - Lynched
evnafets - Upright Citizens Brigade / Shadow Recruit - Agent, Evil - Lynched
Fleeing Coward - Citizen, Good - Killed by Shadow Agents
Freshmeat - Citizen, Good - Killed by Shadow Agents
Helgraf The Mole - RIP - Killed by the Templars
HyramGraff - Good Citizen - Lynched
Jontom Xire - Templar Knight- Lynched
Khaldan Shadow Agent - Autolynched
Korias - Templar Marshal - Killed by the Shadow
Kyrian - Good Citizen - Autolynched
Malmagor Andrigal - Good Citizen - Autolynched
North
radikalskippy Good Citizen - RIP - Killed by the Shadow Agents
Raiser B1ade
Raldor - Upright Citizens Brigade - Citizen, Good
S.Hadow Good Citizen - RIP - Killed by the Shadow
Supagoof
Timberwolf - The Brain (Shadow Agent) - Lynched
Traveling Angel
Trix - Fanboy (Originally a Citizen, Good) - RIP - Killed by the Templars
Vonriel Fanboy - RIP - Killed by the Shadow
whitehelm
Zar Peter - Good Citizen - Lynched


THE RULES:[/CENTER]

The Maltese Falcon Returns (a.k.a. Mafia V)

This game is mostly born out of Joosbawx' love of Film Noir, hard-boiled detective stories, and the genre films and novels like The Maltese Falcon exemplify. The rules are close to Classic Werewolf, but I've decided to put in a bit of a twist, so please familiarize yourself with the following and come back as often as you need for reference sake. The object of the game, beyond simple survival, is to obtain the Maltese Falcon for yourself or benefit of your faction. Therefore, there are multiple ways to win the game; depending upon which faction the player belongs.

Co-Narrators: Andre Fairchilde & Joosbawx

Gameplay Notes
------------------
Since the individual object of the game is to obtain the Maltese Falcon, this means that one Citizen cannot implicitly trust another Citizen as s/he may have an ulterior motive in targeting another individual with a lynching vote. At the beginning of the game the Maltese Falcon is randomly given to one player. If and when that player is killed, the Maltese Falcon moves to the individual or group responsible for that player’s death.

Example 1: 'Player A', a Citizen, has the Maltese Falcon. S/he is killed by the Shadow Agents or Templar Knights during the night. The Maltese Falcon is then randomly assigned to one of the members of the faction responsible for that death. There will usually be some evidence left behind that would indicate that the deceased was in possession of the Maltese Falcon at time of their demise.

Example 2: 'Player A', belonging to any faction, has the Maltese Falcon. S/he is voted against and lynched by 'popular vote'. At time of death, the Maltese Falcon will be obtained by the player that started the bandwagon against 'Player A'. Day game play consists of finding out who was killed, the District Attorney protecting someone from lynching, and finger pointing by the general population for a 'lynching'.

NEW!!! In case of autolynch of the player with the Falcon, the holder of the Falcon will NOT be identified, but the Falcon will pass to a random player pointing in the same day phase as the autolynch. Best not to autolynch, and best to point every day!!!

Night game play consists of the District Attorney protecting someone from death, kills by both the Templar Knights and the Shadow Agents, scries or recruitment attempts by the Templar Knights and the Shadow Agents, the scry or kill by The Shadow, the Mole using their ability to hide the true role of one player, the Private “Eye” and The Patsy.

Anytime the person holding the Maltese Falcon is killed the Maltese Falcon is transferred to the person or group responsible for their death. Killing the player holding the Maltese Falcon is the only way to transfer ownership.

Recruitment - When one of the two factions with recruiting ability attempts to recruit a player, that player is sent a PM from the narrator and given the choice to join or refuse the organizations offer. If the player accepts the offer they join the Knights Templar or Shadow Agents as a ‘Neonate/Recruit' for the remainder of the game. A player may only be recruited once per game. If a player refuses a recruitment offer by either faction they can still accept an offer made at a later date; however, the faction attempting the recruitment loses the ability to scry that night in lieu of their recruitment attempt, just as if they had recruited successfully.

Characters Exempt from Recruitment: The Shadow, The Fan Boy, any member of Templar Knights, any member of Shadow Agents, the Private “Eye”, and The Patsy. If one of these characters is approached for recruitment the faction making the attempt will simply be informed the player refused, and the player will be informed they were approached with a recruitment offer.


Knights Templar
The "Cult" returns, this time wearing the vestments of the Knights Templar. The Holy Order of Knights...or Un-Holy, depending on whom you believe...are not extinct. Their goal is to increase their numbers, and, most importantly, recover the gift they intended for the King of Spain before it disappears again...The Maltese Falcon. They are led and recruited by the Templar Marshall who is identified (at death) by the signet ring s/he wears.

Templar Knights carry nothing to betray their faction when killed.

Templar Neonates, or those recruited during the course of the game by Templars, are not as indoctrinated as the older members and may reveal the name of one other Templar when threatened with death...so be careful whom you recruit.

Templar Oracle
The Knights are aided in their quest by the Templar Oracle who has the ability (75% chance) to divine the role of anyone else; however, due to the extensive indoctrination rituals, the Oracle cannot scry on any night the Knights indoctrinate a Neonate. The tenets of the Order of the Knights Templar strictly prohibit anyone from intentionally revealing their membership upon penalty of death.

Winning the game: The Knight Templar win if they successfully eliminate the entire Shadow Agency and obtain the Maltese Falcon, or if their numbers equal the number of non-Templar Knights players.

Templar Marshall - "Master/Alpha Mason". Gives Templars ability to recruit Neonates. Scries as: Templar - Evil.

Templar Oracle - "Mason Seer". Able to scry and discern role of anyone each night, except on night when Templar Knights recruit Neonate. Can see if target currently holds Maltese Falcon. Scries as: Oracle - Evil.

Templar Knight - Mason"". Scries as: Templar - Evil.

Templar Neonate - "Mason Recruit" . May reveal name of one other Templar if put to death. Scries as: Templar - Evil.

Shadow Agents
This extensive network of Agents hold allegiance to no one but themselves and their leader, known only as The Fat Man. Each member of the Shadow Agents is hand-picked by The Fat Man, who has the ability to bring in Shadow Recruits; however, like the Templar Neonates, they are not as seasoned as their Agent counterparts and may fold under pressure if threatened with death. The Brain works hand-in-hand with The Fat Man and has the ability (75% chance) to perceive the role of anyone else; however, due to the extensive background checks that must be performed on any Recruit, The Brain cannot scry on any night the Shadow Agents recruit. All Shadow Agents are under strict orders to eliminate any member that intentionally reveals their true allegiance to anyone outside the organization, upon penalty of death.

Winning the Game: The Shadow Agents win if they successfully eliminate the entire Order of the Knights Templar and obtain the Maltese Falcon, or if their numbers equal the number of non-Shadow Agent players.

The Fat Man - "Mafia Don/Alpha". Gives Shadow Agents ability to obtain new Recruits. Scries as: Agent - Evil.

The Brain - "Mafia Seer". Able to scry and discern role of anyone each night, except on night when Agents recruit. Can see if target currently holds the Maltese Falcon. Scries as: The Brain - Evil.

Shadow Agent - "Mafia". Scries as: Agent - Evil.

Shadow Recruit "Mafia Recruit". May reveal name of one other Agent if put to death. Scries as: Agent - Evil.

The Citizens 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 Shadow Agents and Knights Templar...if, you know, you actually believe in that sort of myth and legend. The Citizens are the pool of potential members the Shadow Agents and Knights Templar may recruit...unless, of course, the Templars or Agents accidentally try to recruit each other. The citizens are really in the game for themselves to survive, and score the Maltese Falcon for themselves if possible, or align themselves with an underground faction if they are approached and choose to join.

Winning the Game: The Citizens win if they successfully eliminate both the

Knights Templar and The Shadow Agency. Additionally, a citizen can score a personal win (and a cool signature award!!!) if survive holding the Maltese Falcon at the end of the game.

The Private “Eye” - "Seer". Has completely accurate ability to discern the role of anyone in the game. Scries as: Private “Eye” - Good. Cannot be recruited.

The Patsy - "Fool". Has 25% chance of accurately discerning the role of anyone in the game. Scries as: Private “Eye” - Good. Cannot be recruited.
District Attorney "Baner". Has ability to us her/his influence to protect any player each day and night from lynching or attack. This role has to send in a PM for Joosbawx for each game day and game night. This role can NOT be recruited by the Templars or Agents. Scries as: District Attorney - Good.

The Mole - "Illusionist/Witch". Has the ability to alter the perceived role of any player when investigated by the Oracle, The Brain, The Patsy, or the Private “Eye”. If target is scried, the role defined by The Mole will be the role perceived. Scries as: The Mole - Good/Evil (if recruited successfully).

Citizen - "Villager". Scries as: Citizen - Good.

Sam Spade & Effie "The Lovers". The Lovers play together and win if they survive the game. If either lover is lynched or attacked, the other Lover is killed also, regardless of faction membership. Lovers are recruited independently, but still remain Lovers. Scries as: Lover - Good.

The Shadow - Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men? The Shadow knows. This role is special, and stands for Truth, Justice, and the Citizen Way. In this character's eyes anyone can be corrupted...except The Shadow. Therefore, nobody is to be trusted...except The Shadow. Nobody can bring the wrongdoers to justice...except The Shadow. This character acts outside the law in order to destroy all Evil. As a result, he is wanted by both sides of the law and cannot reveal his identity under pain of death to anyone. This character cannot be recruited. The Shadow has three special abilities, and may choose to use either one on any night s/he chooses.

Six times during the game The Shadow may use her/his super-sleuth ability with 100% accuracy to determine any player's alignment...Good or Evil. Secondly, The Shadow has six bullets with which to dispense Justice to those s/he deems as Evil. Thirdly, The Shadow has the ability to protect someone from attack during the night...much the same as the District Attorney. The Shadow may choose to investigate, kill, protect, or do nothing, and must send PM to Joosbawx each game night.

Alternatively, The Fan Boy believe s/he is The Shadow and has all the same abilities, but simply isn't and doesn't. The Fan Boy acts as though s/he is The Shadow, but, due to the lack of super-sleuth ability and training of any (real) kind, The Fan Boy has only a nominal chance of doing any real good at all...except for helping to hide the real Shadow, perhaps. Due to the obsessive nature of this character, s/he, when scried, shows as The Shadow, also.

Winning the Game: The Shadow wins if s/he survives the game and both the Templar Knights and Shadow Agency are eliminated.
The Shadow - "?????". Scries as: The Shadow.
FanBoy "anti-?????". Scries as: The Shadow.

NEW – Let’s see who’s paying attention - there is another hidden organization representing the “Fix is In” for the city. NEW

[EmeraldRose]

As Agent Fairchilde looks up from across the body, he sees a figure approaching him from across the terminal...

...it appears to glide gracefully across the pavement, the crowds not even touching it. Closer, the figure comes to the G-Man...until...

*SLAP*

So. You've come back. I can't say that I'm surprised, or noticably pleased to see you. While you're in my town, do your best to stay away from me. Otherwise, you'll be having a visit from my lawyer.

As she turns and walks away, there is a glimmer of tears in her eyes...

[CurlyKitGirl]

Quick echoing shots blasted a concussion of pure sound right next to me. Flinching wildly I ran from the man in front of me, seeing as I did so that he was taking a bag off the dead man.
Rounding a corner of the station I huddled next to the wall rocking gently. I was completely deaf. Not a sound reached me, I could see people screaming and running; I knew that I should be hearing feet pounding the cold, slick granite floor. All sound was absent, leaving me stranded in a world of pure silence and complete, pure terror. Sliding to the floor I curled up in a fetal postion and stared at my clothes.
My torn, grimy, blood and bone encrusted clothes. I was wearing a dead man. I was wearing death. I screamed. I know I screamed but I couldn't hear it. I screamed until I was hoarse.
And they were staring at me. The not-noise had halted the fleeing herd of commuters and drenched the panic. They were staring at me so hard and with so much fear that I gave in to my emotions and confusion.
I ran, tears streaming down my face, pastered in death. I knew that They would want me. A filth-encrusted kid wearing blood like it was a badge and running away.
I wasn't ever going to be safe again.

[Traveling_Angel]

Another day, another virus. I was one of the few hackers with semi-good intentions around here. Not that most people know that. I was supposedly in three cartels at the moment, one of which was going to go belly up next week. I had sold out an number of my buddies to their enemies, but that wasn't unusual. I was the one part of the group guaranteed to get away.

Now, I knew that the FBI was sending an agent, but what a way to enter the area. Unfortunately, I have strange hearing. If the Falcon was around, then all hell was going to break lose...

[Eldritch Knight]

The Falcon. It had crossed my path before, and I barely walked away alive. I found myself mired in a net of treachery and deceit, hoisted upon my own petard. I had a plan, foolproof, or so I thought. I made a deal, and joined an organization, wanting to destroy it from within so that the prize would be mine, and mine alone. My partner in the scheme joined a rival organization, presumably with the same goal. That lying SOB gunned me down in a cold, dank alleyway, gloating over my defeat. "You idiot. You thought you could doublecross me? The falcon is mine now. I thank you for your help. Good night. You won't wake up again. *BANG*" What he didn't know is that I was prepared for his treachery and had sent in a patsy to take the fall for me. He had never seen my face, so I thought I was safe. I thought wrong. The feds caught wind of my scheme, and drilled me for every scrap of information I had. When they were finished, they threw me in the pen. That was 15 years ago. Why I came back to this city again, I don't know. I was lucky then, but I don't know if my luck will hold out again.

[Freshmeat]

Freddy entered the terminal in a hurry, though he knew there was no more need for any haste. The man he was to meet lay dead on the terminal floor, his blood conjoining with whatever dirt the ground was littered with. And the package he must have had with him was of course gone by now.

The sounds of gunshots was something you'd almost get used to after living in this town for so long, yet this time, the dreadful notes of death seemed to echo for just a little longer. Although history had proven them wrong time and again, this was the type of moment people were fond of describing as 'a herald of change'. Freddy knew it to be the kind that only ended in bloodshed.
He had read the papers, picked up the change of pace that seemed to drive this urban graveyard. The fair citizens of this town were sick of all the violence, of all the corruption, of all the killings in broad daylight - such as the one that just transpired at the terminal.

Wiping some dirt from his trenchcoat, Freddy joined the throng of bystanders. Although his mind told him not to get involved, his eyes and ears were merely playing on his sense of justice, providing him with just the type of thing he expected, perhaps even wanted to hear.
There was no more defaitism. No more tolerance. These antique notions had moved over and made way for whispers of outrage and revoked apathy. It's the type of reaction that often sent men to their graves, but combined - it could change the very fate of what, to them, must seem like the entire world.
A tiny spark can ignite an entire depot of explosives, and to say these citizens had been on edge for the past couple of weeks would be quite the understatement.

Perhaps it was exactly that naïve zealousness that distinguished the common man from those that were part of whichever crazy cult or crime syndicate that was currently running the town. The distinction between hope and fact, between good and evil, between illusion and reality. Out with the old and in with the new was the motto, but it seemed surprisingly appropriate for an epitaph as well.

Freddy had seen enough. He left the terminal, his hands moving like an automaton and litting a cigarette as he did so.
In the events to come, it was all a matter of finding one's place - and to Freddy it seemed like as good a time as any to do his part in cleaning up this town. Blood would flow, and if it was up to him, he wouldn't mind having some of it on his own hands, if that was what it would take.

He had a few suspicions of his own. Wasn't Zar Peter involved in some shady operations a few years ago? It seemed like a good enough place to start.
Following whatever leads he considered reliable and tracing them right up to the top, until this entire town would be thrown into anarchy.
No matter. The ends would justify the means. Order is born of chaos, and if reshaping this town meant breaking down the pillars of old - corruption and vice - he would gladly do so.

Whether by instigating the common citizens to murderous acts, or by being the hand that delivers death, slaughtering all those that stood in his way. Or perhaps now was the time to use corrupt means to noble ends, undoing (or maybe even redoing) all creation by means of manipulation, deciding upon life and death on a daily basis.
Playing God in what must be the cesspit of all humanity.

Freddy sighed. The fire that was going to rage throughout this town would leave none unscathed.

[Zar Peter]

The jobless pianoman waited for a train in central station

"Can not play piano they said. And has no voice they said.And they wanted 50% of my tipps! HA! There are enough towns around here who recognice a good piano man when they see one."

Suddenly he heard the shooting.

"Wait, wasn't that Agent Fairchild? And he ran this way. Let's see, where he goes trouble isn't far away"

Then suddenly he see's someone pointing at him.

"What do you want? I think you must confuse me with someone, maybe with this guy over there"

Points at endevourl

[Raiser Blade]

Eddy the newspaper boy sighed. What was he gonna tell his dad now.

Peddling home on his bike he reflected on what he had seen happen at the train station. It wouldn't be as bad if this was a one time thing but this was the norm in this wretched town.

Walking into his home he was relieved to see his father passed out on the couch. Ever so quietly he crept upstairs to his room. After changing he crept downstairs again.

Riding off to hang out with "the guys" he wondered who the man in the suit was.

[Shadow]

blatantly copied from the last thread.....
Finally.
Finally I've made it.
Bus rides always did get me sick. Especially the long ones. And this one had been as long as the Great Wall them ******** have, as far as I was concerned.
So now I'm here. Back where it all started for my daddy. And where it all ended. Badly I might add. He got what he deserved, or at least that's what the papers said.

Funny how a local celebrity like Silas Hadow could've fallen on hard times like that.
Silas Hadow.
My daddy.
A no good, worthless reporter turned celebrity, thought dead, returned from the grave to try his hand at being a bit of a private ****. That worked out well from what I hear. For about a day and a half. Bouncing from job to job like a pinball after his return, he ended up with some sort of Agency, they say. Some sort of gangster is more like it. Sure, he sent a check to moms every once in a while. Sure, he wrote me a letter or two over the years before he was killed. But what did those ever get me?

They got me here, that's what. Back to this hellhole where it all started for him. That's right. Daddy knew who had the Falcon, and he told me too, in those letters. Now if I could just keep my head clear long enough to find it....

And so now I'm here. Looking for the Falcon just like my no good daddy. Cuz he never left me nothin' that I could eat. Nothin' that I could sink my teeth into. Nothin' but a legend and a promise of fortunes beyond my wildest dreams.
I don't know. I can dream a whole lot of fortune.

My sponsor tells me to stay away from the big city in the night. Stay in. Too much temptation if you're out on the street with those big, bright neon signs guiding you home like....
Stop thinking like that, fool. That's what got you in that mess back in Wyoming.

Go get a cup'a joe and clear my head. That's what I need. A cup'a joe and a smoke.
A smoke and a place to crash. A pace to crash and a clue where to start looking for this Falcon.
After I find that.... well.... then maybe I'll have a drink. You know.... in celebration, like.

Damn fool. Quit thinkin' like that....

[Timberwolf]

I walked along the length of the mean streets, hair tucked into the collar of my raincoat. Normally, I'd be glad of the attention that long blonde hair would get me, but not tonight. Tonight I didn't want to be fending off men with a stick. I just wanted to be alone.

A car drove by, sending a gust of air that blew the coat and my dress around my legs. Not a Monroe job thankfully, the coat was too heavy for that. But it could have been. I raised my tiny middle finger at the driver and walked on. Once again, being short had gotten me absolutely nowhere. He probably couldn't even see me.

As I enjoyed my solitude, my thoughts began to drift. The Falcon was back in town. And it had brought with it the usual riff raff. The Shadow, the Templars and the Agents. What was it with that thing ? Why was it so important ? I had seen it once, years ago. It was rather unimpressive for all the blood that had been spilt for it. Just a small statuette of a bird. Sure it was valuable, to a collector maybe, but I wouldn't want it on my shelf. The chances of being killed for it were too good. And now it was back. I knew one thing. It was going to get hairy.

[Crystall_Myr]

Noise, noise, noise, noise... make the noise stop. Wait, that's my alarm clock! My arm snapped out in an attempt to turn it off as fast as possible, but only succeeded in knocking it of the desk. After a short struggle, I gave up trying to hit the tiny off button and just unplugged the thing, and proceeded to get ready for yet another dreary day.
Clothes, check. Boots, check. Trench coat... sure, why not? Gun, check. Ammo, check. Pocket knife, check. Wallet, check. I was ready, hopefully. After unlocking three separate locks on my door (you need that many in this place), I stepped outside, to greet the new day.

Of course, that's never how it really works, more like the new day greets you. Today its warm welcome was in the form of a splash of muddy water from your average speed-limit breaker. Fun. Of course, that wasn't the only thing today had to offer - not even close. Rumors were in the air, not that that was anything new; but these rumors were different. People spoke of bloodshed, and of riches beyond imagination. Nice - there's nothing like corpses and cash to spice up your life.

I made my way to where the real crowd was. Most would have been hard-pressed to see anything, with the people so thick, but once again, my height came to my advantage. There were cops, plenty of them, and a body as well. I picked a few rumors off the air, the man had a package stolen from him. A small one, presumably with something quite valuable in it. Pretty intense; maybe enough interesting enough to make getting up worth it today.

Heh, We'll see about that.

[androgial]

It was good to come back to what you know, where you know where you stand. True attending a Presidential dinner was a rare treat for anyone, but then again those of the unwashed masses wouldnt appreciate such fine and stimulating conversations. Me well I am James Dominicus Percival Forthwright III esquire, and I just happen to be The lawyer of choice for the wealthy of this city. As i stepped out of the first class cabin section of the train, I saw the police stepping around a crime scene, which isnt very unusual. But the rumor that floated over to my ears was. It was back. It didnt take a genius to know, things were going to get vrey bloody very fast. I took my car out of the secured lot and drove back to my office. Maybe i could meet with her at the rose garden for lunch. She might need a consultaion anway, since she just slapped him in front of everyone.

[Cult_of_the_Raven]

I'd heard there was trouble at the station this morning, but I wasn't about to let that stop me from opening up my shop like normal. Even though I worked a little private eye in my spare time didn't stop me from running my little coffee hut/bookshop. It was a homey little joint, and I liked it. I unlocked the door and pulled the string on the neon "open" sign, watching the light flicker on before bustling over to the register to start the pots and ready the register. Golden, the barcat, purred and greeted me just like normal. nothing ever changes in this town, least of all the cats. Golden could care less whether or not somebody died at the station today, so long as he still got fed. He prowled the bar as I filled his dish and got the morning stuff ready. Then a customer came in - one who was at the scene today. I was filled in on all the juicy details of the murder. Joosbawx was dead, and someone had taken something from him.
"I wonder who did it, Miss Raven?"
"I don't know, John, but I bet that that Mr. Freshmeat had something to do with it. I just got a feeling from him, you know?
Golden jumped up on the bar and meowed, and I went on with my day.

[Skippy]

((I still don't know what to RP this time. Just assume I'm here, ok?))

[whitehelm]

I point at Zar Peter. Hey you! You wanna job?

[Emperor Demonking]

"Whitehelm jumping on a bandwagon how suspicious." Says the paranod Emperor.

[Jontom Xire]

I woke up. Damn. Ah well, better make the best of it I could. As I walked through the streets I caught the buzz, heard the murmurs. Something was up. I could feel it, the excitement, the fear, the anticipation, emanating from the crowds like a warning siren. Most wouldn't pick up on it, but that's me. Rumours are my business. Well information really, but sometimes rumours will do if you spice them up with a dash of information - or downright lies.

For a moment I considered heading to Lucky's. That was where I did most of my business, both buying and selling, and sometimes just keeping my ears open I got a lot of information for free. But my feet were on automatic, walking a familiar groove like they had a life of their own. Pretty soon I was there. Not many people knew I came here, which made it a private place, as private as it could be, and certainly more private than my flat which was almost a public house. Everyone knew where I lived and would come and knock on my door all hours of day and night, looking for answers. And I would give them answers. Not necessarily the right answers, but if they paid I could hardly not give them answers, could I?

So Raven's was where I was. Just for a short while, a coupl'a cups of good black coffee to wake me up and then I could go to work, find out what it was had this city all abuzz, like a hive of bees that's been stirred with a stick. I got myself a cup of mud and found myself an out of the way unobtrusive seat. And damn me if the next second another customer came in and started chatting with the proprieteress, telling her all the news, all the rumours, and in the process filling me in on all the info that might have taken an hour of pounding the streets to find out, and all while I was a snug as a bug in a rug in a comfy armchair in a warm coffee shop. The Falcon was back and that was good and bad. Good news for my business, bad news for my health. The dame behind the desk reckoned Freshmeat was a likely lad for the crime, but I wasn't so sure. I liked to keep an open mind. An open mind catches more thoughts as my Pappy used to say. In my cases it was opinions I wanted to catch; other people's. Other peoples opinions were my stock in trade, sometimes worth more than facts. So I figured I'd have a few more cuppas and then hit the streets, sniffing out information like a bloodhound on the trail of an aniseed thief, then head over to Lucky's and see what business I could drum up.

[Fleeing Coward]

I don't know why I came here, this place just seemed to call to me. Perhaps this is the place where I finally meet my destiny, perhaps here in the urban jungle I can finally rest in peace.

((Points at self, only joined this game to get lynched on day 1 again like the one that got cancelled so let's get it over with))

[Emperor Demonking]

"What if that no good coward has the." The paranoid Emperor ."you know what, then we'll never find it."

[Jontom Xire]

I don't know why I came here, this place just seemed to call to me. Perhaps this is the place where I finally meet my destiny, perhaps here in the urban jungle I can finally rest in peace.

((Points at self, only joined this game to get lynched on day 1 again like the one that got cancelled so let's get it over with))

(( So why did you bother joining it if you want to get lynched? What's with you, FC? This isn't the only game you're doing this in and frankly it is a little irritating. JX points at Fleeing Coward. ))

[Fleeing Coward]

I'm in if a first day sacrificial lamb is needed.
((Just thought it'd get the game to the point where it was cancelled last time. Abit stupid now that I think about it. This one I joined purely to get lynched, other one was because I can't seem to find the time to play it with all the complex roles, etc.))

[Alarra]

Time had passed, things had changed. Whether it was enough or too little to make a difference was hard to say. I stood, motionless in the midst of the thronging crowd, knuckles white on the handle of my small suitcase, the leather bag slung over my shoulder clasped in a death grip as well. I'd felt the shift as soon as I'd stepped off of the train. The heavy, oppressive air closing in on me, making breathing a chore. It was too soon. I'd made a mistake. I shouldn't have come back here, Falcon or no.

As I stood in the crowd, my mind was flooded with images of my last fateful trip. Frantically pushing my way through crowds of people to deal with the incompetent brass that had sequestered away her body. A criminal, they'd called her. Part of a shadowy network, undermining the very integrity of the city. They'd never known her. They couldn't have understood.

And then the days of red tape, the pain and hassle of moving the body home, the mourning, the grief, our mother, unable to leave her bed for weeks for the pain.....and now, here I was. Returning to this scene, taking up her mantel, knowing the pain and worry that my family would feel if my fate wound up the same as hers, yet unable to take any other action.

"Hey! Move it blondie!" A particularly rough jostle from behind struck me from my reveries.

"My apologies." I nodded, as courteously as I could. I didn't belong here. I moved on, riding on the crowd, dazed and alone. There was a break in the throng, an empty circle where cops pushed the gawkers back from a body. Morbidly curious, I slipped to the front of the onlookers to see the man. It was no one I knew. Of course it wouldn't be. I could count the people I knew in this city on one hand. Just another poor bloke, probably in the wrong place at the wrong time.

I turned to go. This death didn't involve me. It was then, as I was moving toward the door that the whispers penetrated my consciousness. He had the falcon. I spun to find the source of the voice, but the crowd just continued to blur into one another. My mind raced. The falcon already? I'd been in town less than a minute and I already had a dead body and a rumor to follow up on. I guess I should have been pleased. It isn't often that such clues fall into your lap. But I wasn't. I was tired and worn down and the stress of this hunt was going to be more than I could handle.

I knew I should go back, listen to the rumors of the crowd, find out who this corpse had belonged to, where his connections lay....but I'd been traveling all day and I was weary, so tired that I could feel the effort of walking to a cab weighing on my bones. I sighed....tomorrow.....tomorrow the city will be abuzz with rumor, tomorrow I can move down to Lucky's and learn what I can learn.

I continued in my dazed shuffling until I found myself outside the terminal. I breathed a small sigh of relief. The cab was waiting, shining in a patch of sunlight that made it appear to be sent from above, just for me. It was likely sleep deprivation, but I took it as a sign.

I gave the driver the address of the small apartment that I'd rented for the unforeseeable future and allowed myself to slump against the seat, eyes closed. Just an hour there, or two. Time to put away my things, perhaps have a drink to calm my nerves, take a short nap and then...and then....then I'd look up this "Lucky's" and get to work.

[Jontom Xire]

(( Can we have a spoiler with the rules in the first post please? Thanks. ))

[Andre Fairchilde]

(@ JX - Done. Thanks. Please let me know if you all need any information.

Voting ends day 1 Oct 15th, 6PM Central Standard Time (US). No extensions. No reminders for autolynches. No reminders for night actions.

You *can* get night actions in early if you like, or set actions to "automatic" if you don't have time to get something in.

Good luck.

AF ~)

[Trix]

(can I just point out that the level of rping in this game is already at a very high standard. Like, wow... slightly intimidating! lol)

Wow... I'm in this town five minutes and already people are saying there's a bloodbath coming. My mom was right... Who cares about excellent career prospects when the town is this dangerous...

Jessie arrived at the crime scene slightly after the police cordened off the area. She walked over to Detective that looked to be in charge and introduced herself.

"Hi, my names Jessica McDonnell. I'm a pathologist from the city morgue. Here to collect the body?" She held her identification up as she spoke.

"Shall I get it ready for transport?" She looked over at the corpse. Blood had already started to trail down into a nearby drain.

The cop mumbled in reply to her and basically told her to wait, as he wasn't ready for her just yet. She felt a little brushed off, but she shrugged it and walked over to a nearby police car to sit on the hood. She sat silently as the crowd around the crime scene was busy with chatter and activity. Rumours where circling the crowd like wildfire, and most of it was pure speculation. But one particular phrase caught her attention. "Maltese Falcon"

Her concentration was broken as she was told by the detective that he was ready for her. So she quickly got busy with her work. The tension in the whole area was high. You could feel the fear of a bloodbath coming.

[Andre Fairchilde]

The chase is on. Someone has the Falcon. At the very moment Joosbawx’s body is loaded on the gurney – before the body is even cold - plans are made, alliances are broken, and the tides are turning. There is room for only one winner in this city. And time is running out, as the ambushes are plotted – even now.

Somewhere booze runners are putting together another still, to crank out the gin and beer this city needs so badly to ease the million heartaches.

In another warehouse, gangsters load their Thompson sub-machine guns in eager expectation for the war to come. They will let nothing stand in their way of their certain wealth. Consider these the greedy.

Nearby, a ceremony is being performed, purifying the holy warriors signaling an end to the long struggle to bring the Falcon into their rightous hands. With this victory, a final return to the glorious days lost over 900 years. Consider these the fanatics.

A high society coming out is being held, crystal champagne glasses and strawberry ice cream for all the invitees – and only the invitees. For these attendees social status reigns king - she or he with the most wins. Consider these the "Haves."

And, then there is 'Lucky’s' the last stopping point for the detritis of the streets, one last bend in the river before the unlucky are washed out to sea. You may consider these the "Have nots."

[Shadow]

(can I just point out that the level of rping in this game is already at a very high standard. Like, wow... slightly intimidating! lol)
((Welcome to Mafia.
There's a very good reason that this is the preferred game for many of us.))

[androgial]

I pulled up in front of my office, office I call it but its more like an apartment. Full bath, kitchen and library. Being a lawyer ment sometimes pulling all nighters researching a case for precedents and I certainly wasnt about to go in to court smelling rank. There in the alley trying to hide was a young girl, covered in blood and guts. I wasnt a forensics expert but I know a splatter pattern when I see one.

"Good heavens little one, come in side quickly now and lets get you cleaned up. I may not be able to help you with whatever happened, but I am sure I know someone who can. My name is James Dominicus Percival Forthwright III Esquire and I am a defense attourney. If you tell me what happened, I can tell you who you need to talk to for your case."

I turned to the door man.

"Randolph my good man, would you be so kind as to aquire a suitable court dress for the young lady?"

Escorting her inside, and being careful not to drip blood or worse on my persian rugs, I led her to the bathroom.

"Do get cleaned up, I will just bag up these clothes as evidence that you were there and saw what you saw."

edit:(( i hate it when keystrokes dont register and i miss it in the preview))

[Korias]

Good Show, Ken! shouts the burly instructor as the fencer lowers his blade. Thanks Sir. I've been practicing. Removing his mask, a mane of red hair emerges, matted from the sweat and exhiliration of the fight. Ken Orias had just finished his daily regiement of fencing, this time with sabers. Undressing, he notices the rain start to fall outside the gym. Damn... I left my umbrella elsewhere. Donning a dark brown coat, he made his way down the city streets, with me in tow.

I'm a snoop, a snitch, a tailer. And K. Orias was my next target.

The rain beat down on my head as I followed him, bumpnig into people every so often. I knew his route, his target, his life. It makes my job easier: I become them. I live their life, dream their dreams. I work while they sleep, and work harder when the're awake. Not once have I ever failed in my job. Never. In six minutes, he would make his way to the dirtier parts of the city, where he would pick up a prostitute for his amusement. Judging from his recent escapades, he would hit the one on the corner of 29th and Park- "Kingdom of Hearts". He'd hit the place a few times in the past, and always after a fencing match. Knowing him, He'd probably go for Candy, the one with the bi-, well, they ALL have big chests, but still. I'd bought Candy off in the past: She'd get his wallet after the fun times, and then I' do my job and get some dirt on this guy. See if he had that "Malteser Falcon" or something.

Thats what the force was payin me to do. Find this "Falcon". Dont get it, though. Who wants some silly old bird? Well, If it had anything to do with that murder down on 33rd, then it might be useful, but why would a bird, of all things, be involved in a murder? Eh. I'm not paid to think.

It was about two hours later when I met Candy. Grabbing the wallet from her as we passed, not making eye contact, I ducked into an alleyway. The stench of garbage filled my nostrils, while I moved further down the shaded area. Opening the wallet, I pilfered through its contents. Drivers lisence, insurance, Fencer's Association membership card, Eagle scout, "Buy ten, get one Free!" card for the Kingdom of Hearts, and some cash. Nothing interesting. Untill I threw the wallet at the hobo down the bend, that is. It flew out of the wallet and almost landed in the gutter. Diving for it, I grabed the tiny coin in my hands, polishing the durt and mud off of it. It was unique; Not a US coin, not anything I'd seen in the past. It had a falcon on it.

Hes connected, I thought. I'm on the track.


----------------------------------------------

Ken Orias moves his way out of the brothel and back to his car, parked at the Gym. The rain beat down heavily on its roofing, before he drove off. It wasnt long before he was at his estate. I can smell the champagne now... He thought, as he rememberd what his wife had told him. Go get the win, champ. And then, we can have a big cellebration... she had said, with a playful smile on her lips. Entering into the grand mansion that he called home, he relaxed and shed his rain-soaked clothes. Passing through many a room, he finally comes upon his wife, Angela, playing with their son, Mark. There was this one guy today, and he just kept running along like he was some sort of coward! The Fleeing Coward, we called him as we relaxed from the fight, and what a fight it was! Nothing gets the blood pumping as a sword fight!

[Endeavourl]

I dart into the metro station through the Southside entrance, briefly checking and noticing that the figurehead cop usual standing watch at the turnstiles was surprisingly absent, before rolling under one of the subway turnstiles and into the throng of people waiting to commute home. Perfect.

I walk into the mens room on the first level, eager to get rid of the evidence. Entering one of the stalls, I pull out the lady's purse from under my shaggy sweatshirt, an quickly rifle through the contents. Not wanting to spend too much time in here, the Gang was always looking for trouble after the crowd of commuters thinned, I discarded most of the uninteresting items into the toilet. Aha, her wallet. Flipping it open, I notice the sides of a couple of greens sticking out, and, most important of all, food stamps. Smiling at my luck, I tuck the wallet into my pocket and flush the contents. Oh, that lady was wearing a watch, she can afford to lose a few food stamps. A lady of that figure, and well off enough to afford jewelry could always get cozy with the right officers or ration workers anyway. Nothing on my conscience tonight.

As I reenter the throng of commuters, I suddenly find myself being pointed at by a ragged looking man standing next to an Agent. An AGENT! Without wasting a moment, I turn away from Zar Peter and the Agent, heading straight for the sublevel stairs. A few heart pounding moments later, I heave a sigh of relief as I step onto the 7F train and lean back against the handrail.

Now what was an agent doing here, and why was that man pointing at me? The stories Ruffers told about his run-ins with the Agents were hardly believable, legendary Falcon and all, pfshhh! But one would rather not take any chances...no, not at all. I'd have to ask Old Gimbert about this. At least today's scavenging trip was successful, another week of secured food would rest Mum's worries a bit.

[Skippy]

The old drunk guy keeps sitting on the same old seat at Lucky's as he has always done. He keeps reliving his old days, his better days, his days with her. He is still there, his eyes watery, his mind blurry. The ghosts of his past haunt him. He is still blaming himself for having lost her, and he tries to drown all his memories with bottle after bottle of bad whiskey. He looks shaggy, but still he has that same look, of someone who has seen better times. The only thing that can be heard is him muttering every once in a while the words "If only...", followed by a move of his hand holding the glass, as if he were trying to chase away invisible images from in front of him.

Below the almost empty bottle, there is an old photo, and it seems like it has been rugged and straightened again, lots of times.

The old man gets asleep in the table again, and hopes all the memories will go away in his sleep...

He can be seen restless in his sleep, his hands moving here and there, as if they were fighting against an invisible foe. When he finally stops moving, his hand points at Fleeing Coward.

[Traveling_Angel]

Lucky's. A dive by any standard, it was a wonderful place to sit back and relax. And to listen when people think you're drunk. I had a deal with the barkeep. I never got liquor here, or anywhere else for that matter, but I can play a good drunk. And I heard that some fellow named Zar Peter had the Falcon. No idea if the rumor was trustworthy. But it was a start.

[EmeraldRose]

As she stalks away from her estranged husband, the lady in green pauses a moment to wipes the tears from her eyes. Turning her head slightly, she looks over her shoulder at him...

We could've run this town, you and me. But you let your conscience get in the way of it all! For that you left me here all alone! Not a day passes I don't wonder if things could've been different. It is too late to find out now. You come back here with your shiny new badge...do you even try to find me? No. You find a case first.

The word flying from her lips sounds worse than a curse. Her eyes flash green in the light, filled with what could be hatred, but might not be...

As she turns again to walk away, she finds her path is blocked. Someone..some...lump...is just lying there...taking up space. She steps over Fleeing Coward and continues on her way.

[Helgraf]

It was a steaming miserable excuse of an afternoon. The sun didn't show its scorching face, but it made its presence felt in the godawful heat that beat down on everything below, layer on layer of misery that squeezed out watery sweat and the vapours of the prior night's boozing. It was, on top of this, raining - and not a cool, refreshing shower that washed away the grime and the topsoil layers of people's inherent corruption. No, this was a hard, blatting assault of raindrops that did nothing to relieve the crushing vise of the heat. It was the sort of heavy, mildly acidic drops that you could almost feel peeling away the topmost layers of your skin. Etching you .. marking you as its own personal toy to be played with and broken.

I'd need to change shirts before I headed out for the evening. The hat, thankfully, was better weatherproofed ... and damn near indestructable. It wouldn't stop a bullet, but it had snared a knife or two that had been seeking my innards.

As I walked down the street, I noticed the blue-shirts had cordoned off a street corner and were making busy shooing away the gawkers. Now I'm what you might call an imposing gentleman - or as the less witty have had occasion to remark, a knuckle-dragging ham on legs. This has certain advantages in a city like this; it tends to discourage ... less focused opportunists. I use this size to lumber over toward the disturbance, see who's running the show. Couple of beat officers, with the look that says they've seen it all before - perhaps a few too many times. A rookie; he's keeping it under control, but I can see it in his eyes - that rooted need for justice that only the newest members of the force keep for long. And Sergeant O'Larahmagh. Me and the Sergeant go way back, old drinking buddies, but I've been out of town for a couple of years now. He's the first one to pick me out, of course - you don't put twelve years into the force in this town and not know how to pick out the real trouble from the poseurs and riff-raff. We talk for a bit, he gives me a little, but not a lot - it seems the brass are keen on keeping this one under wraps for a bit, though they won't say why. I promise to take him out for drinks soon. He asks - cautiously - about the dame, and I can't help but stiffen a little. I just shake my head and look at the corpse a moment. O'Larahmagh understands - or at least he's good enough not to ask any more questions about it.

I turn to go, and I hear the Rookie whispering something to the Sergeant. A very short argument in tones I can barely make out gets underway. It ends as these things inevitably do as O'Larahmagh pulls rank on the rookie. I continue on my way, heading towards the Island. There were only two reasons to go to the Island - one was for companionship, the sort of desperate thing that most folks on the lower rungs clung to because it gave them the illusion that somebody cared, someone felt they meant something, even if you had to chip in a sawbuck for it.

The other was Lucky's. Lucky's is the sort of place you find in every major city and no small number of littler ones. To call it a bar is a great misservice, though whether to Lucky's or the concept of a bar is debatable. Needless to say, it's a place where you can get a drink, a smoke, some anonymity, and just let life pass you by for a while while you crawl into a smaller world, just as dark and grimy, but with different pictures on the walls. But it was a familiar world, and in the insanity of a big city like this, a lot of people were willing to pay the small amount of money they had to spare for a little familiarity they only had to share if they chose to.

The salt-sting of the ocean breeze added its own rasp to the assault the rain and sun commited even upon my own august person. I permitted myself a gravel-grinder of a laugh at thinking of myself in that matter. The breeze was cool at least, and for a moment even pleasant, until the reek of dead fish hit ... and then it was a more hurrid motion, down the three steps and through the thick salt-crushed wooden door. Inside, the smell of strong liquor, stale smoke and a more quiet desperation overtook the rot from without, and I knew that I'd found someplace, that although not home, would certainly do for the next several hours. I wasn't often one to drink myself into inaction, and today wasn't looking like that sort of day either, but here on the Island, you had to blend in. So it was either hard liquor by the bottle, or leaning heavily on someone and cracking my knuckles to pass the time while I waited for information. And frankly, my knuckles had been cracked so many times, between my own fingers and other people's not-always yielding anatomies, that I didn't particularly feel the need to renew the acquiantance just yet.

There were faces, but one had the distinct look of a fish out of water. I gestured at him (fleeing coward) and asked Lucky what his story was.

[Skippy]

The old guy has some restless sleep. In his mind, images of his past are passing, the scenes run through his mind until they fuse with each other, creating confusing scenes, tormenting him even more, until he wakes up.

When he wakes up, the first thing he sees is the nearly empty bottle of whiskey. The brand is nearly erased from the bottle, but the words, although fuzzy, can still be seen.

"Sonny Runner"

He has been drinking the same brand of whiskey ever since he started drinking, so many years ago. Ever since he lost her. Why did he choose that particular brand of whiskey? He could remember it vaguely.

He had arrived at Lucky's for the first time, and there was the pianist (Another one, a black dude with a wonderful voice, retired years ago. There's another one now, a fellow named Zar Peter who is good, but not nearly as good as that old guy in the older days). There was the owner of the bar, Lucky (He hadn't changed, though. His hair was now a bit gray, but he was still the same as always), and he was the one who had approached the now old drunk.

"Hey, are you all right? You seem to be really down, fella. Can I get you a drink?"

It had been a sad night, a rainy night.

"Give me some of your cheapest whiskey"

Yes, that night, he remembered it clearly. He had been there ever since.

((Wow. I had never developed a character like this.))

[Andre Fairchilde]

[FONT="Book Antiqua"]
Under 4 hours left for voting

The City has many names, and is home to over a million lost souls. We can call it a City of Broad Shoulders, a City of slaughterhouses, a City of gin mills and speakeasies, and a City of desperation.

With the economic Depression mingling with the drought thousands enter the City with the intention of making a living, and most end up too poor to even leave town to return home.

The trainyards are dirty, and there are hundreds of homeless living in the levee near the yards. Cattle are brought in daily to the slaughterhouses, and some of the desperate and penniless ride those very same trains to the end of the line at the City.

The City also sits on both the river - which is dyed green every St. Patricks Day, and on the ocean. The river and the harbor bring in their own environments, the sea air, a sense of optimism and hope, the gulls, and a breeze. There are many of the rougher sorts in this area of town, so many that there is a police substation here, Lucky's, the hospital , and the morgue. With the morgue near both the trains and the ships, it's easier to ship those unfortunates home.

Over on The Hill, the elite congretate in the shadow of the cathedral. Most of the wealth lives and works uphill. It's a struggle to rise, and once risen - it may be ever so easy to roll back down the hill.

But, in this cold fall, there is a feeling of expectation - of hope - for some, and even a little fear for one.



Current Votes are now kept in Post #1
Under 4 Hours left for voting. If there is a tie, the player who received the first point get’s the noose.

[Trix]

((Welcome to Mafia.
There's a very good reason that this is the preferred game for many of us.))

(yeah i can see it being MY fav game too!)

Jessie stood up and away from the body for a moment. Her back had been sore the last few days and she needed to stretch. She walked away from her work a little and couldnt help listen to the crowds conversation. It was kind of weird being in this situation.

Everyone was looking at her and the body as if this was some sort of play. They made a spectacle of it, and the whole scene looked really theatrical.

These people are terrible... a man is dead... and all they can do is look at him like he's some sort of entertainment and chat about who might have done it and who has the famous falcon...

All things considered, the chatter around the scene had her own imagination going, and she couldnt help think that maybe fleeing coward had something to do with it.

Sergeant O'Larahmagh looked over at her, and the moment she made eye contact she went straight back to work.

[Supagoof]

A large man walks through the city. He's eyes looking intently at a piece of paper, and then up at various street signs. His hands scratches his head. You can observe that he is trying to find either someone or something, but is having difficulty figuring out the directions he wrote. He path is eratic at best. Even with the notes he consistently keeps checking, he turns around in circles multiple times. The expression on his face is one of worry. A look that he was needing to find shelter away from the past that haunts him. You might even say that the large man is a Fleeing Coward, as his size and stature would leave most trembling. So what he is running from, and what he is searching for are the only mystery to the onlookers.

[The Valiant Turtle]

Ralashar Dorian sits quietly on a few cinder blocks at the small table that is his excuse for a desk and kitchen table. On his left is a cup of a liquid that a generous person might call coffee. A small stack of typed pages sits to the right of his typewriter. In the corner stands a small wastebasket full of crumpled up wads of paper.

He finally stands up to answer the phone that has been ringing.

Hello.

Linda, how is my favorite editor doing?

Yes, it's coming along wonderfully. This will be my best work yet.

I'll have the next five chapters to you by the end of the week. Have I ever let you down?

Well, other than that?

I know. You'll send me my next advance after these chapters right?

I'll talk to you tomorrow.

Ralashar hangs up the phone, sips his coffee, grimaces and starts typing out another page.

After an hour, the noise upstairs finally grates on his last nerve. Why does that darn astronomer have to pace so much? The man's shoes must be made out of cast iron to make such a racket from just walking.

He finally calls the police and asks if they could please pay Mr. Zar Peter a visit.

[Timberwolf]

So Fleeing Coward had a death wish did he ? That said to me that he was just a fool who was in over his head. I pitied him for his suicidalness but I saw no reason to indulge him in it. Now, that Alarra, her finger was always on the pulse. Plus, she was blonder, taller and had a bigger chest than me. Reason enough for her to be involved in the hunt for the statue ? Probably. I do know that she'd stolen several male admirers from me and those displays of perfidy pointed towards a nature that would want the statue just for herself. Plus it meant I had to pay for my own drinks more.

I walked into Luckys and there was the lady herself, grinning at me and sipping a free drink, doubtless bought by... yep, there was Engelbert. Well, she was welcome to him, lousy 2 timing rat.

I fixed a false smile and caught the barman's eye. I pointed at Alarra and said "5 bucks if you treble the tabasco in that one's next drink."

((Disclaimer Alarra has in no way pinched any relationship of mine, I just got writing and couldn't stop once the idea started, sorry.))

[Supagoof]

So Fleeing Coward had a death wish did he ? That said to me that he was just a fool who was in over his head. I pitied him for his suicidalness but I saw no reason to indulge him in it. Now, that Alarra, her finger was always on the pulse. Plus, she was blonder, taller and had a bigger chest than me. Reason enough for her to be involved in the hunt for the statue ? Probably. I do know that she'd stolen several male admirers from me and those displays of perfidy pointed towards a nature that would want the statue just for herself. Plus it meant I had to pay for my own drinks more.

I walked into Luckys and there was the lady herself, grinning at me and sipping a free drink, doubtless bought by... yep, there was Engelbert. Well, she was welcome to him, lousy 2 timing rat.

I fixed a false smile and caught the barman's eye. I pointed at Alarra and said "5 bucks if you treble the tabasco in that one's next drink."

((Disclaimer Alarra has in no way pinched any relationship of mine, I just got writing and couldn't stop once the idea started, sorry.))
((Amused!))

[CurlyKitGirl]

It was a bad day for me, pushed around by a Fleeing Coward; although what am I to say? I ran from the guy with the gun. I even saw his face; a well-to-do guy with a neat 'tache. But what could I do? A reach guy like him: and a filthy blood-spattered child. No contest whatsoever.
The best part of the day? Five hours of ringing silence before the torrent of uncaring, blaring, thunder poured into my ears and shattered the peace I had come to enjoy. It fit me; a noone unlistened to could ignore the someones; the hopers and dreamers; the success stories and the climbers, all towering above me in this dreary city.
All I could think of during those dizzying sound hours was a safe quiet place. Lucky's would work. Noone spoke if they could help it; at least there they could drown in a shared drink of loneliness before returning to the cold life.
The drunk man was there again. I normally had some small money for a meal for him. I don't know why I did it, he just didn't deserve to starve on bellyrotting moonshine. I shuffled through my pockets and found enough money for him. So I slipped the man behind the counter the money. "Same again for him?" his muttered words thrbbed in my sensitive ears. I nodded, unable to stand the loudness of my own voice.
Then I left. One meal isn't enough for two. I needed to get myself som funds before the dark caught me.

[HyramGraff]

This case I got today was one that I could as close an quickly as it had oppened. The stooge that did the job was obviously the coward who was seen fleeing the sceen. I like easy cases almost as much as I like my whiskey.

[Andre Fairchilde]

(Votes are now being updated on First Post. Voting ends today, Monday October 15, at 6:00PM Central Standard Time, U.S.).

[Alarra]

The place was a dive, the kind of bar I'd never imagined I'd step foot in. It was past smoky, to the point where the air felt almost solid and you could feel the mixture of grease, smoke and booze oozing into your very pores. It took every ounce of willpower I had not to turn right back around, head home, and climb immediately into the shower. And then there were the patrons. I shuddered. Most appeared to have sat in these same places so long that they'd almost become fixtures themselves. The grease that permeated the air clung to them and one could tell at a glance that there were few friendly faces. I steeled myself again. No...I could...would do this.

I sighed and moved to the bar. My short nap had left me groggy and the drink I'd had already soured in my stomach. I think just water would be the best plan for tonight. But of course, that wasn't in the cards. I should have known, a girl like me, a place like this...it wouldn't be long before I had several drinks sent my way. And of course, what better way to gather information than by flirting over a cocktail.

And was there ever information...rumors flying this way and that. There was the astronomer who was just a bit too interested in antiquities, there was that cowardly one, so afraid of the shadowy underbelly of the city that he was clamouring to get himself killed, and then there was the woman staring daggers in my direction. What was her story?

I didn't know which rumor was right...if any of them....or who to believe in this town. But for now, I felt that Zar Peter deserved a bit more investigating.

[Eldritch Knight]

I have to tread carefully from now on. I really don't want to anger the wrong people, be they the mob, or the law. I'm just a guy trying to live his life in peace in a city that knows no peace. At any rate, if I'm going to live, I need to make some sacrifices...

Points at Fleeing coward

[androgial]

((I guess curly missed the invite to slip into high society for a bit))

Word was running rampant through all channels of society. Some poor guy even accused himself.probably wanting to get out of town the fastest way he could and still be alive, by going to the state penetentiary. Fleeing Coward may not be guilty of anything, but it sure looked like he was trying to implicate himself, hard. And whats more people were believing it. Oh well. One less hunter desperately trying to find one of the greatest prizes high society searched for. One less person looking for the falcon.

[Raiser Blade]

*pont at FC

[Andre Fairchilde]

EXTRA!!!!!EXTRA!!!!!EXTRA!!!!!


MAN KILLED IN BROAD DAYLIGHT AT TERMINAL
Front page reads:Joosbawx has been killed! Citizens now nervous about train station being called a ‘terminal’. “If it’s a ‘terminal’ doesn’t that sound depressing? It’s so final, so cold. You may as well call it a grave yard or something. Who wants to go to a graveyard to get to work?”

The man known as Joosbawx was apparently carrying a package, a package which has gone missing. Local police have no comments, but clearly the search is on for this missing package. Someone has it, but who?

Page 2

FLEEING COWARD TO PROTECTIVE CUSTODY
The only suspect in Joosbawx’s untimely and messy death is the below average fencer Fleeing Coward. Fleeing Coward has been saved from a lynch mob, concrete shoes, and an otherwise tragic drowning by communion by the infalliable District Attorney. The District Attorney has taken Fleeing Coward to parts unknown, protected by deputized deputies, deputies deputized to protect Fleeing Coward. Although unpopular with the mob, and potentially suicidal (seen pointing randomly at himself) Fleeing Coward lives to see another day.



NIGHT 1 BEGINS - Now!

WHO will be gunned down by the Mob? (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w1FgpBxXho4)
WHAT is the Maltese Falcon?
WHERE will the Shadow strike?
WHEN will the Templars show their machinations?
WHY will the D.A. protect the next person?
HOW will the Citizenry respond?


Actions in to me by 6 PM Central Standard time, Tuesday, October 16th.
The night phase may end early if all actions are in by the cut-off.

[Raiser Blade]

Fleeing Coward is the D.A.? o_O

[Fleeing Coward]

((The DA just protected me for the day whoever he/she is. Now can someone please kill me in the night so I don't have to think up of something to write tommorrow morning :smalltongue: ))

[Traveling_Angel]

((I'm gonna laugh if the DA saves you tonight))

[Andre Fairchilde]

(I have a rule addendum. It hasn't come up, but I just thought of this tonight: recruiting...

The respondent can take as long as they wish to respond. There is no time limit on the recruitment offer.)

[Shadow]

((So I'm going to assume that Templar Knights and Shadow Agents are forced to refuse any recruitment offers from the opposing groups. Therefore, having no time limit on the descision is a bad idea in my mind. I am by no means trying to tell you how to run your game. But I though it worth mentioning.))

[Andre Fairchilde]

(Automatic refusals will be given as the night time expires, the other's will have the opportunity to keep the offer going. Ever see "Miller's Crossing"? This is the "Tom" rule.)

[androgial]

It was getting late. I dressed to the Nines and drove to the bank. I had a safe deposit box there, and there was something I needed from it. You cant be too prepared in this city. In my box was my revolver. Hadnt needed it when I was visiting the White House, so i had locked it up. I wasnt the best shot in the country club, but I wasnt a slouch either. Now armed I also withdrew 200 from my account for the nights expense. Champaign and caviar. I couldnt wait to see the jealousy sprout as I sat in my new box booth at the opera house. Barring a visit from said personage, the presidential box was mine. Take that Mr. Orias

[Jontom Xire]

((I guess curly missed the invite to slip into high society for a bit))


It wasn't really an invite. You ever heard of the term "godding"? You described the actions she took. It's her character, not yours. You can present an opening for interaction, but not describe the other person's responses unless they've been previously agreed by PM. CKG and I did this in the previous incarnation of Mafia, but we exchanged several PMs and I got her to type up her response before including it in my post for the sake of easy reading. Don't god people. It's rude and arrogant. It's my guess that if you had left your post open she would have responded by having her character run away, rather than simply ignoring your post. She's playing a streetwise waif, not an ex-streetwise waif who was taken off the streets by a rich but arrogant lawyer. Also your post assumes she's in some sort of trouble with the police and is due in court to be tried at any moment. If she was in trouble with the police she would be in jail as she cannot afford bail. And there hasn't even been enough time since the murder for a bail hearing anyway.

I guess in summary what I am saying is don't write other's characters and background for them.



(Automatic refusals will be given as the night time expires, the other's will have the opportunity to keep the offer going. Ever see "Miller's Crossing"? This is the "Tom" rule.)

Umm this is a bad idea. It allows scrying by recruitment. If the Templars or Shadow Agents get a refusal exactly as night time expires then they know that the person they tried to recruit is someone who cannot be recruited. It would be better to give the automatic refusal the next time you log on after the target person has last posted/logged on. That makes it feasible that they could have read the recruitment offer, sent you a reply, and you then forwarded the reply back to the recruiting party.

E.g.

1) A sends you a pm with a recruitment offer for B who cannot be recruited. You ignore it and log off.
2) Next time you log on, you check if B has posted recently in any SMBG thread. If not, do nothing. If so send a PM to A telling them that recruitment has been refused.

I don't think keeping the recruitment offer open is a bad idea as long as automatic refusals are handled properly. In this case it would be a good idea to randomly roll a 1d6 each time you log on after B has posted, and only send the refusal if you roll a 4 or higher (or something).

[Andre Fairchilde]

Umm this is a bad idea. It allows scrying by recruitment. If the Templars or Shadow Agents get a refusal exactly as night time expires then they know that the person they tried to recruit is someone who cannot be recruited. It would be better to give the automatic refusal the next time you log on after the target person has last posted/logged on. That makes it feasible that they could have read the recruitment offer, sent you a reply, and you then forwarded the reply back to the recruiting party.

E.g.

1) A sends you a pm with a recruitment offer for B who cannot be recruited. You ignore it and log off.
2) Next time you log on, you check if B has posted recently in any SMBG thread. If not, do nothing. If so send a PM to A telling them that recruitment has been refused.

I don't think keeping the recruitment offer open is a bad idea as long as automatic refusals are handled properly. In this case it would be a good idea to randomly roll a 1d6 each time you log on after B has posted, and only send the refusal if you roll a 4 or higher (or something).


(Thanks - what you say makes a ton of sense. I'm open to any suggestions regarding the refusal/acceptances as I'm not a fan of the free scry. But bear in mind - the agents are *giving up* their scry for the recruitment, so in essence it really *is* as scry action.

An easy solution is simply not to give an answer for the auto-refusals until the player wants to make a response.


EDIT:

In retrospect, I don't see putting a time limit on any refusal should matter. If the Shadow Agents or Templars want to put a time limit on ther offer - that's fine (i.e. "Join by tomorrow or die. Join or we kill 'x' player. Join or we kill a puppy. For every hour you don't answer, another puppy dies. Hey - these are the Bad Guys!").

Edit to the edit
But again, they may retract their offer by telling me and not telling the potential recruit.

[Endeavourl]

Ende! Ende! Bethy, Ende's home!
Endeavourl!
What are you two still doing up? I ask as I give Bethany and Miriam each a big hug. It's way past your bedtimes girls.
Miri couldn't sleep, and so we decided to wait for Mum to return
Where did Mum go?
Mum went to visit Uncle Darger again. She said she was going to bring home some candies for us!
I sighed to myself. Mum really shouldn't be doing this to herself, there were other means to get by, even paying the ridiculous rent and bribes in this neighborhood. Mum won't be coming home anytime soon, lets get you two into bed.
Read me a story Ende!
Yeah, you haven't read us a story in a while.
Ok, but promise me you'll go right to sleep afterwards!

[Andre Fairchilde]

Night in the cold city. The frost hasn’t come yet, but the rains have arrived. Puddles fill the streets as the gutters empty the rainwater.

A Templar Knight walks up the stairs in the church. Round and round the stairs to the bell tower, finally stepping over pigeons. As he entered the room lit only by candle light, he turned on the light switch.

“Why do you write by candlelight? – We have electricity here, and it’s free…”

The Oracle was writing a letter, a letter of recruitment. The crystal ball sat to the side unused.

“I find… I find that there is more…faith in my work when the light is natural. I have more feeling, more…enthusiasm for my work when return to the old ways and disregard the trappings of this modern city.”

“Sir, the Knights are on their way to the heretic as we speak.”

A man walks down an alley. He is being tailed, and he knows it. But, he is a master of disguise. He turns a corner, discards his coat, and sits down next in an empty door-frame. Worried, but hopeful, he thinks to himself “they’ll think I’m homeless. They didn’t see my face.”

Shadowy figures enter the alley way, figures full of malice. Wordlessly, one stayed at the entrance while the others ruthlessly searched. They found one homeless man. “Is this him?”

“I don’t know. Bring him to me.”

The figure brought the homeless man over to the leader. With a blinding flash, the leader drew a sword and stabbed the innocent man.

“It doesn’t matter if he was or not, he’s finished now. If the heretic is in this alley way, the heretic will be found and killed.”

The search continued….

Helgraf – the Mole, disguised as a civilian – was killed by the Templars anyway.



Nearby, a sedan slowly drives down an empty street.

“See here? You need to join. We’re the top dogs in this town. There’s no question we run things. What will it take to make you join? We can make it worth your while…”

“No response, eh? It’s ok to be afraid. I’ve scared many men in my day. When I see something I take it! It’s the same for all my men. We take what we want, who we want, and there is no force strong enough to stop us.”

“The Police? We own them. The D.A.? A patsy. Some religious nuts? Who cares?”

“Hey – stop the car. Here’s a sample of what we can do. You saw the election today? The town votes who the least popular guy is and kick him out, throw him in jail, throw him in the river? See that guy? He voted today. He’s a good citizen. Makes me sick!”

With that, the Fat Man steps out of the car, draws a pistol and shoots the Citizen. He looks down, turns around and sits back in the car next to the potential recruit.

“So, what about the job?”


RadikalSkippy was killed by the Shadow Agents – he was a Citizen.


Finally, in the darkest alleyways of the city another figure is being followed. He is obsessed with his hero – the only one with the strength to do what needed to be done. Oh, but he had tried to do good too, he took up his own mantle – He was the Shadow! Only the Shadow knows!

He curses to himself ‘I think it’s this way.’ He was following his hero to the secret hideout, hoping to help.

Behind him, the darkness revealed a sinister figure – black cloak and hat, mask, malice, and gun…

“Wait..I can help…” but it’s too late. Without hesitation, at risk of losing his safe haven the Shadow fires 1 bullet killing the well-meaning, but unlucky visitor.


Vonriel was killed by the real Shadow. Vonriel was the Fanboy, but has passed the role onto another.


Unbeknownst to the Shadow – another figure witnessed the attack, and a new Fanboy was created.


Vonriel asked out of the game, and I passed on his role to another before the final scene occurred. There is a new FanBoy. This will NOT be a common occurrence, most roles will NOT be replaced.

But – if you do want out and you have a role – let me know so I can give your role to a citizen.





NIGHT 1 ENDS - DAY 2 BEGINS
DAY 2 PROJECTED TO END 6:00PM CST THURSDAY OCT 18

[CurlyKitGirl]

((come on! How come Helgy (wonderful RPer) got killed. I can uinderstand why but I miss the RP already. And Alarra's without a backstory. And you killed my only connection with the rest of the game! Back to the isolated kid legging it from everyone. I am understandably miffed))

[Alarra]

(awww man....at least we hadn't started anything yet this time...:smallfrown: )

[Korias]

((Wow. That sucks ROYALY. I Miss Helgraf's RP already.

Hats off to you, man.))

[Shadow]

*point at Korias

RP to come.

Nevermind

[Supagoof]

((Holy carp! Not very nice mr shadow guy, not S.Hadow (Shadow) of course, but whoever is playing as the shadow. If you knew who he was, why'd you shoot him? :smallconfused: ))

The large man who had been stumbling around the town trying to find his way finally spots what he was seeking. Lucky's pub. He makes his way into the building.

Hewwo Evybody!

Seeing the eyes from the tables glare up at him, he realizes quickly this is not a place to be overly friendly.

Sowwy!

He grabs a seat at the counter, and order a beer - tall. Tell's the barkeep to keep them coming. He takes a drink and look up smiling. The something about him that just isn't right. It's as if he doesn't get it. And if you're thinking the same you'd be right. He doesn't get it. Just some big goon from the hicks who came to the city in the hopes of making something of himself. Maybe he'd find employment delivering the newspaper - they could use a big strong guy, then again, perhaps the fish market needed help. Regardless, the beer here was good. At least, better then anything he ever had in that po-dunk town. Yep, a world of possibilities lies at his feet.

((I told you I was going to play as Graklok, and here he is. :smallamused: ))

[Raiser Blade]

Eddy wakes up at the crack of dawn. *sigh* He really hated his job as a newspaperboy but at his age it was the only way he could bring money into his home. After he loaded up his papers on his bike he stopped to glance through the first couple of pages. "Wow" he thought, "this city is getting worse and worse".

*point at EK

[Freshmeat]

(Hey, I was already a Freddy! :smallwink: )
(And I've got to join the Helgraf-mourners as well. Seriously, that was some high-quality writing right there. I was really looking forward to reading more.)

[Andre Fairchilde]

(We still welcome all RP from players - and even those not playing. They just can't influence the gameplay - but it sure can help with ambiance.)

[Timberwolf]

It was dead in Lucky's bar. Well, almost. As I swirled my olive round in my Martini, I looked over by the table with the action. Doubtless Miss Alarra Sweetness and Light fending them off with a stick again. Bah. I caught a glimpse of a familiar hairstyle and very pointedly did not look at Lowell Grimaldi III as he went about his Dark Mistresses' bidding. Doubtless off to either buy her another drink or put his coat down so she didn't have to tread on the admittedly filthy floor. Or, knowing Grimaldi, probably off to claim the plum spot outside so he could beat all the other mugs to it to kneel in the gutter so she could get into her cab when it came.

I turned my thoughts to the afternoon's news. I knew Helgraf. He'd always struck me as being a straight shooter, or, at least, as straight as you got in this town. Just goes to show how you can be wrong about a guy. Turned out he was the Mole, the well known but unrecognisable master of disguise. RadikalSkippy was just a citizen trying to make his way. One like him died every hour in this city. Another tragedy.

What was the big news to me was that the Shadow was definately back. He'd killed his stalker the other night, the guy who desperately wantted to be either him or her, no one knew. The Shadow was the eye of the storm and this looked like it was going to get really interesting.

I debated throwing my olive into the group that I assumed was surrounding Alarra but decided that it may be another person winding the wasters in this bar round her finger. If it was that, I wished her joy of it. If it was Alarra, well, I won't go into what I wished there.

[Cult_of_the_Raven]

I woke up in the morning, threw some clothes on, and walked quickly to the shop. I hadn't had a nice night last night. Last time I go out on a date after work. I complained to myself in my head and proceeded to take over the shift from my night employee at the shop.
"Morning, Abby." I said to the girl, taking the keys.
She yawned. "Morning for you. Read the paper. three murders last night. No news on them yet, other than what's in there." She laughed and headed out the door, stopping to drop a bit of muffin into Golden's dish.
Golden hopped up onto the table, and i had to wrestle the paper out from underneath the big cat. I didn't get to read it much before it was swept away by a customer, but I did get the general message. Three men dead, and killed in horrible fashion. I sighed, but returned to work. It wasn't an unusual occurrence in this city, so i took little notice of it. I was more fond of messing about with my books than the news. But I did bring the newspaper up to the counter to look at during my spare moments.

[Traveling_Angel]

I sat down heavily in front of my computer. No leads. Well, the murders were all very obvious about which group had caused such death, they didn't give many clues as to who was responsible. I had little to go on, and I hadn't had any sudden discoveries or bursts of understanding. So I would listen to the professionals. Hopefully they would have something.

((OOC translation: I got nothing.)

[EmeraldRose]

Madam, your morning coffee...and the paper. The headlines are gruesome. I skimmed through it, as you request, there was nothing apparent about any of your interests.

Thank you. I'll read it in front of the fireplace this morning.

The lady in green opened the paper to the front page, and sipped her coffee as she read. Her eyes widened at the scope of the violence that had taken place the previous night. For a moment, she was frightened and thought about calling him, begging him to come back so she would feel safe again. Then she remembered how he'd left. There was no going back.

She picked up the phone to place a call to a different person...

[androgial]

What an absolutely beautifly morning. The waves of jealousy were a sheer delight. One could feel the thoughts turning in thier heads. Just how do they top such a social coup like that. And then came the morning news. 3 less hunters for the prize. Sadly those roughians didnt have the decency to kill each other off, instead hitting a couple of innocents, and the master of disguise. So much for his expertise in hiding witnesses. the calls would begin soon. High society would want to protect their interests during this troubled time. And I get a fee for every court filing. Life was getting better slowly but surely.

[Eldritch Knight]

The war was beginning. How many lives were lost in the quest of the falcon previously? I've been seeking it for a long time, seeking it for the sole purpose of destroying it once and for all. I've done my research. It's cursed. Cursed to be an amplifier for all the sins that humanity is capable of. Even the most righteous individual would not be immune to its effects. To this degree, this task has fallen to me. To me, the falcon is my means of redemption, my means to salvation. I will do what it takes to claim it, even if it means staining my soul with the blood of innocents. For the price of peace, how can we measure what is fair?

[Skippy]

((Aww man... I wanted to know the story of the drunkard...))

[Alarra]

I woke the next day, my head heavy and stuffed with cotton, the sunlight slanting through the slits in the curtains searing my eyelids. I groaned and pulled the pillow over my head. As I lay on the lumpy, mattress, I replayed the evening's events. Exhausted and tipsy, I'd walked into a bar....a bar in a strange city....all alone. I'd dressed down, but my breeding was still apparent on my face and I'd stood out in that crowd of greasy rats, a peacock in a sea of pigeons. I tried to recall who I'd talked to, how many glasses of scotch or sherry had been slipped my way accompanied by a sly glance and none so subtle wink. I couldn't. The evening slid into obscurity sometime around number five or six. I couldn't even recall how I'd made it home that night or when.

At this point, the mattress shifted next to me. I jerked around, the pillow falling to the floor, and was met with foul breath and yellowing teeth inches from my face. Hey baby...

Amazing how quickly some things can sober you up, I thought as I crossed the street corner at a near sprint not 3 minutes later. It was at this point that I paused. I didn't even know what street corner this was...it certainly wasn't mine. Ugh...How could I have let this happen? Top notch detective I was turning out to be. I fished a large pair of shades out of my oversized tote, a paltry defense against the offending sun, and began to work my way back into the heart of the city and something I would hopefully recognize.

Several blocks later the city once again began to resemble someplace inhabitable and I snagged a newspaper, the biggest cup of coffee I could find, and a donut. Before my mind could begin its tirade on the fat and chemicals I was about to consume, I took a large bite. It's much harder to talk yourself out of breakfast once you've already had a taste of sugary glaze, and besides, after a night like that one, I'd need it. I perched at a small table, in one of the few corner coffee shops left in this part of town. It wasn't quite quaint, nor seedy, but danced somewhere on the ledge between the two. After a minute, the donut was gone, and I finally opened the paper to peruse the evening's going ons.

3 deaths....my word....No wonder my mother had been so concerned about my desire to come here. I shook my head at my stupidity, realizing how lucky I was to be alive....going into that bar alone, flirting with strangers, drinking to that point, and ...oh...not to mention going home with a man who's name I can't even remember. I buried my head in my hands. I wasn't cut out for this.

[Trix]

Jessica awoke with a jump. Her phone was ringing. She looked over at her clock and it said 5:30. She turned over, and tried to ignore it. But it didnt stop. 15 rings later, she picked it up. She already knew who it would be. It was Dave from the Morgue.

"Why?"

"Jessica? I need you here right away. My evening backup is gone and I've to process three dead bodies!"

"Three?" Jessica's eyes opened wider as the full extent of what her collegue said hit her. "Dave cop on man... There's no way thats going to fool me into coming-"

"Jess, I'm SERIOUS! Three. And the cops have said that they think this is only the beginning! Just get out of bed and help, please?"

"uuuuhhhh..." Jessie groaned as she accepted her friends request.

"So you'll do it? Great! Thanks Jess I owe you"

"Your enthusiasm is just unfair at this time in the morning..." She finished before hanging up the phone.

She rose from her bed, walked straight into her bathroom and jumped into the shower. The water was freezing as it needed time to heat up. "AAAAH! Freaking cold!" Although the cold was expected, it didnt stop her desire to react to it in her own way.

Ten minutes later, she was downstairs on the street with towel dried hair and covered up in her outer wear. The morning sun was just coming up behind the buildings, but the city was still very dark. The footpath was still soaked form the night before rainfall, and the street's were very empty. The Morgue was only two blocks away from her apartment, and the walk at night was not new to her. Still, it didnt mean it was easier or not as scary after the 10th time...

As she was coming up to the Morgue, a huge gust of wind blew right into her face, and its force was strong enough for her to stop in her paces. She wrapped herself in her coat and held her hat tightly while she waited for the gale to stop.

Then the wind dropped, and the alleyway in which she walked became deathly quiet. She felt a chill go up her spine as she remembered the horror stories about the city, and jumped as an old rusty gate slammed shut across from her.

Damn wind... She thought to herself as she quickly made her way into the Morgue.

Walking into one of the primary examination rooms, she saw Dave, surrounded by three fresh bodies. He was pre-occuppied and looking a little worn out.

"Morning Dave." She said softly so not to alarm him.

"Oh..." He looked up from his work. "Hey Jess, sorry for waking you up like this..."

"Don't think about it right now... But lets just say you owe me a solid favour." She looked over at the bodies. "Ok, tell me about them."

Dave nodded and went straight into 'Tour guide mode'

"This here is Helgraf, otherwise known infamously as 'The Mole', best I can tell? the large wound in his chest was done by a stabbing weapon. Hard to believe but judging by the depth and width of the injury I would guess it was a sword."

He pointed across the room. "That there across the room is radilkalskippy. Police say they think it was just a random killing. They have no leads. 2 straight gunshots to the chest. Both bullets I retrieved and on the plate beside him."

"And the guy beside you" He points next to her. "Is still offically a John Doe, although police believe his name is Volriel. They are still trying to confirm it."

Jessie looked over their bodies. It was going to be a long day.

[Jontom Xire]

The taste of sleep was strong in my mouth when I woke, a taste of old alcohol and cigarette smoke from the night before mixed with stale saliva. I got up and washed my mouth clean with the best mouth wash I had ever found, the type that gets distilled. It wasn't the best blend, but then I wasn't rich.

Last night had been a weird night. Funny yet also disturbing to watch. That dame had been out of her depth. She was clearly out of place in Lucky's, had been crude in her attempts to extract information from the clientele, not that such a high-class word could be accurately used to describe such a low-class crowd, and had allowed herself to get so intoxicated that she had ended up being escorted from the place by some lucky guy. If she hadn't been so out of control drunk I might have approached her and offered my services. She clearly had money, wanted information, and in my book that made her a customer. She also clearly didn't have a clue how to operate, and in my book that made her the best type of customer. There wouldn't be any of the almost customary threats, I could charge her twice my usual rates, and any information would be valuable to her since she didn't have any. Plus I could probably wring any information she had out of her to sell to someone else.

I had followed her last night. I didn't need to be good at it. She was drunk to the point of near unconsciousness and he was only interested in getting her home, and presumably undressed, as fast as possible. Once they went to his place I only hung around for a bit before deciding that the streets weren't a safe place and that my bed was calling to me. It didn't matter. She was sure to come back to Lucky's some time. That place draws people like fly-paper draws flies, and once they're there there they are stuck.

I was dressing as these thoughts rolled through my mind, and was out the door heading for Raven's coffee shop almost before I noticed. I stopped to get a paper and re-considered when I read the headlines. Three bodies dead overnight. It was to be expected with the Falcon turned up again, but I couldn't afford to loll around in a coffee shop. I needed to get to work. I visited a few "friends", made some conversation, talked to contacts for most of the morning then made my way over to Lucky's. Hopefully, and given the amount she had to drink and the hangover she must be nursing, probably, I would get there before the dame. I wanted to find something out about her before I approached her. It always impresses the customer when you know all about them, and what they want to know, before they've even told you. Shows you're good at getting information and that is my business. It pays to be seen as good at it.

[The Valiant Turtle]

I stared down at the few pages I had done and sighed. I gulped down the last of my cold coffee and stretched. I need a break.

I headed down to the lobby and got my mail, mumbling some acknowledgments to my neighbors.

I had the usual junk mail and late bills. I also had a strange envelope with no return address. I opened it.

The Knights Templar Invite you to an informational session. Go to Lucky's Bar and order a scotch with a double twist (we'll pick up the tab).

I looked at my meager stack of pages and decided I didn't have time for these guys, whoever they were. I've got a novel to write. To bad, I could really have used the scotch.

I wonder if it might be my old friend Eldritch Knight playing some sort of trick on me.

((I have a feeling I might be dead soon, but among the Templars is somebody who thought I'd make a good addition))

[Crystall_Myr]

Three murders. Three murders last night. I threw the paper into the trashcan and got off my recliner - it was time for me to do a bit of detective work. Donning my coat, unlocking my door, and leaving the house, I made my way to where all the good rumors start. Lucky's, that is.

I stepped inside, my eyes scanning the place smoothly: nothing interesting yet, it seemed. I slipped into an empty table and once again took advantage of my height to scan the surroundings inconspicuously, checking to make sure no one looked suspicious.

[Eldritch Knight]

I stared down at the few pages I had done and sighed. I gulped down the last of my cold coffee and stretched. I need a break.

I headed down to the lobby and got my mail, mumbling some acknowledgments to my neighbors.

I had the usual junk mail and late bills. I also had a strange envelope with no return address. I opened it.

The Knights Templar Invite you to an informational session. Go to Lucky's Bar and order a scotch with a double twist (we'll pick up the tab).

I looked at my meager stack of pages and decided I didn't have time for these guys, whoever they were. I've got a novel to write. To bad, I could really have used the scotch.

I wonder if it might be my old friend Eldritch Knight playing some sort of trick on me.

((I have a feeling I might be dead soon, but among the Templars is somebody who thought I'd make a good addition))

So, you point at me, suggesting that I might be a member of the Knights Templar. Sadly, such an accusation has no basis in reality, as there is no evidence to support such a supposition. I recommend that you provide clear evidence of any involvement I might have had in the foul play of the previous nights before making any such accusations.

[Shadow]

So who the hell does Mr. Big-Brains over here think he is?

So, you point at me, suggesting talky talky. Sadly, talky talky reality, as there is talky talky supposition. I recommend talky talky clear evidence of talky talky foul play of talky talky accusations.

First thing my old man ever taught me....
It's always the talkative ones that give you the heebie jeebies.

Point at EK

[Eldritch Knight]

Shadow, my old nemesis, you vex me once again!

If I know anything it's that there are those you simply cannot trust. I admit, I've stabbed you in the back far more than you have done so to me, so maybe your suspicion is warranted. But there is someone who has been trying to pull my strings and recommend which actions I should take. That person seems to suspect that I am a member of the Knights Templar, an assumption which I've felt no need to correct. I could reveal that persons identity, but it would serve no purpose, as I've already determined that they are just a deluded villager trying to make sense of the plots around them. I am only a villager, trying to keep myself alive while this city goes to hell around me.

Furthermore, you mock me by altering my words to convey a message completely different from what I actually said. It seems to me that you are trying to cover something up. Perhaps you are an actual member of the Knights Templar, and are trying to make me into a scapegoat. Such a tactic is not beyond you.


EK points at Shadow

[Timberwolf]

Shadow had a point. Although it turned my very skin to admit it. The trouble with Shadow was that you just could not trust him an inch. Well, what else was new ?

Eldritch Knight was another one I failed to trust. And now he and Shadow were pointing at each other. Well, the question was, which of them did I trust least. Or, should I go my own way ? Only time and a good sleep on the part of the player would tell there.

All in all, I was feeling pretty good. My arch nemesis had proven that she couldn't hold her liquor and had been loaded into a taxi by a grinning Louie McSweeney. Louie McSweeney... A depth even I wouldn't sink to in the name of a free drink.

As the rain began to fall, I sat down in Lucky's and began to ponder. Who could be after the Falcon ?

[The Valiant Turtle]

(( Can't really figure out a way to do this in character... sorry. My only real clue is that there is possibly a Templar who wanted me on their team. It's not much to go on, but I went with someone I've been on the same team with before and who might think I'd be a good addition. There are certainly several others that fit that bill, and the entire reasoning could be flawed, but it's all I've got. ))

[Andre Fairchilde]

ELECTIONS COMING!

24 Hours left to vote

(7 6 names up for autolynch)

(RP post to be inserted here)

[Traveling_Angel]

accusations flew, but I knew when to follow my gut. I couldn't think of anything to really go off of, but I felt like I should Point at EK.

I'd have to look him over closely. If he survived the day.

[Atreyu the Masked LLama]

*The llama looks in with a sad look. After the zoo closed, instead of bothering to find homes for all the animals, they let the ones that other zoos didn't want out into the city to survive for themselves. He stares into the nice warm tavern and munches on some of the grass that is growing out of the concrete. He feels a connection with the grass. Much like himself the grass has grown, sprouting between the cracks that would snuff its life and tried to keep it dead and buried underneath the cement. As he munches down on the green nourishment, he wonders how long it will be before he too is devoured by something in this concrete jungle cesspool.*

(Oh and I'll be pointing at Shadow tonight.)

[androgial]

far be it from me to start a bandwagon but, barring evidence to the contrary which has not made it into my possesion, I accuse Eldritch Knight of being the wheat pirate "salty bob"(c) and everyone knows the wheat pirates are part of either the templars or the shadow agents, which ever is paying the most at the time.

[Alarra]

I'm very tired so I'm not going to rp anymore for today. I am, however, going to point at EK. Because frankly, I know him, and even if he isn't a Templar or a member of any other group, he'll still wind up doing something to get me killed. Because that's what he does. He killed me in both previous mafia's, so this is really more a 'kill him before he kills me' type of point.

[Korias]

Ken Orias Was enjoying the morning stroll to his law firm. It was in the Southbanks, just off the corner of that old aunt for many of his patrons, Lucky's. He strode in to the building with an aura of confidence. Power suit, power tie, power stare. Three things that ensured obedience from his workers.
His secretary had already placed out his cofee on his desk: Black, the way he liked it. Sipping from the cup, he unfolded the newspaper which had been delivered to the firm. Deaths were paramont in the city these days. This time, three. He set his cofee down. This doesnt bode well... He had come into contact with one of his old friends, who had babled about a priceless statue called the "Maltese Falcon". He didnt know much about it, but he knew it was expensive. And if he got his hands on it, he could sell it. And that means he probably wouldnt have to work for a while. Picking up his next file, he sifted through it, intent on finishing his work early. He wanted to surprise his wife with a little... Anneversary gift. This time, he actually remembered.

-------------------------------------

I watched from Lucky's as he entered his office. Go figure, he would do something like this. Hide in his office. I needed to find some answers. So I think it was time to pay my boss a visit.

It wasn't long before I found the police station. I sited through the officerst rying to do their best: THey were probably on four different payrolls, but I didnt care. I needed to talk to the Cheif.

Cheif. You said that Orias was to be tailed. I cant find anything. I passed him a report. Photos, recordings, but nothing incriminating. I kept the coin in my pocket, however. What do you suggest?

Keep Tailing him. I want to know for sure. The cheif was gruff. It was all I could do to bear the pugnet odor of the cigars he kept. The haze filled the room with its heedy scent, but I needed to push through. I needed answers.

What about this S. Hadow fellow? He seems suspicious. I state, trying to get off of the Orias case.

Hes covered. Stay on Orias, keep us posted. Thats what your being paid for, snitch.

[Andre Fairchilde]

far be it from me to start a bandwagon but, barring evidence to the contrary which has not made it into my possesion, I accuse Eldritch Knight of being the wheat pirate "salty bob"(c) and everyone knows the wheat pirates are part of either the templars or the shadow agents, which ever is paying the most at the time.


(:smallbiggrin: You ALL kill me! RP is rewarded... :smallwink: )

[EmeraldRose]

The door to Lucky's opens, revealing a small elderly gentleman, carrying a briefcase. He briefly surveys the room, eyes wandering over the patrons, before settling finally on the large man seated at the bar. He walks over.

Mr. Graklok. I understand you are looking for employment? My patron is willing to offer a substantial amount to retain your services as a bodyguard. My card, sir...



Reginald H. Dewey, Esq.
Dewey, Cheatham & Howe
Attorney-at-law

[North]

North stands on a street corner. Guitar held. Hat on the ground. He begins singing quietly.

Surrounding me are strange faces
different people, different places
logic twisted, truth is shaken
hes not your friend your mistaken
Shadows surround, we are taken

*The guitar plays*

[Fleeing Coward]

I wake up in my room, a note from the Shadow Templars by my side, ready for another day of pure agony.
Why was I still alive? Why had they decided to let me live?
I had been so close that I could almost taste the sweet release of death and then he came. Dressed in black, 2 muscled goons by his side, he dragged me away from the mob that had howled for my blood and forced me continue my miserable existance. What right had he to deny me the one thing that I sought so long for? That one last thing that I wanted in life.
Looking around at the tiny apartment he had left me in, I got up, put on my cloak and headed out into the streets. Once again I went seeking for what he had chosen to deny me the previous day.
While the rest of town searched for the Falcon, I searched only for my death.

((Points at Self))

[EmeraldRose]

She waits in her offices for the return call from her barrister. Idly, she spins a tumbler of Irish Whisky, neat, on the top of her desk as she looks out the window at the city. From this angle and elevation, it appears almost clean. She can almost imagine it being a different place entirely...a different time...a place without the Falcon. She wonders briefly what things would've been like if it'd never come back into the city...

Everyone wants it, but no one knows who has it. She wonders briefly if the one who is trying the hardest to "get himself killed" is trying to hide something greater within a small lie...

She sees a figure wandering around outside in the streets, apparently aimlessly...

She picks up the phone. Find out everything you can on Fleeing Coward. I want to know where he's been, who he's been seen with, what he ate...all of it. The standard fee will apply.

She hangs up the phone, and sipping her drink, goes back to contemplating the city.

[Cult_of_the_Raven]

It was getting late, and I was waiting for my shift to end, reading a book from the shelf. I was about to close the shop when someone walked in and plopped down, ordering something black and heavily caffeinated.
Never one to turn out a customer, I quickly made his request. But something seemed odd. I handed him the cheap styrofoam cup, glancing up at his ragged face. He looked like he knew something, something that haunted him. I could tell that he dearly wanted to let it out, but was afraid to tell anyone.
I got it from him.
Well, I heard that this guy called Eldritch Knight was selling drugs on the street corner near where that guy was killed last night. Also, my mom told me that he was hired to go around killing babies and eating small children. It freaks me out, having a drug-dealing mercenary kid killer on the loose.

I nodded sympathetically. "Don't you worry. The cops will do something about him before he can eat any children, I'm sure."

[Eldritch Knight]

It was getting late, and I was waiting for my shift to end, reading a book from the shelf. I was about to close the shop when someone walked in and plopped down, ordering something black and heavily caffeinated.
Never one to turn out a customer, I quickly made his request. But something seemed odd. I handed him the cheap styrofoam cup, glancing up at his ragged face. He looked like he knew something, something that haunted him. I could tell that he dearly wanted to let it out, but was afraid to tell anyone.
I got it from him.
Well, I heard that this guy called Eldritch Knight was selling drugs on the street corner near where that guy was killed last night. Also, my mom told me that he was hired to go around killing babies and eating small children. It freaks me out, having a drug-dealing mercenary kid killer on the loose.

I nodded sympathetically. "Don't you worry. The cops will do something about him before he can eat any children, I'm sure."



"Me? Sell drugs? Kill children? I don't know where you got that information, but it is certainly untrue. I may be a two-bit criminal, but I have a strong sense of honor and that goes FAR over the line. I am as innocent as one could be in this town. I, like the rest of you want the falcon, not for the wealth or fame it'll bring me, but to destroy it, and claim my only chance to go legit. I'm tired of the criminal life. I've got dreams, aspirations. I'm going to be a Doctor!"

[Helgraf]

((Well, that's ... terrific. :smallyuk: I guess it's a good thing this was a restart, and I didn't have the Falcon in this one like I did in the one Joos ran. :smallmad: :smallfurious:

I guess I've graduated to the big leagues ... I'm getting killed earlier and earlier in these games. Go Me! :mitd: ))

[Endeavourl]

Lucky's was busy as usual, the haze of cigar smoke choking the air. A couple of barstools obscured the view towards Gimbert's table in the back corner, yet still allowing Gimbert to see those coming in. He was a careful one. I wave at one of the serving girls and shout out A pint of ale over here as I jerked my head towards Gimbert's table. Knowing Gimbert, he would already have his bottle of Scotch whiskey half finished.

Ende Boy! Gimbert extends his hand to grasp mine in a firm handshake. Gimbert was dressed in a brown cardigan and slacks, blending in to the corner. His Monarchy cap covered most of his greying hair.

Good game yesterday right? One more game and the Monarchy are into semifinals

I told you Cambridge has a couple of games left in him yet!

Johnson pitching tomorrow, we should have this all wrapped up.

They'd better!

The serving girl arrived with my pint of ale. My tab Briana. Now, the usual, I'll call if I need anything.

Gimbert waited until the serving girl walked out of earshot: I'm sure you've heard of last night's business.

Yeah, plastered all over the paper

One of our packages never made it in. I'll need you in tomorrow, I'll be sending Joey in to question Eldritch Knight, a fellow that was seen around where our courier boy was intercepted.

Yes Gimbert.

Now, about last afternoon...

I lowered my voice to a whisper, even with the privacy of Gimbert's back table. I...I saw an Agent at the station!

Gimbert looked at me with a somber face, and said, Boy, I think it's time you're told the true story of the Maltese Falcon

[Eldritch Knight]

Lucky's was busy as usual, the haze of cigar smoke choking the air. A couple of barstools obscured the view towards Gimbert's table in the back corner, yet still allowing Gimbert to see those coming in. He was a careful one. I wave at one of the serving girls and shout out A pint of ale over here as I jerked my head towards Gimbert's table. Knowing Gimbert, he would already have his bottle of Scotch whiskey half finished.

Ende Boy! Gimbert extends his hand to grasp mine in a firm handshake. Gimbert was dressed in a brown cardigan and slacks, blending in to the corner. His Monarchy cap covered most of his greying hair.

Good game yesterday right? One more game and the Monarchy are into semifinals

I told you Cambridge has a couple of games left in him yet!

Johnson pitching tomorrow, we should have this all wrapped up.

They'd better!

The serving girl arrived with my pint of ale. My tab Briana. Now, the usual, I'll call if I need anything.

Gimbert waited until the serving girl walked out of earshot: I'm sure you've heard of last night's business.

Yeah, plastered all over the paper

One of our packages never made it in. I'll need you in tomorrow, I'll be sending Joey in to question that drug dealer, Eldritch Knight, where that boy was intercepted.

Yes Gimbert.

Now, about last afternoon...

I lowered my voice to a whisper, even with the privacy of Gimbert's back table. I...I saw an Agent at the station!

Gimbert looked at me with a somber face, and said, Boy, I think it's time you're told the true story of the Maltese Falcon


OOC: Bloody Hell. Let me make one thing very VERY clear to all of you. Even though this is an RP-centric game, I DO NOT appreciate the fact that you are making my character out to be a Drug Dealer. I realize that I may be coming across as overly sensitive, but there are some lines that I draw VERY firmly in any RPG that I might be participating in. This is one of the more important ones. That being said, I now turn to my RP response.
EDIT: Don't worry about changing how you're RPing, just making it clear that my responses may be a little 'emotional'



"How many times do I have to tell you? I am not a Drug Dealer. I'm clean! I've been clean for the last 10 years! You don't know the trials I've gone through to get to this point! You don't know the people I've lost, or the lives I've ruined! I'd do anything to get back what I lost, but now I know that the only way I can make amends for everything I've done is to destroy the Falcon!"

[Endeavourl]

OOC: Bloody Hell. Let me make one thing very VERY clear to all of you. Even though this is an RP-centric game, I DO NOT appreciate the fact that you are making my character out to be a Drug Dealer. I realize that I may be coming across as overly sensitive, but there are some lines that I draw VERY firmly in any RPG that I might be participating in. This is one of the more important ones. That being said, I now turn to my RP response.



"How many times do I have to tell you? I am not a Drug Dealer. I'm clean! I've been clean for the last 10 years! You don't know the trials I've gone through to get to this point! You don't know the people I've lost, or the lives I've ruined! I'd do anything to get back what I lost, but now I know that the only way I can make amends for everything I've done is to destroy the Falcon!"

((Sorry, I'll go change that. I just took what Raven said and ran with it.))

[Traveling_Angel]

I heard the rumors about this EK. And just as soon as they started, I knew my gut had changed. Rumors can often come from envy, so maybe Shadow was to blame. I suddenly doubted that EK was guilty of what was laid against him.


((there, does that make you feel better EK?))

[Eldritch Knight]

"Look, if you're wondering why I stopped dealing drugs, here's why. It got my brother killed. Some ganger came by to hit me up for a fix, but I didn't have any available at the time. He got cranky, and pulled out his piece and started shooting up the joint. I pulled out Ol' Mandy, and blew the guy across the room. However, by that point the damage was done. My brother got hit right in the heart. Nothing I could do except hold him as he lay dying. He looked up at me, and with his dying breath said, "Don't make my mistake. Get clean. Live." Since then, I've been trying to go legit, and these accusations of my returning to my old ways really do not help in any way."

((OOC: Okay, I have no idea where this is coming from, so let's just role with it, okay?)

[Raiser Blade]

((OOC: Okay, I have no idea where this is coming from, so let's just role with it, okay?)


It took me like 2 minutes to get this but when i did i started busting up.

[Eldritch Knight]

((Egad... I made a pun, unintentionally... and I just got it. Boy, does that make me feel foolish..)

[Traveling_Angel]

((That was actually a pretty good pun. Or at least by my standards, and my family has a affinity for bad puns. ))

[Eldritch Knight]

((You should see some of the ones my family does... One day I shall make a pun that will make my father cringe, as his puns do to me.. That may not be for another 30 years, but I'm willing to wait.))

[Trix]

Jessie finished work early. Dave had been grateful for her covering him and coming in, so he had offered to come back in and finish her shift after she rested. Work that day had been busy, and after her conversation with the police today, she couldn't help but feel it was only the beginning cause the "Falcon" was in town.

She picked up the paper, even though she knew most of the information in it she would know, or it would be wrong. Reading page six she read the story of how Fleeing Coward had been rescued by the cities DA. It was questioned in the paper about the integrity of the DA, and then it just rambled on with some useless conjectures.

Why would someone go to the point of trying to get themselves killed by the city? Suicide by mob doesnt make sense... Since anyone who wants to can just shut off there mind for two days and their body will die automatically... I've seen it in the Morgue before. Its a much simplier way to go. So there must be something fishy about this FC guy...

[whitehelm]

I'm a little suspicious of this Eldritch Knight fellow.

[Jontom Xire]

((OOC: EK's defense was barely three or four lines long yet Shadow desribed it as "talky". The "he's trying to hard to defend himself, he must be guilty" theory has been exploded many many times. I can't believe Shadow would stoop so low and be so poor. The only thing I can think of is that he's desperate. Something else is going on and he needs someone else to die today. So I point at Shadow. Sorry old mate, but you look totally suspicious to me right now. ))

Lucky's was full of rumours flying around, the air was thicker with gossip than with the endless cloud of smoke that seemed to be as much a part of Lucky's as the bolted down tables. Raldor was claiming that the Templars had tried to recruit him and on the back of that was accusing EK, causing Mr Hadow to make a highly suspicious outburst. In the meantime Fleeing Coward still seemed to be determined to get himself killed. Well he could wait. The crowd seemed mostly determined to get either Hadow or Knight.

I got myself a whisky, found myself a quiet seat where I could overhear the gossip without being noticed, and settled down to await the arrival of the dame. I was sure she would turn up. Lucky's has that effect on people. Once you've been there once you go again and again.

[Freshmeat]

Journal Entry: Monday

The ease with which one becomes accustomed to life in this town surprises me even to this day. It dulls the senses, clouds one's judgement and wipes away all vestiges of morality. Not surprising for a town where honesty and survival are mutally exclusive.
Common greed drives the common man, and in this case, the object of their fascination is this 'Falcon'. I heard the tales of several years ago, where the hunt for that damn thing had done more to relieve joblessness than to instill order in this wretched place.

I'm still not sure why Joosbawx wanted to entrust me with the Falcon. Maybe he had mistaken me for someone else, though under normal circumstances, none of this should even matter.
With him dead and the package lost, all I need to do is walk away and never look back. But some sort of gut feeling seems intent on telling me otherwise.
I can't - shouldn't - turn a blind eye on that which I look down upon, on that which others cannot comprehend yet vie for regardless, what with their base need for money.
Fate has drawn me into this deadly game, and play I must.


Since I needed clues, I went to Lucky's, a haven for fools, drunkards, harlots and criminals alike. But inside those walls, everyone is the same. Between the boastful bragging and occassional slip-of-the-tongue (whether the result of a drunken stupor or nigh-suicidal bravado) there is always enough information to be found.
While yesterday there had been a lot of talk about 'The Fleeing Coward', today's descent into vile escapism has led me to many a whispered conversation, mostly about the three men that died last night. No one claimed to have seen or heard anything, which of course meant just about everyone knew all about it already. Money is the key to all truth, and everyone has their price.

First on the list was 'Helgraf', some sort of undercover cop. Word has it the religious nutjobs got him, which means they haven't forgotten about the Falcon either.
The second victim of tonight's deadly dance was a man who went by the moniker 'Radikalskippy'. Seemingly unaffiliated with any group whatsoever, this was probably a random killing by local mafiosi.
The last victim was a fairly young man named Vonriel, who had - strangely enough - been shot while he was trying on his halloween custome. No one knows what he was doing out on the streets yesterday, nor why he had a rusty gun on him that hadn't been cleaned in years and would probably jam almost every single time.


I witnessed some kind of argument today, between Silas Hadow and someone called 'Eldritch Knight'. Despite the rumors of the latter being involved in some sort of drug-related incident - whether true or not - I wouldn't put it past Hadow either to be involved in the shadowy excesses of this city.
Unable to determine right from wrong, right from righter and wrong from wronger, I decided to stay out of it, instead paying more attention to some of the bystanders and their accusatory fingers, such as whitehelm Eldritch Knight...

- Freddy Meadows

[Timberwolf]

Points at Shadow

No time for RP, but Shadow, well, is Shadow, in Mafia and is therefore doubly untrustworthy.

[Shadow]

Get a load'a the drunks in this hive.

A known drug dealer uses the words "accusation (twice I might add) and supposition" in the matter of three sentences, talking like you need some sort'a translator to figure out what he's sayin' and I'm the suspicious one?
And then the dope even explains exactly why I'm not suspicious for it, and uses that to say I'm guilty....?

No wonder daddy pulled the wool over these fools' eyes so many years ago.
They don't make any sense and can't understand reason.

It's too bad too.
Cuz I got me some juicy info last night. I found out that the moron these dopes use as a private **** followed [not naming the name] around last night. And I know everything that they found out.
Daddy's contacts are getting old, but at least they still manage to work well enough.

So, you point at me, suggesting that I might be a member of the Knights Templar. Sadly, such an accusation has no basis in reality, as there is no evidence to support such a supposition. I recommend that you provide clear evidence of any involvement I might have had in the foul play of the previous nights before making any such accusations.Seriously?
This doesn't strike you a odd?
Come on!

The "he's trying to hard to defend himself, he must be guilty" theory has been exploded many many times. I can't believe Shadow would stoop so low and be so poor. The only thing I can think of is that he's desperate. Something else is going on and he needs someone else to die today.And you've just explained why you have no need to worry about me.
We all know that I'm not that stupid.

I meant what I said. EK's response rubbed me the wrong way, and if it didn't do the same for you, I'll add you to my radar.

I don't care who dies today. Let it be me.
Lord knows I didn't expect to live through the first night anyway.

But if you kill me, you'll never know what I found out with the item that I had last night.

[Supagoof]

Graklok wakes up, the mark of the bar counter engrained in his face. How long had he been there, what had happened in his inebriated state. He rubbed at the mark to sooth the tingling sensation that arrives when blood rushes to an area. looking down, he spots a buisiness card. He mumbles the word on the card to himself.

Layer. Dewee, Da Cheat, and Who...hmm, wonder left this?

Flipping the card over, he sees a map drawed out on the back, with one word upon it.

Job?

Oh boy, work! He thinks. Settling his bar tab, he grabs his coat and heads out to find where the law firm is located. He hears murmers amongst the crowd at Lucky's, something about some night guy and how some shadow can't be trusted. Graklok knew not to trust a Shadow. He watched Peter Pan many times in his youth, and it all started with Peter chasing down his Shadow. Well, the movie had a happy ending, even with that Shadow starting all the trouble. Guess you just have to sew it up quickly or else. If it wasn't tied to his feet, that Shadow was nothing but trouble for the lost boys. Lost, like everyone seemed here. Speaking of here, where was I headed again. Getting his thoughts back to the task at hand, he recalls where he was following the map on the card. Oblivious to the old man in grey who was standing there waiting for him to wake up, Graklok stepped out into the street.

[HyramGraff]

It seems that the DA didn't think that my case against the fleeing coward was as open and shut as I thought it was. I looked again and noticed a few clues. One witness I interview had noticed a flash of steel near the crime sceen. Not the steel of a revolver, but the steel of a sword hilt. There's only one man in town I know of who carries a sword, and that made me suspicious of Eldritch Knight.

[CurlyKitGirl]

Lucky's again today. Home of the lowliest denizens this skulking city had to offer. And that's saying something. Shambling my way through the rubbish filled alleys and almost respectable streets I head in a circuitous route to Lucky's. Picking up some extra funds on the way.
Even to me some of todays patrons and workers were...bizarre. Scared and worried by the peculiar discussions in the seedy bar I left quickly and sought refuge in a small alley I called my own. I calmed myself down and ventured out towards the most hated section of the city.
Lawyer Land.
Even the scum of the earth looked down upon these soul sellers. But to assuage their guilt-ridden conscience they gave lots of money to beggars and people like me.

[Zar Peter]

So, the Falcon is back.
And I wanted to leave the village. Ha, silly me. I must find it to take away the burden of my family.
The shadow agents! No one in my family knew that my uncle was part of them until his dead. Then we found his diary and it was clear what he was searching for. He killed people without a thought just to get it. At last he even sacrificed himself for the good of his organisation. And they really got this damned thing.
And now it's here again, in this... this... city.
Full of lost people. They are all dead already, they just don't know it now.
I must go back and search. Where to begin? Lucky's, of course, but after my dismissal I can't show up there. Think I will lurk in the alley around there, then. Maybe the supermarket opposite Lucky's need a midnight cashier. I'll ask, I have nothing to lose.
Let's see who has more to lose today...
Eldritch Knight maybe?

[Eldritch Knight]

It seems that the DA didn't think that my case against the fleeing coward was as open and shut as I thought it was. I looked again and noticed a few clues. One witness I interview had noticed a flash of steel near the crime sceen. Not the steel of a revolver, but the steel of a sword hilt. There's only one man in town I know of who carries a sword, and that made me suspicious of Eldritch Knight.

((Judging by my Avatar are we?))
"I don't use a sword. Too messy, and far too personal. I don't like killing either, as that always ends in trouble. The only time I've ever taken the life of another is in defense of self, and of home. I wasn't even near the crime scene last night! I was watching TV at home and drinking a nice warm cup of tea."

[evnafets]

((no I haven't had time to keep up with this one. Hopefully will get some soon. In the mean time...))
evnafets points at Jontom Xire

[Crystall_Myr]

*Points at fleeing coward*

(RP will be added later. >.<)

[Andre Fairchilde]

Outside the rain is falling, but inside the warehouse three trucks are being emptied. They were full of Whiskey – Stearns County #13, and each of the barrels – 46 in all were being rolled out, and stacked. The next step was taking them upstairs to be bottled, and then shipped back out to the different speakeasies around town.

The three workers work methodically, and quickly. They were all new, but it was easy money and they were also paid in a little whisky too.

There were also a few guards, but they smoked cigarettes and talked about the dancers at Fat Sam’s Grand Slam Speakeasy (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hNfB58oBjA0).

They did not hear the approaching sedans, nor did they hear the footsteps come up to the door.

All work halted when BOOMBOOMBOOM! “OPEN UP! REVENUE DEPARTMENT!” was shouted outside the door.

One of the guards hurried to the door shouting “OK, OK, we’ll open up!”

He opened the door to the rain – “Don’t bust it in, it’ll come out of my pay. Come on in, come on in, look around.”

As the dozen officers – police officers, federal agents, and all came in the four workers and two guards walked over to one of the walls.

“We don’t got any Tommy Guns here – not shotguns, no gats. So, no charges except the whisky. It’s what, $100 bucks a barrel, right?”

One agent, the leader replied – “Just line up against the wall. All of you. Turn around, we got to frisk you to be sure.” He spoke in a European accent.

The prisoners complied staring at the wall in front of them, arms outstretched and waiting for the inevitable frisking, the Templars all drew their swords and walked toward their victims…

These four heretics would not be walking home in the rain tonight…


Autolynched:
Almighty Salmon - Citizen
Khaldan - Shadow Agent
Kyrian - Citizen
Malmagor Andrigal - Citizen


On the other side of town an Eldritch Knight has irritated the entire bar at Lucky’s and the entire mob is screaming for his head. First they chased him out of the bar, and the crowd kept growing. As they ran through the streets more, and more people joined in the chase. Soon, hundreds of people were chasing Eldritch Knight – for today there was no-one more hated, more loathed. In desperation he ran down to the docks, hoping swim out to a ship heading to Canada, but a sedan pulled up beside him just as he was about to leap into the water.

“Get in! You’re safe with us!”


Eldritch Knight was placed in protective custody by the D.A. Eldritch Knight was saved by the D.A.




Day 2 Ends! Night 2 Begins and will end 6:00 PM, October 19th!
CITY WIDE ELECTIONS FOR MAYOR TO BE HELD!


There will be an election for MAYOR of the city. Nominations will be by post. The voting will be blind pm's to me, and yes - there is buying of votes! After all THE FIX IS IN for this city. Elections will take place ove the next 2 days starting THIS VERY NIGHT PHASE - the results of the election will be revealed on start of Day 4. Post questions in character, and I'll answer them here. It is possible to nominate a dead person for Mayor! It has been done before. AND the dead have voted. The election is NOT for the lynch - that will be a separate vote. And there will be more than one winner in the mayoral election, as behind every politician there's a mob or union of some sort...

[Fleeing Coward]

((Hehe, guess the DA just ain't gonna let anyone die to lynching yet))

[The Valiant Turtle]

((Is the DA being allowed to send in his protection after pointing has begun or something? If not we've got one heck of a psychic DA))

[Andre Fairchilde]

((Is the DA being allowed to send in his protection after pointing has begun or something? If not we've got one heck of a psychic DA))

(err...yes? It's a day phase action....)

[Alarra]

(that seems a bit....overpowered actually....most day baners in the past have had to turn in their action the night before.)

[Raiser Blade]

That is waaay overpowered. That basically means we can't lynch anyone the D.A. doesn't want us too.

[Andre Fairchilde]

(I will absolutly entertain a chat about this. As I read the rules, and in discussion with the D.A. we both read the rule - as currently written - that there was a day input, and a night input.

But, that does not mean it has to stay that way.

If I'm online - which I am now at [email protected] - I would love to discuss with whomever has any input.)


(Rules updated - D.A. no longer recruitable. More will be posted as develops.)

[Eldritch Knight]

Thank You!!

[Helgraf]

((Oh, joy, I still get to do something. I can vote for Mayor!))

[Helgraf]

((Oh, joy, I still get to do something. I can vote for Mayor!

Actually, you know what? I nominate me for Mayor!

I promise if elected that my filibusterous speeches and public improvement projects will be shining examples of RP in a bleak hopeless world!))

[Khaldan]

Vote for Khaldan for mayor!

Vote for khaldan-because a zombie shadow agent isn't the most screwed up leader, then who else is?

[Andre Fairchilde]

EXTRA!!!!EXTRA!!!!EXTRA!!!!

The illustrious Helgraf is running for mayor. Helgraf, the son of Helgraf recently deceased has claimed that he will make this city a...This article paid for by the Citizens to Elect Helgraf for a Better City see Page 2 for more.



EXTRA!!!!EXTRA!!!!EXTRA!!!!

The illustrious Khaldan is running for mayor as well. Khaldan, the nephew of Khaldan recently deceased has claimed that he will make this city a...This article paid for by the Citizens to Elect Khaldan for a Better City see Page 2 for more.

[Raiser Blade]

Vote Me for Mayor!!

If you don't i will introduce you to a certain idea i had during an "interesting" chat with some fellow mafia players.

[Eldritch Knight]

Eldritch Knight for mayor! You can trust him to be Dishonest!

[Freshmeat]

I'll be running for mayor as well.

Need someone who is not in league with any criminal and/or religious organisation? Someone whose devotion to this city is not in doubt?

Vote for Freshmeat now, before he might decide to unleash campaign speeches so long they finish somewhere in the year 2041 (and we're somewhere in the 30's or so now, so that's even worse than it sounds), as well as use his wannabe-photoshop-but-actually-paint-skills to unleash quite possibly the ugliest campaign posters known to man.

So vote for Freshmeat!

[Jontom Xire]

The DA is a difficult one. If he has to send in his vote at night he's nearly useless unless there is a surefire victim for the next day (as in the previous game where he almost saved the game for the citizens but failed to protect the next day as well). However this really only puts him on a par with the night baner who has no idea who will get hit either and so is only useful to protect themself or the seer if they know who that is.

So to make the day baner the same as the night baner in terms of power, selection of protection should be at night. Otherwise it's equivalent to the night baner being told who is going to be killed before they choose who to protect! And I think everyone will agree that that is very unbalancing to the game.

I also don't see why the day baner, if he has to pick at night, shouldn't be recruitable.

[Fleeing Coward]

((The DA is the night and day baner rolled into one JX))

[Jontom Xire]

Oh, yeah of course. I was also partly thinking of YOW where they're two different people. Perhaps he shouldn't be recruitable then. I still don't think he should get to choose who to protect when he knows who's going to be lynched though.

[Skippy]

Vote RS for mayor! Because a drunk mayor is better than no mayor at all!

[Andre Fairchilde]

Here's some words from the D.A.

Oh, yeah of course. I was also partly thinking of YOW where they're two different people. Perhaps he shouldn't be recruitable then. I still don't think he should get to choose who to protect when he knows who's going to be lynched though.


((I disagree - the baner is not the seer, so sure they have an advantage in the day by being able to kinda focus on whose going to be lynched, but they are just not sure who that person is. Where there's two teams out killing everynight, plus a vigilante, so to really bring the DA down to complete random guessing for each of the protection only hurts a mathmatically unbalanced equation.

The rules of the game have stated if you make your role public, you die, so it's not like the DA can come out and have the seer contact him easily. So I think that the DA should continue with the abilities as is. I mean think about it as if you're in a city filled with mafia organization. You think Al Capone would have attacked Elliot Ness?

Actually, this was exactly why Dutch Schultz was killed by Lucky Luciano and the syndicate in 1935. Dutch Schultz was going to kill the U.S. Attorney Thomas Dewey. Luciano and the syndicate just couldn't let them generate the heat. Schultz was shot in the guts and took 22 hours to die. Just some mob history - AF ~

I do agree the DA shouldn't be recruitable. Doing so only gives the organization that recruits them too much control of the game. Especially if the organization has the falcon.

Done. D.A. can no longer be recruited. Permanently a Good Guy.

Just like I agree with them making the day saves until we can figure things out. From this way thinking, we should be looking at who is being killed. That gives us an indication on who to lynch. We just need to find out whose pulling the strings.

And tell the citizens I don't mean to take away their kills, I'm just looking out for two groups who can form a bandwagon without trying and lead a bunch of unknowns along. The "He's not on my team, kill him" bandwagon. And, I've got some evidence now from the voting, so I'll stop protecting the unknowns. You have my word on that as the D.A.))


OH - and on that note - Night actions due. No other reminders. Night ends at 6:00 PM Central Standard Time, U.S. - about 6 hours from time of this edit. Night will end early if all inputs are early - giving a little longer day.

[whitehelm]

I vote Helgraf for mayor due to his high-quality posts in Mafia.

[Andre Fairchilde]

They sat in the back of the sedan. The rain was falling in sheets on the car, and they were beyond bored waiting for their target to come out of the speakeasy. They didn’t know who he was, only that he wore black, had a black hat, and wore a mask.

2 minutes of silence. Rain patter pattering on the roof of the car. 2 Minutes is all he could manage before…

Young mobster - “I put garlic on my bullets. I take a bunch of cloves, crush them up, and roll my bullets in them. I even let the tips soak in the oil.” (http://www.straightdope.com/columns/060519.html)

2 minutes of silence.

Old mobster - “What?! That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. You’re an idiot. Why would you put garlic on your bullets? You going to feed it to them?”

Young mobster - “Because it’s poison, that’s why. If I hit ‘em but don’t kill ‘em they’ll still be poisoned.”

2 minutes of silence.

“What, garlic is poison? But I eat garlic all the time. How come I’m not dead? Wait is that him?”

Two figures walk out of the bar, turn right and continue down an alleyway.

“No, those guys..”

His sentence was cut off as a dozen figures burst out of hiding to assail the car with swords! One sword stabs through the windows, but the older mobster lays his seat back ducking one blow by inches.

The younger mobster plunges into the back as swords are plunged through the roof into and through the ceiling as well!

The younger mobster grabs his tommy gun from the back and just starts letting go, blindly hosing through the ceiling, the sides of the sedan, and out the windows.

RATTAT RATTAT RATTAT RATTAT RATTAT RATTAT RATTAT RATTAT

Shells go flying all over the car, as he empties the entire 50 round clip of .45 ACP ammo.

There is no more car roof. There is no more right side of the car. The rain is pouring down, right on the two gangsters heads, sopping up their hair, drowning them in the moment.

One templar lies dead on the ground, all the others have vanished.


Alarra – a Templar knight – was killed by the Shadow Agents.



People start fleeing the neighboring speakeasy, and there is pandemonium while the police arrive.

The two shadow agents flee the scene, before they have to answer any questions.

A few blocks away the two people that left the speakeasy catch a few moments to breathe.

“Whew! That sounded like a war back there!”

They hear another set of voices “He ran this way! After him!”

“Wait, this thing weighs 9 pounds, and we can’t see him in the dark! He wears BLACK!”

A masked figure runs past the two bystanders, he pauses, turns around and fires several shots at his pursuers.

The two unfortunate bystanders watch as he reloads his pistol, but he sees them.

From around the corner, the gangsters begin to shoot into the alley way.

The Shadow returns fire, throws a smoke grenade at the gangsters, and escapes to the roof on some kind of grappling hook.

When the Gangsters come down the alley, they shoot blindly into the alleyway as the younger mobster again empties the entire 50 round drum of bullets RAT TAT RAT TAT RAT TAT RAT TAT RAT TAT RAT TAT RAT TAT RAT TAT RAT TAT RAT TAT!



Due to the Shadow ducking out of the way from the fight with the mobsters Llama was killed. Llama was killed by the Shadow.

Eldritch Knight picked up one of the guns the Shadow dropped and started firing back into the smoke cloud, which caused the mobsters to fire back again. Eldritch Knight was also killed in a hail of bullets aimed at the Shadow.

Llama and Eldritch Knight were The Lovers – Llama was killed by the Shadow meaning that Eldritch Knight was killed as well. They were Lovers – Good.



Looking over the carnage, the kid mobster said “I need more ammo.”

“Kid, I don’t know whether to laugh or cry when you use that thing!”


EXTRA!!! EXTRA!!! EXTRA!!!
3 MORE BODIES TO THE MORGUE

DAY BEGINS! DAY WILL END SUNDAY OCTOBER 21 AT 6:00 PM CST!

The mortuary is overflowing in this town as the gang wars between the Shadow Agents and some religious cult are fighting. No one seems to know what the fighting is over, but most citizens feel it is business as usual.

One townsperson was quoted as saying “In this town you can either buy anything or take it! But only if you have either the money or the muscle. All the rest of use are just stuck at the bottom. I think there’s hope though…”

MAYORAL ELECTION HEATED
There have been many nominations, but even though not nominated Timberwolf is currently seen as the front runner, even though public opinion seems to point to Helgraf. Much public outcry expected…

[Supagoof]

((So the first person on my list is the one who tried to frame EK, and that's Raldor - but knowing the depths to which people can manipulate others, I will point at Shadow.))

Graklok comes out of the law firm. A smile upon his face. He turns and leans his back against the side of the doorway and lights a cigarette. Taking a few puffs, he looks down the street and sees the remains of an old Cadilac sedan, roof blown completely off. Police are on the scene pulling shells out of everywhere. The building fronts look like swiss cheese. Graklok looks curiously at the scene before a large truck rolls by with a man leaning out yelling into a megaphone "Vote Helgraf for Mayor". Why not? Graklok thinks. He seemed wike a nice guy. Yep, Graklok was a big dumb stooge swept away in the fast pace of the city. You see, Graklok didn't read very well, so in fact he hadn't read that Helgraf was dead. Still, others supported him, and Graklok heard things just fine.

[Shadow]

I tell ya, it's just like my daddy told me. Nothing ever changes in this town.
The "he's trying to hard to defend himself, he must be guilty" theory has been exploded many many times. I can't believe Shadow would stoop so low and be so poor. The only thing I can think of is that he's desperate. Something else is going on and he needs someone else to die today.The fool even says that he can't believe that I'd be so poor. And still he thought I was guilty.
((So the first person on my list is the one who tried to frame EK, and that's Raldor - but knowing the depths to which people can manipulate others, I will point at Shadow.))And now this retarded thuggish guy plainly says that I'm not the first person on his list. And still he thinks I'm guilty.

It's just like my old man told me, I swear.
Nothing ever changes in this town.

And I'll never live down Pop's reputation....

*Shadow points at Supagoof*

[Timberwolf]

I sat in Lucky's and thought. Alarra was dead. And she was a Templar. I thought she was just another fluffhead, out to make my life difficult. Shows that you can never know someone. Not even after they pinch your supply of free liquor.

I still felt that Shadow was a good choice for one of those who was after the Falcon but I couldn't prove it. So I decided not to make any decisions for now. I resolved to keep an eye on others as well. Perhaps someone would make a slip.

So, I had been right about Alarra, anyway. She had been after the Falcon. However, I had one regret about her passing. I would now never get to ram an entire bucket of ice cubes down the back of that oh so perfect red top.

Well, here's to you Alarra. Doubtless scoring free drinks wherever crazy ass Templars go.

((Errrrr, how come I'm a non nominated mayoral frontrunner...?))

[Eldritch Knight]

I take great pleasure in saying this......


I TOLD YOU SO!

[Traveling_Angel]

Alright, I'd like to claim to be the Pasty. I scried Allara, and got Citizen.

So whoever is the real Private Eye, your the authentic one. *sighs*

And did the Templar kill?

[Alarra]

(*sigh* the only game I actually wanted to play in....I guess now I can take that break I've been meaning to. Someone email me if llama llama duck starts. Playground Squares will be actually starting in 2 weeks when I decide to come back)

[Supagoof]

*snip*The fool even says that he can't believe that I'd be so poor. And still he thought I was guilty.[i]And now this retarded thuggish guy plainly says that I'm not the first person on his list. And still he thinks I'm guilty.*snip*


Huh? Graklok says looking around, hearing the comments as S.Hadow walks by motioning at him.

Hey yeah, Graklok knews yer dad. He wuz funny cook guy, or rook guy, or something between. You tink yer funny too, do ya? Mum alway told Graklok dat apple not far fall with tree, or sumting. Graklok know stuff, and Graklok no foo', foo'.

((And sorry Shadow, it's the "middle of the road" people you listed off in a pm from another game awhile back that are being killed. Putting 2 and 2 together....))

[Shadow]

((Alarra, EK, Llama, Helgraf? How do you figure that those players are "middle of the road"? Looking over that list, I can safely say that the only reason that I'm still alive is because everyone expects me to get lynched because I'm me. And they'd be pretty damned right about it, I'd say. Eventually this whole "Rule of Shadow" nonsense will blow over, and I'll be killed on night one again, as per normal.))

((And I'm still waiting on a response from you. You know who you are. And I know that you've been on and seen my PM, so get to it, huh!))

[Helgraf]

(*sigh* the only game I actually wanted to play in....I guess now I can take that break I've been meaning to. Someone email me if llama llama duck starts. Playground Squares will be actually starting in 2 weeks when I decide to come back)

((Yeah, you and me both. *Grumble* Don't suppose I can count on your support for my bid for mayor from the afterlife? ;) ))

[Emperor Demonking]

"Whitehelm still looks jolly, suspicious." Says the paranoid investigator. "But then again it is weird about shadow."

[Freshmeat]

(Holding my vote 'til we get more, if any, information on:)


But if you kill me, you'll never know what I found out with the item that I had last night.

[androgial]

A non descript looking car pulled through the neighborhoods, speaker blaring the phrase "make your mayoral campaign contributions at forthwright and forthwright. your funds donted will go directly to the candidate you support. you may also register to vote at that time for a mere 5 dollar fee."

[Andre Fairchilde]

ZAR PETER TAKES SURPRISE LEAD FOR MAYOR

The mayoral election is heating up as dark horse Zar Peter's campaign is gaining momentum...

(There are two ways to get votes in this election - on the board, and by pm to me. The PMs represent the behind the scenes maneuvering - the unions, the school boards, etc. all their support behind a candidate or party.

The public votes and nominations (i.e. Helgraf, etc.) are the public's view - the posters, the bill boards, the door knocking, etc.

Both of these have an effect on the campaign - especially as the power's that be representing 'The Fix' get involved in the election too. Their votes weigh a little more in this.

Also, the Mayor does exactly what the three forces want it to do - with my input as the GM. The behind the scenes nominator (PM nomination) has a say of what they expect the winner to be able to do. The mayor that is elected has a choice too - image a mayor elected that completly ignores the electorate. And finally, the townspeople - the citizens voting in the main thread have an expectation for their mayor too - whether the post means nothing, or everything is up to the voters.

This is the only such activity in this game.

Hopefully, this will be a fun thing - not any kind of gamebreaker. Certainly the mayor will hopefully have a separate trophy.)

[Zar Peter]

Zar Peter, behind his desk at the supermarket, raises his head as he reads the newsline.

That's.... unexpected! Let's see how this goes.
Next customer, please! What do we have here...

[Emperor Demonking]

The paranoid detective looks around. "Helgraf can't abuse his powers. I vote for him."

[Freshmeat]

(How about we spice all of this up a little bit?)

Those of you who have woken up early today are greeted to the sight of campaigning posters decorating the walls all over the city.
As you walk around the town you see more and more smiling faces inviting you to vote for them, accompagnied by fine print and flashy colors - a tribute to how the masses so dearly cling to democracy. How dearly they cling to hope.
But amongst these posters you see one that is decidedly smaller. One with plain black text on white paper. At first you pay no attention to it, but as you move on, you see the exact same poster again. And again.
As a matter of fact - now that you're actually looking for it - you notice that it's almost as common as every other campaign poster.
Whatever the message contains, the person behind it wants his message to get across.

Curious, you stop and take a look.
To your surprise, it's not a campaign poster at all.

---


Fellow citizens!

Are you fed up with the crime in this city?
Are you sick of the Templars and the Mafia?

And do you intend to do something about it?

So are we!


This once-great town deserves a better fate than being a playground for vice, corruption, prostitution and petty gang wars. This city belongs to the people, those who maintain the order - NOT those who seek to use its resources to further their own ends.



It's time for justice!


However, the question on everyone's mind is:
"How can we stand against the Templars and the Mafia?"

Fear not! This town houses many specialists, including an experienced private eye, his assistant, our honorable district attorney and the ever-present vigilante 'The Shadow', as well as all those who seek to emulate his mysterious ways.
But even humble citizens can support our cause.
After all, every vote against a mafioso or templar is a vote for freedom.



It's time to stand together against oppression and tyranny!

It's time to join The Watchmen.


All questions should be directed to Freddy Meadows, communications manager. You can contact him at 514-888-8888.

In other words, PM me. I'll be protected tonight.
Those with the ability to scry me may do so at their own discretion. The mole is dead, so no need to worry about that.
I have irrefutable proof that my employer is indeed the role he claims to be.

That is all.

[Trix]

Jessie stepped out of the Morgue, She had had a busy day. 3 more bodies. The cops were not kidding when they expected the return of the Falcon to be excessively bloody.

She started to walk home and couldnt help notice all the new advertisements for the city Mayor election. She didnt know who to vote for yet, so she wasnt really willing to tell the poll collectors who she might vote for.

Unlocking the door to her apartment, she picked up a slip of paper that had been slipped under her door. It was the watchmen advertisement. She sat down on her bed and read the flyer over. She was a bit concerned, and didnt know what this meant for the city next.

[Supagoof]

((Alarra, EK, Llama, Helgraf? How do you figure that those players are "middle of the road"? Looking over that list, I can safely say that the only reason that I'm still alive is because everyone expects me to get lynched because I'm me. And they'd be pretty damned right about it, I'd say. Eventually this whole "Rule of Shadow" nonsense will blow over, and I'll be killed on night one again, as per normal.))

((And I'm still waiting on a response from you. You know who you are. And I know that you've been on and seen my PM, so get to it, huh!))

((Yeah, get to responding to Shadow's manipulative work behind the scenes. :smallamused:

And the only reason "middle of the road" came up is because that is the label you used in that PM - not for all of them mind you, but 2 of the 4. Careful with your words Shadow, I've seen enough of them to see right through them. Just like the word your using trying to accuse me of being a fool. I've made no claim to being a seer or having the insight as one. Yet there it is, put out there as a possibility by you. :smallcool:

And that "Rule of Shadow nonsense" is, in fact, a bed you made. I'm just going to make sure you sleep in it. :smalltongue: Unlike everyone else so far....))

[Timberwolf]

What the hell, I'm out tomorrow so I've got to point now and Supagoof makes enough sense for me to go with him. So I will. I'm very curious also to learn what this mysterious item Shadow allegedly used to find something out, as per Freshmeat's quote. What with this not being YoW and all. I'm obviously missing something really big but I can't help but see that as a somewhat clumsy and well below Shadow's usual standard attempt to make himself too valuable to kill and therefore save his hide.

Points at Shadow.

[Raiser Blade]

I'm too confuzzled in the goof/shadow thing so i won't point either way.

If anyone has any leads please pm me and i'll chage my vote but for now [S]*point at self.

[Andre Fairchilde]

EXTRA!!!EXTRA!!!EXTRA!!!
HELGRAF TAKES STUNNING LEAD FOR MAYORAL RACE

I just want to help help people...


(5 votes, Shadow's in the lead with 2 votes.
Endeavourl is on the hook for autolynch if no vote. (I missed the vote.)

Day Ends in 18 hours.

Election results and a new mayor will be announced, as will the days lynch/autolynch.

1st post to be updated shortly with vote tally.)

(Other election results will be posted in the morning as well.)

EDIT - Also, Trix is out of town and votes for Whitehelm.

[Helgraf]

Being dead was, on the whole, damnedably inconvienient.

It had taken days, but I'd finally managed to push myself out my own remains and through the nightsoil above. Amusement rippled across my face like a pond disturbed by pebbles cast by antsy children.

Mayor. Hmmm, yes ... there was something to be said for it. Being the city's first incorporeal mayor would certainly amuse him until whenever it was decided that his work here was done.

Now, of course, I needed to garner some additional support. I gazed around the city, seeking out the other recent dead. After all, it had been proven that the dead voted in this burg. Might as well get them to vote for me.

The living would be a bit trickier, but I would soldier on. There were certainly enough frauds and charlatans claiming to see those who'd passed on - at least one of them surely had a glimmer of actual talent.

Two ham-hands flexed, fingers interwove and bridged, the sound of phantom knuckles cracking a temporary salve for a disquiet I'd hardly realized I'd been feeling.

No more time to waste. It was time to get the wheels turning. I meandered my way down to Lucky's walking through the severely drunk fellow occupying the doorway and causing him to bring up the poison in his belly as a consequence. A slight sniff. Too bad. For a wino, he had good taste in booze.

Floating over to the bar, I passed my hand through one of the bottles of scotch a few times until the slight disturbance caused by the passage of my phantom fingers caused the liquor within to slosh back and forth. Eventually, this caught the attention of the barkeep.

The next part was trickier. I wound my left hand up into a fist and began to breath really slowly in and out. Yeah, I know, the dead don't need to breath. This was a focusing exercise I'd learned from an old contact who did business with the East Asia cartel. Claimed it was derived from Tai Chi or some such rot. Maybe. I wouldn't know about that sort of thing. I just know that when I was alive, when I focused just so, this oversized frame of mine could move like water; an advantage that often surprised the living daylights out of someone thinking that just because I'm big that I must be an easy target. Mind you, it was usually my fists that beat the living daylights out of them next.

Anyway ... where was I? Oh, yeah ... focus. In ... out ... rise ... fall ... glide ... and ... there. I jammed my clenched fist into Lucky's face, the fingers passing through flesh and bone effortlessly.

That was the easy part. Any ghost could do that much and to no effect. Now ... now ... that focus ... applied just ... so. With what one of the acoustics engineers once called 'just a wobble of treble'. A trickle of energy made manifest. Not enough to damage anything, just enough to make the guy's grey matter cogiate a little differently.

I pulled my hand outta his head before the effect took hold. After all, seeing a ghost with his hand buried inside of your face is bound to be considered a bit unsettlin'.

Ahh, there it was. That slight flash of recognition. And the double-take, of course. But he was a pro, Lucky was, and the dt was gone almost as quick as it had come.

"Scotch double, straight" I said to him. A couple of the patrons looked at him oddly as he set my order in front of what looked like an empty spot at the bar.

"Okay Lucky. I know you know people, and I want to make that work for me. In exchange, I can make sure certain things work for you. Convienient like. I'm going to be Mayor, and you're going to facilitate dat.

Lucky nodded, topped off my drink which had, to neither of our own surprises, been slowly draining from the glass. I offered one of my more ... friendly ... smiles. When the glass emptied, I lurched over toward the door and looked down at the wino still supine within it.

Focus ... and preserverance. The fact his mind was already halfway open from the flood of booze made it easier. A little cradle of a little gland got the fear juice flooding his veins, and he practically threw himself out of the bar in his haste to get away from ... something he wouldn't even be able to consciously recall.

Yeah. It was time.

[Shadow]

Completely OOC:
What the hell, I'm out tomorrow so I've got to point now and Supagoof makes enough sense for me to go with him. So I will. I'm very curious also to learn what this mysterious item Shadow allegedly used to find something out, as per Freshmeat's quote. What with this not being YoW and all. I'm obviously missing something really big but I can't help but see that as a somewhat clumsy and well below Shadow's usual standard attempt to make himself too valuable to kill and therefore save his hide.

Points at Shadow.You guys are hilarious.
See Timberwolf, you're doing it to..
"I know that he's not playing up to his potential like normal. And I know that this is a below average defense considering it's him. But I'm still going to point at him...."

That's fine. With massive family issues it might be a blessing in disquise to have a tiny bit more free time. Just peruse te thread after my death to see who wanted me gone the most. That'll give you a place to start looking after you all find out for certain that I'm a citizen. :smallwink:

[Traveling_Angel]

Not so random point at Rasier B1ade

((Note: If you got anything, go ahead, don't see why to lynch Shadow just yet))

[Raiser Blade]

@^ Why the hate? I see why you don't want to lynch shadow but him and goof are so convincing it's hard to guess who's right. Then again maybe their both wrong. *Point at zar peter



I am voting for zar but timberwolf is acting suspicous too.

[North]

The poor musician is standing at the street corner. Lit by the dying light and faded neon he plays.


Its three hours past midnite
and I still cant fall asleep.
No one is safe at night
theres more wolves then sheep.
Caught in a gang war
all around me is a waterfall,
blood pooling in the gutter
the pride before the fall.

And the day begins....

Fingers flying everywhere
there is no friend just foe.
Everyone pleads innocent
how you gonna' know.
Lovers caught in a crossfire
our Modess gunned down
cuz when you live by the sword
you end up in the ground

And the day begins.....


He counts the change in has hat after the days work. Maybe enough for a hot meal and a cup of coffee. Damn. Troubled times meant less generousity. Maybe Luckys would hire him. Yeah and maybe pigs would fly. Maybe he would see Em Rose there. Maybe he could get the money she owed him. A lot of maybes.

[Freshmeat]

"Lot a people say this city looks like Hell," Allie said. She took a long drag from her cigarette.
The glowing tip burned a hole in the darkness.

"Most people never been to Hell," Jacob said.

She looked at him and he could hear the smile in her voice. "And I suppose you have?"

Jacob said nothing, then stood and walked to the bed. Allie let out a small noise and shrank back against the pillows as if she'd claw her way into them if she could. He leaned down close to her ear.

"You like to play games," he whispered. "And that's fine. But you don't want to be playing games with me, because I'm the one honest man in this city. You should know that, since we were married."


***

Freddy closed the book and looked up. He remembered the headlines, detailing the deaths of another three people. All of them innocent, save for a single Templar knight.

Putting the book aside, he rose and walked over to the window. His appartment was possibly the only refuge this town had to offer from itself and its violent excesses. A safe haven where the walls were plastered with cut-out newspaper articles and where a gun could be found in every drawer.

Timberwolf hadn’t been campaigning, yet rumor had it she had taken an early lead in the preliminary votes. While Zar Peter, possibly related to one of the criminal factions in the city, as well as Helgraf, son of - surprisingly enough - also Helgraf had later joined her in the 'mayorial candidates to beat' list, this entire election was beginning to look like a serious fraud.

How could any candidate become this popular without any campaigning? Surely not without the backing of either the Templars of the Shadow Agents. Unless this was a set-up of epic proportions, against a citizen no less, this was naught but a way to get a corrupt official elected for mayor. And that was about the last thing this city needed.

Something had to be done, and it had to be done now. He’d go to Lucky’s that night. Perhaps he could get that bloody woman Timberwolf driven out of town. Or worse, for no price would be too high to pay if the result was ridding this town of all vermin.

Chuckling to himself nervously, he picked up the book again. He flipped the pages to the point where he had stopped reading, a hint of fanatic devotion in his eyes...


***

It was late when he got back. Everything black and quiet. Jacob killed the lights but didn't take the key out of the ignition. He reached into his pocket and took out a little box with an LCD display, thumbed a button and the radio transceiver captured the last few hours worth of motion sensor logs from the building. He'd done some favors for friends in the Shop -- or whatever it was they were calling it this week -- and they'd installed it to spec for him.

As he walked to the door he was still arranging all the pieces in his head. Sure way to get his ass taken down, but he couldn't help it. Something was missing. Didn't fit. Allie hunched over in the bathroom, that needle dangling from between her toes. Katsuya shifting a half million yen before the currency market closed. The radio station Samuel had turned him on to, the one with the little girl repeating all those numbers in sequence. And somewhere in the middle...

Jacob stopped, looked up at the night sky. He'd been assuming that there were two sides to this game and both were playing to win. But what if...what if there was someone else, and they wanted to see both sides lose?

[whitehelm]

Hmmm...EmeraldRose, you've been abnormally quiet this game, how come?

[Andre Fairchilde]

1.5 HOURS LEFT TO VOTE


Have not voted for Day 3: (NOT an Auto list)
Crystall Myr
Cult of the Raven
evnafets
Fleeing Coward
HyramGraff
Korias

[CurlyKitGirl]

It had been a long crushing day; my 'family', as they so kindly called themselves had been dragging me down that road. One that I can never take; for it would cause me to lose what little pride I had. "Whoring will give you money." they say. But I'll be damned thrice over in Hell if I ever took that route.
What could a skinny little runt lke me ever make herself? Might as well start business as some ghost-nut. Ghosts exist, but why should I bother them?
They're certainly friendlier than the human monsters strutting their egos through a city rotten to the core. Pretending to care about the circumpect spiral into a grey one step from the blackness of sheer inhumanity; "A new Mayor will make everything better! Vote for Helgraf - the dead man! Vote for Freshmeat, Shadow, Zar Peter." What kind of equality is that? They're all the same. "Well, if a certain fund would suddenly cme into the notce of the Myor, I could see to destroying that neighbourhood for you Mister Mafia." Hah.
No democracy here. The graceful bottomfeeders and the ugy rich get who they want. All it takes is some grease to ease you in. We don't figure into it; but we're only The People. What can we do? Live, work and jack. Except for those who haven't got a job in this pit of Hades. But there's a way for me; not luckily. But guts. Takes that to get anywhere.

[The Valiant Turtle]

Ralashar points at Zar Peter. I wonder why so many people want that fellow for Mayor?

[Zar Peter]

So much dead people. So much confusion in this town. I should have taken the train. No one seams to know about the falcon.
Maybe Timberwolf is hiding something.

[Jontom Xire]

Well there went my plans. An easy mark, money to be made, and it turns out she was a templar. Was being the operative word 'cos the only person she'd be paying now was the undertaker. That was a wasted day's work. Still, the Falcon was in town and when the Falcon was in town there was bound to be work for me. All I had to do was figure out who had it. And there was other stuff going on too. There were clues flying around, I'd been concentrating too much on the main hit, the main big income. The Dame dying was maybe not such a bad thing. It'd make me concentrate more on what counted. Getting information. Getting information and then selling it.

Word was the DA was done protecting all and everyone. Good in a way 'cos now maybe we could start lynching people and figuring out who was who. Bad in a way because it might be my neck the DA would need to save next. I never could figure out why the DA would bother to save that Fleeing Coward guy. There was a guy who wanted to die, and when a guy wants to die, die he will, and probably sooner rather than later. Anyway that was none of my concern. My concern was taking the time to dig for information. And to make friends. The sort of friends with a need for information and the cash to pay for it. I got out my notebook and started jotting down some ideas, thoughts on what I already knew and what I needed to figure out.

[Endeavourl]

I'll vote for Timberwolf

((Sorry, running a bit late, I'll add RP later))

[EmeraldRose]

*ring*

The lady in green picks up the phone. Yes? He did? Excellent. Have my man come around and make certain he visits the office. I feel it may be necessary for him to start right away.

She hangs up, then goes to her bar. As she pours a glass of wine, she contemplates the "race" for mayor. So many choices, so little reason. She wonders who is the backing for Timberwolf. For someone with no campaign, he seems to be doing well. She wonders which faction is doing the backing...

[androgial]

so much confusion. who was a templar, who was a shadow agent, who was the DA, and who had the falcon? I sat in the foyer of my office waiting for them to come but it seemed like noone but me wanted thier vote to count. I had heard through a freind on the election commitee that they werent going to count any vote from people who werent registered. they were going to charge 25 dollars to register people. I had decided to only charge my cost of filing the right forms, a mere 5 dollars. No one seemed to care about that however. maybe it was all the fault of that sword wielding socialite want to be Ken Orias(Korias).

[Traveling_Angel]

If that's the auto list, then experienced players can go down the tube in a hurry.

Edit: Nevermind.

[Andre Fairchilde]

EXTRA!!! EXTRA!!! EXTRA!!!

NEW MAYOR ELECTED!
HELGRAF MAKES ACCEPTANCE SPEECH!

TIMBERWOLF ARRESTED!

“I’m telling you – I’m not a shooter! I don’t do anything like this! I’m not the one you want!”

“Doesn’t matter. You all killed RadikalSkippy, and you all killed Alarra. Of course Alarra was a Templar, but we have jails – let us make the choice and use a little something called the justice system.

Silence.

“Name your price. There’s not a thing in this town that can’t be bought or taken – and we’re the ones to do it.”

“Do you have the Falcon?”

“You know I can’t tell you that!”

“Ok, then I want RadikalSkippy and Alarra back.”

“I can’t do that either!”

“Fine. You’re under arrest for conspiracy to murder RadikalSkippy, and also for 2d Degree Manslaughter for the deaths of Llama and Eldritch Knight. You can talk to the judge.”

Timberwolf was lynched. Timberwolf was The Brain.

[Traveling_Angel]

Well, this proves further that I'm the Pasty. I scried FC and got a result of The Brain. So seer, have a field day. And raiser, I'm sorry, I should stop randomly pointing at you.

[Andre Fairchilde]

Oh yeah -

DAY 3 ENDS - NIGHT 3 WILL END MONDAY, OCTOBER 22 AT 6:00pm (CST).

(Unless, of course, I get the other three inputs I need to start the day phase early...)

[Shadow]

EK points at ShadowStill not sure about you.
(Oh and I'll be pointing at Shadow tonight.)You either.
What about this S. Hadow fellow? He seems suspicious. I state, trying to get off of the Orias case.Or you.
Shadows surround, we are taken.Uh huh....
Shadow was to blame.Whatever dude.
So I point at Shadow. Sorry old mate, but you look totally suspicious to me right now. How about now?
Points at Shadow
No time for RP, but Shadow, well, is Shadow, in Mafia and is therefore doubly untrustworthy.OK Mr. Brain.... Whatever....
... even with that Shadow starting all the trouble.Here we go....
I will point at Shadow.))This again?
Completely OOC:You guys are hilarious.
See Timberwolf, you're doing it to..
"I know that he's not playing up to his potential like normal. And I know that this is a below average defense considering it's him. But I'm still going to point at him...."

That's fine. With massive family issues it might be a blessing in disquise to have a tiny bit more free time. Just peruse te thread after my death to see who wanted me gone the most. That'll give you a place to start looking after you all find out for certain that I'm a citizen. :smallwink:And if it hasn't been explained to your satisfaction by now, it never will....

[Supagoof]

Here we go....This again?

All this means is that I distrust you less this game....:smallamused:

[Helgraf]

I grinned from where I sat in an empty booth across from Lucky at the bar as the results came in. He'd come through for me as I'd known he would. Too many people owed Lucky too many favours to comfortably say no.

The wheels were turning once more. Oh yes. And soon, come morning, the piper would start playing a tune for all the rats in the city.

I got up and walked through the nearest wall, then took a moment to extract my lower torso from the street in which it was thereby embedded, what with Lucky's being built just below street level and all, and headed down to the pitiful excuse for a city park. I was humming a self-satisfied little tune when I saw I wasn't the only ghost around.

The tune fell flat when I saw who it was, lingering by that fountain.

Damn. Double damn. Both of them dead now. One sold to the agents, the other to the templars. And for what? That miserable bit of fecal matter called the Maltese Falcon.

Well, I was mayor now, and damned if I couldn't do something big, impressive and ultimately meaningless about it! Big meaningless gestures were what politics was all about, after all - well, that and graft.

But for now, I moved toward the fountain.

[Timberwolf]

((Well monkeys, I get back into town to find I've been lynched. Ah well, never mind.

Oh, and Shadow, please don't get all moral highground on me for trying to play the game.))

[Shadow]

((Please don't interpret my trying to play the game with moral highground. I have very little of that as it is apparently. No personal offense intended or taken. Hope the same goes for you.))

[Supagoof]

((Please don't interpret my trying to play the game with moral highground. I have very little of that as it is apparently. No personal offense intended or taken. Hope the same goes for you.))

((That why I loves playing with you Shadow. It is, when all is said and done, just a game. :smallsmile:

But I'm still gunning for you! :smallwink: ))

[Shadow]

((That why I loves playing with you Shadow. It is, when all is said and done, just a game. :smallsmile:

But I'm still gunning for you! :smallwink: ))
((Same here.
And I expect demand nothing less, of course. :smallwink: ))

[EmeraldRose]

((Andre has called to say he is stuck in traffic, indefinitely, and the update will be a little late.))

[Andre Fairchilde]

[COLOR="Blue"]Ms. E. Rose fingers the invitation again. It is made of the finest fibered card stock, embossed with gold leaf. She has been invited to a wine tasting at the Jambon Le Grand, a selection of Bordeaux were to be available. Taking her cadre of bodyguards with her she arrived in all her finery. Unexpectedly, she was not the first to the tasting as Raldor happened to show first.

In disgust, she left the tasting – if she would not be the first, then she would be the last ad make a fine entrance!

Smiling at the selection of fine French wines, Raldor began to sample them one small glass at a time.

Soon he became dizzy…. “Oh, I’m not feeling good. I should have had dinner first.”

Sitting down at one of the tables, he became more and more dizzy – falling over onto the floor.


Raldor was poisoned (killed) by the Templars. He was member of the Upright Citizens Brigade (Citizen, good).


Emerald Rose directed her chauffeur to drive her back to her office. She went in, up the elevator, and directed her bodyguard to wait outside the main lobby. Taking a large key from her hand purse, she opened her private office.

Upon opening the door – she was shocked to see she’d surprised a burglar! Someone was searching her office! She screamed but the intruder pulled out a snub nose .38 and shot at Emerald Rose to keep her head down while he ducked out of the window!

As her bodyguard ran in and returned fire, the intruder made his escape, leaping from the second story and landing with a CRUNCH – breaking his ankle. The bodyguard continued to fire his big automatic .45 pistol out the window, perhaps hitting the intruder one more time as he limped away – but he did escape.

The bodyguard turned to check on his boss, but saw her sitting on the floor, slumped against the door frame. She had been hit twice in the chest.


Emerald Rose was killed by the Shadow Agents. She was member of the Upright Citizens Brigade (Citizen, good).


[SIZE="4"][FONT="Book Antiqua"]
Day 4 Begins Now
Day 4 Ends on Wednesday, October 24th @ 7pm Central (US)

[Traveling_Angel]

Well, Should we sing Another one Bites the Dust?

Also, shadow, I just pointed at you because I was trying to get EK out of the "he's a drug dealler!" mode.

[Freshmeat]

Samuel looked at him from across the table, but he might as well have been peering at Jacob from the Devil's own palace in the deep blue sea.

After a moment Samuel rubbed his rheumy eyes. "You ever wonder about morals?" he said. Jacob shook his head. "I do...all the damn time. I wonder what it means to be good -- if there's some tally that says 'you only hurt ten people, so come on up, but eleven and you're going straight to hell.' Then I think maybe it's a little voice that tells you, way back in your head. And then I wonder what happens when that voice goes away..."

Jacob reached under the table and put the little .22 pistol against one of Samuel's kneecaps.

"I don't think you're going to like my answer to that. Where is he?"


***

Journal Entry: Wednesday

Two more dead. A Mr. Ralashor Dorian and a Mrs. E. Rose. Neither of which had been consorting with the Templars or Shadow Agents, and had in fact been members of the city brigade.
Yet they had watched and waited, and when the time had come to choose whose side they were on, their choice was one of avoidance.
What for? Allegiance is strength. Allegiance is distinction. Those unwilling to stand up and shout who they are and what they are fighting for only end up mistrusted by everyone else. Even wildcards need a slight touch of order to them to appear useful to their enemies.

This gang war will soon come to an end. Both sides are building up, trying to find those pulling the strings, and when they do, all hell will break loose. This entire situation isn't going to blow over. It's going to blow up.
Those trying to survive are already heading for cover. Those ready to kill are looking for those of similar mindset. And the jury is still out on those that are caught in between.


Yesterday I plucked a corrupt Shadow Agent from her political seat of power – today it's time to go after the other one: Zar Peter.
Like Timberwolf, he hadn’t been campaigning, yet he too had amassed enough wealth and support to have a decent shot at running for mayor - but the question was still the same: who had been backing him? In all likelihood, it was the type of answer the cops wouldn't like to hear.
Zar Peter... To be honest I thought him to be an innocent bystander in all of this mess, but recent affairs suggest he has been compromised, possibly by the Templars.

After yesterday's debacle, it would be prudent to maintain some sort of fragile balance, like a stand-off where both sides are bound to walk away harmed, if not crippled. Perhaps by going to Lucky's again I could give the Shadow Agents a chance to even the score on a political level. And then only the just and fair Helgraf would remain.

Removing this... taint from this city, I'd make a deal with the devil if that's what it would take. So the choice is obvious: instigate again and again, never stopping for a moment to think of the consequences. No mercy. No remorse. No time to get to know their motivations or hear the choices they've made that have led up to this. There is only justice.
It's time to clear the field – wipe away all that political nonsense and be done with it. Only the worthy are rewarded, and I'm not complaining about our current mayor.
Shadow Agents and Templars playing law and order, acting like they wish to maintain the peace, armed with prejudice in one hand and obnoxious favoritism in the other... This entire election had been a farce, and now is the time to correct that mistake.

Now is the time to bring down Zar Peter.

- Freddy Meadows

[Jontom Xire]

((Ummm, did the Shadow Agents get two kills last night?))

[Andre Fairchilde]

(Sorry, no - Raldor was killed by the Templars, ER was killed by the Shadow Agents. Sorry for the mistake in the post, it has been fixed.

Also - please remember that although there are groups in this WW game - the real winner is the only holder of the Falcon. The only way to get the Falcon? The first pointer, or a random member of the group that kills the falcon holder. The falcon may not be passed off, the only way to get the falcon is to kill the person holding it.)

Also - Following players did not vote Day 3 - if they do not vote Day 4 they will be autolynched:

evnafets
HyramGraff

[Crystall_Myr]

"Freshmeat" told a good tale. It was convincing, perhaps, but wasn't everyone in this town? I was reluctant to point a finger, but who can blame me? No one in this should truly want death. Money, sure, but not a full cemetery.

A convincing argument, though. Maybe we can focus our killing on those who are trying to kill us. Maybe we're screwed, either way, I pointed at Zar Peter in hope of giving the ghosts here some extra breathing room.

[Cult_of_the_Raven]

A long day at the shop yesterday had left me with no time of my own. With all the recent deaths, the shop had once again been full with random folk, eager for news and gossip, and willing to pay for a cup or a book to get it. I didn't mind the extra 'work'. It gave me an extra few dollars to spend on some of the things I enjoy. But it did leave me without any leeway to run out and consult with friends.
Anyway, the shop was a little slower today, which gave me the moment I needed to hop out of the shop for a second and follow the lead I'd heard on a guy named Zar Peter. I got back with nothing new, but I knew I'd hear something in the shop today.

[Traveling_Angel]

I listened to the rumor mill, hearing Zar Peter was accused (with a good deal of suspicion) by Freshmeat. He was as close as I could tell, but I had a sinking feeling about the Templar.

Points at Zar Peter

((OOC: If Freshmeat is a Templar, then we could be in an odd postion. No real accusation though. ))

[Trix]

Sorry, but will add rp later. Vote for Zar Peter

[Jontom Xire]

((I missed Freshmeat's post the first time around. Beautiful.))

There was something about the Dames in this town. Bad news all of them, walking around the city like plague rats bringing death and corruption. Well two were dead, and both had been bad to the bone. Templars and Shadow Agents fighting across the city with the rest of us caught in the middle like socks in a washing machine. And I still didn't have any leads although that Freshmeat fella sure seemed to. First off he brings down Timberwolf and now he reckons that Zar Peter is dirty. I didn't know one thing from another, but maybe he had an inside feed, or maybe he was just lucky. In any case it was worth a go following his hunch again.

[whitehelm]

I don't know about Zar Peter being mafia, he pointed fairly quickly at Timberwolf (The Brain) and pointed at Alarra (Templar) before she died.

Since I think he's a citizen, I naturally go with a bandwagon joiner, Traveling_Angel.

[Zar Peter]

Mr. Meadows makes really long and convincing speeches, sadly he's completly wrong.

I'll follow Whitehelm and point at Travelling Angel.

[Fleeing Coward]

Points at Travelling Angel, rp to come later.

[Emperor Demonking]

"Trix going on a bandwagon suspicious. You might be hiding something." Says the emperor. "An why wouldn't you try to get the maltese. Unless you already had it."

[Korias]

Ken Orias. Age, 35. Occupation: Lawyer.

Damn Lawyers. Evil to the core.

It wasnt long before He was already out the door into the raining city that we all lived in. This city of hatred, malice, contempt, and anger. Man... I Love this City!

-------------------------------------


Ken Orias had just finished his earl grey tea when his wife brought the newspaper to him. Arent you glad that you didnt go to that wine tasting? Apparently, one of his old friends, Raldor, was dead. Feh... It is a loss, but the city moves on. Such a sad ending... Realizing the time, Korias suddenly rushes out of the door to get to work. He Bumps into TA on the way there.

[Andre Fairchilde]

11 Hours left to vote for Day 4:

Also - Following players did not vote Day 3 - if they do not vote Day 4 they will be autolynched:

evnafets


Current Votes Day 4 - Post #211
If there is a tie, the player who received the first point get’s the noose.


{table="head"]|Zar Peter|Traveling Angel|Trix|Supagoof
1|Freshmeat |Whitehelm |Emperor Demonking|Hyramgraff
2|Crystall Myr|Zar Peter|
3|Cult of the Raven|Fleeing Coward|
4|Traveling Angel|Korias|
5|Trix|Androgial
6|Jontom Xire
7|Supagoof
[/table]

[Supagoof]

As the large man returns back to the law firm the next day, he see's a sign marked "Closed". The area is crawling with people and a commotion. unsure about what's going on, he recalls a person talking yesterday. What was his name, Frank..no..Francis..no, um...Freddy - That'ts it.

That guys know sumting. Graklok don't know what, but Graklok gonna trust him and help him.

So the large man heads out to find him. On his way he bumps into Zar Peter, nearly knocking him over.

@V corrected. :smalltongue:

[Freshmeat]

(Regarding Zar Peter: I'm not *sure* that he's a Templar/Shadow Agent, but the election angle seemed good enough to follow up on. It'd be pretty hypocritical of me to start a bandwagon against Timberwolf for that, but not against ZP. All the rest is purely RP.

As for Traveling Angel: He already claimed to be the patsy. If that was a lie, and there's another, real patsy around, I think that person would be quick to denounce Traveling Angel. It seems likely that, by now - what with about 1/3d of the playerbase dead already - he'd know he's the patsy and not the private eye.

Speaking of which... Don't confuse Freddy with Samuel or Jacob. The italicized parts are actually chapters of a book Freddy is reading. As you might notice from the slightly differing style, I didn't write those myself: they're part of a certain computer game. Still, the content felt surprisingly appropriate to me, so I decided to use it to spice up some of my posts. I'll give the link to all of them when all of this is over (if anyone's interested).
I'd do it now, but that might spoil some of the more interesting mini-chapters to come.)

[androgial]

It was raining. Even the sky seemed to be weeping in the forlorn cemetary near the mausoleum. As we burried Rose Fairchilde there werent many in attendance. The sky was weeping. The templars and Shadow agents were running rampant. The sky was weeping, the sky was crying out for blood. How would Agent Fairchilde handle the death of his wife. I didnt know the answer to that and I didnt care. Talk back in the blood thirsty city of lynching Zar Peter or Traveling Angel. If I had to place a bet I'd bet on Traveling Angel being more of a templar or shadow agnet than Zar peter, but then again I'm a defense attourney and dont need to place bets. Maybe I should just pack up and head to the Hamptons for a weeks vacation and see what happens.

[HyramGraff]

Somthing seems suspicious surrounding Supagoof.

[CurlyKitGirl]

The dead man had one. A dead city with an undead mayor - poetic. The city rots and the Mayor slowly rots too.
It occurred to me that it was a good thing; "What can you do to a dead man?" With a wry smile I began to shuffle through the mountains of refuse outside a restaurant in an anonymous street.
Finding my supper I slipped it in my coat and began to head to Luchy's. On my way I saw politics screaming for death. It was inevitable really, a new mayor and to make himself secure he kills off his rivals. Timberwolf was dead, Zar Peter looked as if he was next. And a strange man, Graklok? He had some enemies too; don't see why. Big and dumb, purely muscle, but not exactly a major threat.
Perhaps this Ken Orias lawyer is beg=hind it. Lawyers'll do anything for some cash in hand.

[Endeavourl]

I walked past that spot at the station where I first saw Zar Peter and the Agent, the events of the past few hours replaying in my mind. Old Gimbert had suspended contacts with me, telling me that events with the Falcon had gotten out of hand, and that he didn't want to get me involved. Something about a favor he had to keep with my Dad. Megan will never forgive me, I can't get you involved like your father was. Sorry Endeavourl, but I promised.

[evnafets]

evnafets points at Travelling Angel

[Freshmeat]

(Last call for those unrecruitables: Contact me before the end of the following night phase. I'll be protected for one additional night.
If you haven't messaged me come day 5, don't be surprised to become the victom of a random bandwagon.)

[Shadow]

Sorry. I'm not in the mood for any more RP today.
points at Goof because I can.

[Andre Fairchilde]

The election had been tumultuous for Mr. Zar Peter. The grocery store clerk was unexpectedly nominated for Mayor, the citizens loved him, then the powers that be moved on to elect Mayor Helgraf.

Zar Peter swept out his grocery store, closing it for the night.

Agent Andre Fairchilde approached the store. He had a tip that Zar Peter had embezzled his campaign donations, and corruption was an area Agent Fairchilde was obligated to investigate.

Approaching Zar Peter, Agent Fairchilde said “Mr. Zar Peter? I’m sorry, but I’ll have to ask you to go downtown with me to answer a few questions….”


Zar Peter was arrested for questioning about campaign corruption.
(Zar Peter was lynched)
Zar Peter was a Citizen, Good.



Night 4 Begins Now.
Night 4 Ends on Thursday, October 25th @ 7pm Central (US)

[Traveling_Angel]

Ouch.

To those who pointed at me today: feel free to lynch me tomorrow, as that really proves I'm the Pasty, but I like this game to much to die quite yet.

[Zar Peter]

What? Arrested? Because I couldn't explain the origin of every penny on my campaign accounts? That's a police state! I want to phone with my lawyer! And I want a single cell! These people here are sick! Aaaaaaarrrrrrrrghhhh.

[Andre Fairchilde]

The Templar Marshal paced in front of the believers.

“Our focus is the Falcon. The falcon, the falcon, the falcon. Any time we deviate from that focus, we step further away from our goal.”

The Marshal continued “We have been looking for centuries, and it is within our grasp! If we must search every house in this city, send every one to the morgue – we must have that statue!” Pausing for a breath, the Marshal continued in a whisper “The fortune of our order relies on it.”

“Tonight our sources have shown us that Silas Hadow is hiding the Falcon. Tonight we send that heretic to the morgue, and return the Falcon to our order!”

Upon arrival, the Knights Templar were disappointed that they were not able to eliminate the heretic themselves, as the target was already dead.

The Templars decided to eliminate the heretic Mr. Silas Hadow (Shadow) but the infamous Shadow had arrived on the scene first removed Silas Hadow from the equation in the hunt for the Maltese Falcon.

Silas Hadow (Shadow) was killed by the Shadow. If the Shadow hadn’t done it, the Knights Templar also had decided to move against Silas Hadow.

Shadow (the player) was a Citizen - Good.

On the other side of the city a black sedan pulls up to Lucky’s. Two gangsters get out of the car – one old, and one young. Both are carrying violin cases, but do not look like musicians. They walk one block, turn left, and see half a dozen squad cars, police lights, and the D.A. walking Graklok (SupaGoof )into the back of another dark sedan.

“Ah no! Graklok is in protective custody! We gotta go and tell the boss… they’re not going to be happy…”


Graklok (SupaGoof) was protected by the D.A. tonight. The Shadow Agents tried to make a hit, but were foiled by the D.A.


Night 4 Ends – Day 5 Starts Now.
Day 5 ends Saturday 7:00 PM CST, October 27, 2007

[Trix]

Jessica stumled home after another long day at work. The Morgue had only one new entry today, Silas Hadow.

Cops thought "The Shadow" killed him. Jessie wasnt so sure. The Shadow seemed to stand up for everything that was Just in this world. Why would he kill an innocent? Or maybe Silas Hadow wasnt innocent? Maybe he had the Falcon?

Sometimes Jessie hated her job. The Cops would come in, ask a bunch of questions, tell her a little bit of info, and then leaving her wondering what happened and wanting to know answers herself. She wasnt a detective, or a PI or even interested in puzzles.

I dont know much, But I know I dont like people that keep calling themselves something. Too opbvious and stupid. Wanting the civilians to avoid asking questions. NOBODY gives information freely. Unless its wrong information.

For that, I think Traveling_Angel is hiding something.

[Emperor Demonking]

"Hyram has been acting suspicious if you ask me" Said the emperor.

[Jontom Xire]

((I'm pointing at Travelling Angel because he doesn't look like a pasty to me. A patsy maybe, but not a pasty. I doubt he's even Cornish!))

[Supagoof]

He took me into his office. The small room with blinds on the windows in the center of the station. What did he need the blinds for - it's not as if the sun could shine this deep into the building. Not that the sun ever shined in this town. As he closed the blinds, the reason for needing them became all too clear as he cracked his knuckles.

I've seen you snoping around the crime scenes....

Graklok not snoping, Graklok id helping! I pleaded. I didn't want to be locked up. I was just getting started in this city.

Yeah right. how come everywhere you go, the person you meet ends up dead?

Dunno. Graklok spose they made wrong guy angry?

*Thwack!*

I don't have time for your smart alec remarks. Citizens are dying out there, some crazed fool is running around with a long lost work of art, and I got a job to do.

Graklok have job too, well Graklok had job. I replied, rubbing the red mark freshly implanted across my face.

What do you mean?

Lawyer come to Graklok and ask him check few tings. Seem to tink Graklok could find tings out. I wasn't certain what the lawyer had wanted, just a few things. By the time I got there, the murder had already happened.

So, your a detective now are ya? Want to get it all worked out huh?

Graklok no 'tective. Graklok didin' make it into 'cadamy. My memory flashes back a few years. Those standardized tests would be the death of me one of these days. Couldn't ever seem to think straight around them.

So your just looking around on your own? You're asking for trouble.

'Haps you 'elp. Graklok look for you, den Graklok get paid by you, new job for Graklok. I was eager to show my willingness to help. If the DA and I could work out an agreement, perhaps we could stop a bunch of these deaths.

That might work. You're not smart enough to plan these things on your own. What leads do you got?

Well, Graklok walking away from lawyer pwace, and strange guy 'proach Graklok. He say Graklok act funny.I spilled the beans on everything I knew. We didn't speak the same language, the DA or I, but I think he understood what I was trying to tell him.

Did you get a name?

Some Giraffe guy. "Hi I'm Giraffe", Graklok tinks. What was that guys name again? I thought to myself.

You mean HyramGraff?

Yeah, dat's the guy. Him 'proach Graklok. He understood me just fine. Good, most people give me a blank stare when I talk to them.

Why do you speak like that? In the third person?

Graklok don't know no third person. Where third person? I ask, looking around the room. Did the DA bring someone else in when he hit me? Sometimes I just get so confused, like when I don't take my medicene. Crap, did I take my medicene today?

The conversation continues on from there in privacy.

((Apologies to the DA if I make you seem mean. Thanks for the protection!))

[whitehelm]

I join the bandwagon and point at Hyramgraff

[Freshmeat]

Journal Entry: Thursday

So, the grocery clerk Zar Peter turned out to be innocent after all. No matter. If he is indeed blameless of the charges laid against him, he'll be out of jail in no time. Not soon enough to have a chance at obtaining the Falcon again, but at least he'll keep his life. In a way, I've saved him from what was probably a certain death.

I arrived late at Lucky's today, which is quickly becoming the place where all lynch mobs seem to originate from. Fingers were pointed at Traveling Angel and Hyramgraff, of which the latter seemed the most suspicious to me. During the eventful past couple of days, he'd been keeping a suspiciously low profile.

Then again, the same can be said about a few others as well, but their time will come soon enough...

- Freddy Meadows

[Raiser Blade]

Oi Crap! I completely forgot about this game o_o. Uhh i'll point at freshmeat just cuz he's right above me.

[North]

The light creeps its way over the street towards the guitar player.

Feels like a month
it hasnt been a week.
I ask for a helping hand
mine as well not speak.
Shadow is gunned down,
not just once, but twice
When you play the game
you pay for past vice.

And the day begins...

Goof was in trouble,
The agents on his trail.
Does he know somethin'
I wonder of his tale.
Everything is changin'
Nothings the same.
Has he done anythin'
Is Hyramgraff to blame?


And the day begins...

Maybe your next,
theres now way to know.
You cant run or hide,
Theres no where to go.
The city is in warfare.
The situations dire.
I pray for a miracle.
Ill burn in the fire.

[Andre Fairchilde]

(Wow! :smallbiggrin: )

[Andre Fairchilde]

(Six or so hours for voting.
Only 8 / 18 have voted so far...)

[CurlyKitGirl]

((I'm pointing at Travelling Angel because he doesn't look like a pasty to me. A patsy maybe, but not a pasty. I doubt he's even Cornish!))

((You know JX, I think you're roight. He ain't Cornish, but Oi am. An' it's a shame he ain't a pasty 'cos they roight gorgeous.))

I was right. That nearly Mayor clerk was dead, so were more people. I knew those electioneering factions would try to kill off everyone. Who was it next? HyramGraff? Or was it to be another nameless denizen of the murky city? My bets are on the first. Who'd actually go out of theitr way to kill a non enitity? Only a fool, but this Fanboy fellow was dead. Only those political folks were going to die from now on.
All I knew was that it was getting harder to get some pickings with all these people dying. Noone ever goes out at night any more. I've lost half my work. Bloody idiot; bringing the statue here.

[Endeavourl]

Lucky's was busy with it's usual crowd, though I made sure to avoid Gimbert's table in the back. I called the serving girl over from Hyramgraff's table and asked for another pint of ale. Mum needed to stop her nights out for money, and there might just be a way that I could bring in enough to accomplish that...

((RP Edited in))

[Korias]

This place is crazy.

Thats about it. Something is wrong with this picture. The city, the people, hell, we have an undead mayor. What the hell is going on?

Right now, Orias disappeared. The hunt begins as of now. My first lead? HyramGyraff. Something tells me he could lead me to where Orias went, and therefore, keep my job. 5 Grand a Month, in this city, after taxes and bribes, is nothing to scoff at. Pays the rent and keeps the food coming. But where could he have gone...?

[Andre Fairchilde]

The investigation into Zar Peter was a dead end. Zar Peter’s campaign contributions were mostly anonymous, and he was clearly in the dark as to who put him up for the mayoral election, and who ran away with all the campaign contributions. The things that the grocer Zar Peter did get from the election was a soiled reputation, and publicly revealed a simple good Citizen, with no Maltese Falcon. Unfortunately, this also removed him from the game as he returned to anonymity.

The interrogation did lead to many other suspects though, and into an unexpected direction. Agent Fairchilde’s next lead was to investigate a private eye with a reputation for political work. Someone had fingered him as to being a bit more than the typical gumshoe. The first person to lay the finger was Emperor Demonking claiming that the private eye had acted suspiciously during the election. The Emperor laid out his case while sipping illegal bourbon from a flask, and spouting opinions like they were going out of style.

Another piece of evidence came while Graklok was in interrogation. These two drops led to a torrent of accusations against the private eye – perhaps they knew he may have the Falcon?

Agent Fairchilde did not care at all about the Falcon – sure it belonged in a museum, but this town was averaging about 3 dead a day! All over some object that may not have ever existed. No, what he cared about was ending the fix in this city, and giving some safety back to the citizenry. He decided to bring in the private eye Hyramgraff and see where the questioning took him…

“Good afternoon Mr. Hyramgraff. My name is Agent Fairchilde with the F.B.I. Could I see your license to perform Private Investigations? Thanks. Oh… this expired two years ago… do you mind coming with me to answer a few questions? Thanks, my car is this way. Oh, I have to pat you down before you can get in my car… thanks. Wait, do you have a license for this pistol? Oh, a flashlight? And… housebreaking keys? Hmmm. Is this a sawed off shotgun? How many… and a knife? Wow… and what is this…”



Hyramgraf was lynched. He was a Citizen, Good.



NIGHT 5 BEGINS NOW.
NIGHT 5 ENDS SUNDAY, OCTOBER 28 AT 7:00 CST.

[Andre Fairchilde]

(10 hours left... not many inputs...)

[Andre Fairchilde]

EXTRA!!! EXTRA!!! EXTRA!!! EXTRA!!!

TREMENDOUS HAPPENINGS IN UNDERWORLD
RIGHT HERE IN THE CITY!!!!!! (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aKrQVeA1_MM)



This evening started off with a failed assassination attempt! Police believe that the Fanboy, dedicated supporter of the outlaw mastermind the Shadow tried to shoot a member of the citizenry. The results were mixed as the victim is unidentified as the Fanboy missed the shot…..


The Fanboy tried to assassinate someone (unknown), but failed.


This was not how he wanted it to end. But he had made waves…. He knew they were serious – but not like this! He rocked as the boat rocked, tied to an office chair. His feet were in a large bucket.

Two mobsters were on the boat with him. The younger mobster was mixing something in a large tub, the older one was steering the boat.

“I won’t talk.”

“Ok.”

“I’m serious, I won’t tell you anything.”

“That’s too bad, we wanted to know so much from you.”

“Hey, you have me tied up here – can you try not being sarcastic? Are you going to kill me?”

“Kind of.”

The younger mobster began to pour a thick lumpy liquid into the bucket.

“Is that…is that oatmeal? Why are you dumping 20 gallons of oatmeal on my feet?”

“Nope, it’s instant setting cement I got off a work site. It'll set even faster if you add water to it.”

“You’re pouring cement into this bucket? How am I going to get out?”

“I don’t know. Ask the fishes.”

Horrified, the man felt sick – “Wha… wha… what!? What do you mean!?”

The younger mobster walked over to the side of the boat and opened a latch.

“I mean – ask the fish – because tonight you sleep with the fish! And these are the last waves you’re going to make. Better make them big.”

The younger mobster proceeded to push the victim into the water.

A large splash, a lot of waves… and he was gone.


Freshmeat, a Citizen, Good was killed by the Shadow Agents.


On shore, a mobster waits in a sedan. A couple of his guys are out on the water taking care of a problem and when they get back he’s going to take them to Lucky’s for a few glasses of whiskey.

He’s leaning back in the seat listening to the radio, when he snaps his eyes open.

He thought he heard something.
"This is no time to relax." Slowly, he draws his pistol and slides over to the passenger seat. "If they’re coming to get me, I need to move away from where they think I am."

He looks around through the windows - front, sides, back – the docks are filled with fog, and the noises of the wharf. Ships bellowing, dockmen working, yelling – the place was very active. The mobster was a little spooked – but something was nagging him… so he slowly opened the passenger door, and exited the car into a crouch.

"There, now I have the car on one side of me." Keeping in a crouch, he moved towards some boxes. “Maybe if I get a little height, I can keep the advantage. But I got to stay out of the light…”

As started over to another area, closer to the water - “If I get over to the boat when they get back, then there will be three of us.”

He made his way to the edge of the dock, he turned with the water at his back.

Unfortunately, they came from the water – a hand pulled him from the dock into the water. Another pair of hands – wielding a sword, leapt after him point first with his holy Templar blade…


Crystal Myr, a Shadow Agent was killed by the Templars.

Quite a ways away, two figures discuss business in the fog of night. One bows, and walks off into the dark fog, the other pauses under the street light and heads back up the hills towards his mansion and office. He has been busy as of late – so much to do in this city.

First, the appearances of his cover – his life as a lawyer. He had been bred for this role. They had provided for his entire life, from his earliest education, to the mansion, to the office, to the friends, to his network, to his law degree, to his current mission. He only had to find them the Falcon. This was his only mission. They provide – and he shall provide.

To do so required so many compromises though! It was as if every lesson of ethics he’d ever learned must be compromised to attain his goals. It was while he was entertaining these thoughts - brooding – that he was interrupted by fate itself.

“I know who you are. I know what you have done.”

Shaken, startled, he turned around to see a vague figure in the fog.

“What? Who are you?”

A laugh…. a gunshot…


Obituary
Ken Orias (Korias), aged 35, practicing lawyer was shot by an unnamed assailant last night.
(Korias, the Templar Marshal was killed by the Shadow.)


DAY 6 BEGINS NOW.
DAY 6 Ends at 7:00 PM Central Standard Time (USA) October 30th.
Let the voting begin.

[Andre Fairchilde]

(Oh by the way...

These players need to vote today or will be autolynched:

Androgial
Fleeing Coward
Traveling Angel

Happy voting! :smallwink: )

[North]

A lone guitarist breaks the silence.

Our Hero shot the Marshall,
A blow is struck for right.
Korias was the leader,
a lawyer of the night.
The Templar drown a agent,
Crystals bodys it goes cold
The Shadows are falling.
The Templar grow more bold.

And the day begins...

A prayer for Freshmeat,
a good man put to rest.
He spoke out for the people
The Shadows killed their pest.
I dont know whos guilty.
Ill be pointing blind.
Evnafets has been quiet
Evil I hope to find.

And the day begins...

Half the cities gone,
Only a few remain.
How many good are left?
We suffer from the pain.
To all, our days number'd
Even if your right or wrong.
Bodies falling everywhere,
Don't matter where you belong.

[evnafets]

Damn.

I'd forgotten how bright the sun could get. I'd almost forgotten what it even looked like.
Blinking into the fierce glare I looked out at the bustling street, glad to be away from those gray concrete walls and steel bars.
After a month in the big house, they'd let me out with an apology. Seems someone had made a mistake. They were all terribly sorry. These things happen. The sent me on my way with a handshake and a pat on the back.

Back out there to the city where the concrete walls would be replaced with faded yellow stucco. With no steel bars around. Right then I wanted another type of bar - the one where I could get a drink.
Even in the prison cells rumors had been everywhere. Scuttlebutt was that the Falcon had resurfaced. I was a late starter, but I could play catchup with the best. And Lucky's was the best place to do that.

The one name that had come the clearest in the first few days of the incident was that of fleeing coward. Apparently he just wanted out of the game. I didn't believe that. Nobody would want out of this game. It was a place to start anyway.

[Cult_of_the_Raven]

The shop kept getting busier, and I kept running out of time to search for that falcon. The doorstep on my shop had been thrown up on last night by some drunk beggar, and I was the only one to clean it up. I felt cold, miserable, and frustrated, thinking of the low chances I had of seeing the falcon after so many had dies for it already. That, of course, was when my father, the misbegotten son of a slimy green toad, decided to pay me a visit.
I stood up, just finishing up scrubbing the half frozen slime off my step.
what do you want, father of mine?
He stood uneasily for a second, then gathered his few wits and stood up straight. Raven, you have to leave.
Why is that, father? So you can steal what little I have left and take my last chance at the fortune you've dreamed of?
No, Raven, I..
I turned around and slammed the door in his face.
I don't want to hear it. You are dead to us.
Unwisely, he followed me into the shop, trying to get me to listen to his fake story.
Look, Raven, it's too dangerous here. You could get killed. You could..
His patronizing tone just grated my nerves to the point of breaking. I couldn't help myself. I threw a hot coffee pot right at his face. Unfortunately, it hit a wall, and the glass and hot coffee fell right on the book order I was holding for some guy called whitehelm.
Get out of here, dad. I told you five years ago what I'd do if you harassed me again. Don't make me keep my word.

((argh. real life issues suck. :smalltongue:))

[Shadow]

The Templars decided to eliminate the heretic Mr. Silas Hadow (Shadow) but the infamous Shadow had arrived on the scene first removed Silas Hadow from the equation in the hunt for the Maltese Falcon.

Silas Hadow (Shadow) was killed by the Shadow. If the Shadow hadn’t done it, the Knights Templar also had decided to move against Silas Hadow.((Well that sucks. Welcome back Shadow.... :smallwink::smallbiggrin: ))

[Jontom Xire]

It had been a good night. Sure that Freshmeat guy had gotten himself killed with all his big ideas. But The Shadow had struck true and while the Templar Marshall was going down the other Templars were busy killing a Shadow Agent. In one night the whole town had become a lot cleaner. The only question was, who had the Falcon?

There was one guy who was keeping very very quiet. Too quiet, like the lull before the storm. I needed to dig a little deeper, find out what I could about this Androgial guy. I decided that Lucky's would be a good place to start. Where else? Besides, I needed a whisky.

((OOC: Androgial has been very very very quiet. I think he's slipping under everyone's radar. Much as I'd love to see FC taken out of the game after all his protests that he just wants to get killed, I think Androgial is a better bet. ))

[Supagoof]

The large man known as Graklok is seen running up the steps into the police station.

Mistah DA Guy, Mistah DA Guy. Graklok did good! Graklok did berry good.

Slow down Graklok, what do you mean?

Graklok found bad guy!

What do you mean you found a bad guy?

Take lookee!

Graklok holds out a photo of Freshmeat beeing dragged off by two people. One has his back turned, but the other is a clear photograph of Evnafets!

You heard him boys, let's go! Graklok, you coming, you want to watch this?

You bet DA guy!

The DA gathers up the squad and head out to serach the streets for Evnafets.

[whitehelm]

Lets lynch some mafia. points at evnafets

[Andre Fairchilde]

By the way - here is Helgraf's trophy for Mayor of Mafia V...



http://home.planet.nl/~hdgoede/tdg/StickArt/OtherPeople/MafiaMayor.png


Thanks Lord Herman!!!!!!

:smallbiggrin:

[Emperor Demonking]

"Whitehelm, famous bandwangon jumper, I've had my eye on you for some time. I've been given you the benefit of the doubt but no more." Said the emperor.

[Andre Fairchilde]

LESS THAN 8 HOURS FOR VOTING
2 more players to vote!
Still on the hook for autolynch:
Androgial
Traveling Angel

[Trix]

Think Im going with whitehelm today so.

((Rp to follow))

[Endeavourl]

The morning paper had a headline that I picked up on. Freshmeat reported missing in the night, allegedly killed by the mob. That name sounded familiar...now, where did I he...aha! That was the Watchmen leader, wasn't it. Supposedly an upright organization attempting to get rid of the fanatics and mobsters, but bringing the law down on two goody two shoes citizens the last couple of days. We'd all thought it was just another front for the mob, but then why the killing? A coverup perhaps?

I walked by Whitehelm as I pondered the news. I'll have to talk my plans through with the crew. If only Gimbert would give in and let me in on things again...

[CurlyKitGirl]

That big troll-like guy was blundering about today. Even more so than usual which was a big danger in this shark-infested city. As he shambled past my alley I heard him mumbling, "Evnafets is bad guy. Graklok did good." Of course what this Graklok didn't now was that he should keep his mouth shut util he got to his destination or run the risk of a death.
But what'm I sopposed to do? I can't advise poeple; especially as I'm likely to get pounded into a pulp for daring to say a word to anyone. But I still don't know why I want to help this guy. Perhaps it's because he's so innocent. Normally innocent ones are the first to go, but his size probably acts as a deterrent. Either way, it was best to keep out of veryones way.