I wanna hear Caravan with the drum sola!
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I wanna hear Caravan with the drum sola!
huh, not much talk, hate for this to go to lurkers,
Vote: DoubleA
no basis to it, just want to get us voting.
hmm...the mafia are always keen that someone is lynched... so Vote: CDF
This is true. CDF wants someone to die... and has no valid explanation for his vote. Why pick Double A over someone else?
Vote: CDF
And who in their right mind would want to kill me? Everyone. So that means CDF is either sane, or LYING!
Alright guys, because of lack of discussion, and my lack of doing work, I'm extenxing this another 24 hours.
Which is totally legal!
Come on town, get crackin'!
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.................
:sleeping:
Vote:No Lynch I will not be killing anyone though lynching or otherwise:bow:
Sorry, fatherhood got in the way...thanks Split for extending this.
Here's the problem: if we keep voting "no lynch", the mafioso can just lurk his way to victory. By voting, we at least get people talking.
Vote: Double A
Double A, explain more about yourself and I will retract my vote.
You mean this right?
I meant that, if you want to kill me, you are probably sane or the mafia. If you are sane, wow that's amazing! But that also means you wouldn't be playing mafia on the org. Or even using the internet. (I was half joking by the way).Quote:
Originally Posted by Double A
So to recap, only people who don't play mafia would want to kill me, so CDF is probably lying.
I am not particularly GOOD at mafia. Does that count?
On mafiascum it does. But this isn't mafiascum, so... I'll unvote if you do.
meh, I got what I wanted. Got us talking didn't it? :laugh4::laugh4:
Unvote: Double A, Vote Centurion1
He has been online, I know that much. Just drop by and talk a little man. :yes: need to stay active.
Right then... unvote: CDF, vote Saskai. He's not even playing, but I know for a fact that, if he was, he'd be guilty.
Haha, nice AA. Unvote; Vote: Centurion1
Heck, why not?
Well I know for sure I do not want to get Centruion lynched before he has a chance to talk...
Unvote: Centurion1, Vote: Abstain
Writeup on it's way!
CDF - 2 (atheotes, Chaotix)
Sasaki - 1 (Double A)
Cent1 - 1 (Iskander)
Abstain - CDF
No lynch = W_E:D
The backalleys of chicago, December 21st 1934.
http://icons-pe.wunderground.com/dat...termute/95.jpg
The men stood around in the alleyway, a few accusations were thrown but really they each had little clue who had done the terrible crime, Remy Dupree stood up, and pointed right at a random member of the band.
"I think he should talk more, he hasn't said a word yet!" He argued.
His argument however fell on deaf ears, and soon the men were accusing him for trying to kill innocent members.
"It's obviously you, no one else wants to even think about killing, and here you are throwing around accusations like some bigshot!" a man barked at him, "This ain't small town Louisiana anymore Remy, we don't do :daisy: like that here." he half yelled.
Another man jumped on Remy and placed his vote on him, by the end of the day they all took a silent ballot, and the man with the most votes was unfortunately Remy.
He slowly backed away from the rest of the band, his trumpet clutched tightly in his hand, he swung it back and forth, to deter anyone from moving closer.
"No! It wasn't me!" he pleaded with the band, "I didn't come all the way up here, leaving my home, my family, my way of life just to kill the only chance I've gotten to play music here! Sure... I had some disagreements over arrangements and solos, but nothing worth killing over!" he was still backing down the alleyway, away from the band who continued to follow him.
He started backpedaling faster, closer to the end of the alleyway, soon he would hit the street and he would turn and run for his life, but he needed to keep stalling.
He had an idea, he wouldn't like it, but it was better to live and deal with it than to die.
Remy picked up his trumpet and threw it as hard as he could at the closest man to him, the trumpet bounced off an arm and hit the ground, but Remy was already down the street by then, he glanced over his shoulder just in time to catch the band chasing him, he laughed at them and ran harder. He felt bad deserting his loved trumpet like that, but it was necessary, he ignored it and kept running.
One of the other men was feeling bold, Guillermo Benitez picked up the bent trumpet, and threw it as hard as he could down the alleyway.
It flew.... flew..... flew through the air,
and landed right square in the back of Remy's head.
Remy fell almost immediately, tripping over his own feet, and the curb, he landed face down in a small snowbank, and for a second all was quiet. He sat up, shook his head, looked to the right and saw his beautiful trumpet, still gleaming, though a little bent, and still as beautiful as ever. He grabbed it and put it to his lips to play one more time.
Remy played a beautiful high run on the trumpet...
As the final high C rang out, the band stopped in it's tracks, and the brass players all kind of smiled, Remy had finally hit his high note.
The note faded, and it was replaced with a similar note an octave or two down, the horn of a car. The band spun to look, and they were just in time to see Remy skull, and his prized trumped smashed by the wheels of the car.
There was nothing they could do, they had voted for him anyway. They all departed home, each hoping it would be the end.
CDF/Remy Dupree, Trumpet master, is now dead
Alive: 5/7
Iskander 3.1
Double A
Chaotix
White_eyes:D
Atheotes
Dead: 2/7
Slashandburn
CDF
It is now night 2, orders are due to me by Saturday October 3rd at 9pm
Been having problems posting in here...
Night over, writeup coming.
In a small bar, in chicago, December 21st 1934.
http://farm1.static.flickr.com/123/4...efd213.jpg?v=0
Giovanni Rossini sat in a booth in the back of an dusty bar. He was sipping on some bourbon, for a while now, just sitting and drinking. Every once in a while he took a drag off of the lit cigarette sitting in front of him.
He finished his glass, placed it down and exhaled. He stood up and walked his way to the bathroom, he had been there a bit, and he was drinking the whole time, so things took their natural course.
He took care of his business, through and through, and stepped up to the sink to wash his hands, as he did a man in a large coat, and a scarf stepped in the bathroom, and nodded to him.
"Are you... uh... Giovanni Rossini?" the man asked, rather oddly.
"Y... yeah?" Giovanni nervously replied, he had no idea who this man was or why he would be there...
The man merely smiled, and reached into the closet door. He pulled out a broom, and after sizing it up, broke it over his knee, he slotted one end into the door, jamming it shut, the other end of the broom was still in his hand as he approached Giovanni.
"Good, I had heard I might find you here now, the Don has sent me..." the man finished.
Giovanni reacted in an instant, he stepped forward, and grabbed the broom with one hand, with his other hand he swung at the head of the stranger. The man ducked, and let go of the broom, and Giovanni used this as leverage as he backed up to the door, and carefully removed the broom, while keeping his eyes on this stranger. He threw both halves of the broom down to the floor and kicked the door open. Though the bar was empty, it was certainly enough people to give an accurate testimony, this was Giovanni's plan.
"Don't you know not to mess wit' a guy while he's takin' a leak? The don's got a message for me? Well you can ask me at my table, now sit yer :daisy: down and we can do this the polite like way."
With that he sat down at his table, and ordered some bourbon. The other man sat down across from him, and grabbed one of the cups. He sneered at Giovanni, he was hoping for privacy, but this would do.
"So whaddya want from me?" Giovanni breaks the silence, taking a sip of his bourbon.
The other man places fidgets a bit with his hands, and takes a sip of his drink.
"Well," he starts, "The Don sent me, he said I might find you here in Chicago. You know... the Don really misses you in New York," the man smiles, delighting at this little mental game, "your departure from the scene has sig-NI-figantly effected his income, the departure of many musicians from New York to Chicago has really hurt us, but the boss was especially hurt by your betrayal." the man paused and took a drink.
He continued, "So he sent me out here to... take care of things. Nothing personal towards you, but it's my job, right? Right, but I was thinkin' anyway, maybe you'd be interested in helpin' me? I could see to it that the Don knew about it, I'm sure it might make up for your defection." the man finished for good this time, and smiled at Giovanni, before taking another sip.
Giovanni carefully leans across the table, grabbing the mobster by his collar, "You listen, and you listen to me good you goomba piece of :daisy:, I'm not in your god:daisy:ed mafia, and I'm not going to do your dirty work, whatever you're doing, leave me out of it. If you interrupt me again, like you so rudely did tonight, I'll just kill you in the bathroom instead of being polite, got it?" Giovanni was now panting, and fuming angry, he threw what was left of his bourbon in the mobster's face, grabbed his coat and walked out of the bar, but not before dropping the money for the drinks on his table.
The mobster remains momentarily, stunned at the events that occurred, how could anyone stand up to an entire mob like that, didn't he know who the Don was? It made no difference, the mobster shrugged at this thought, he was a target and he would die just like the rest of them, maybe even sooner because of his affront to the Don, but he would certainly die, make no mistake.
He finished the bourbon in his glass, nodded to the bartender, stood up and left... He had a plan in his head, and he needed to move fast if it was to work...
The appartment of Giovanni Rossini, on the first floor. December 22nd, 1934....
Giovanni Rossini safely arrived at home, he was quite stressed from the night and fumbled with his keys. After leaving the bar he stopped off at another bar to hide out before going home, in case the mobster had left to follow him, he stayed there for a few more hours, it was now around 2:30AM, if anyone else was on the streets he would be able to avoid them, as he would see them coming from miles away. The plan worked, and here he was, fumbling with his :daisy:ing keys.
"Come on," he complained, "Why are there so many keys? I only have two keys!" it was clear that he was agitated, but he got it nonetheless.
He sighed a relieved sigh, and opened the door, eager to sleep. He quickly spun around and double, tripple, quadruple locked his door, he wouldn't take any chances, he knew all those locks would come in handy some day!
He was quite pleased with himself by this point, but his nerves were still shot. He stepped into the kitchen and turned the light on, something seemed amiss but he couldn't put his finger on it.
"Oh well," he thought, "probably just my nerves... I've really gone and :daisy:ed the dog now, I've got a whole mob coming down on me..."
He laughed quietly to himself at that thought, he was much smarter than those goons anyway.
He looked at the stove and tilted his head, he stepped over to it and noticed that one of the burners was on, and he had left the gas on. He laughed again to himself and shut both off, shaking his head.
He lit a cigarette, took a drag and went to place it on the corner of the ashtray while he rummaged through the fridge for something to drink, some milk maybe. However he completely missed the ashtray and the cigarette fell on the table, rolled off that, and landed on the floor with a light Plink!.
"Awww man... this floor's filthy..." Giovanni thought to himself, he picked the cigarette up and put it out in the ashtray. He was about to continue searching the fridge when he heard a knock at his door, he walked back to the entrance to his home and looked through the peephole, the man outside looked... oddly familiar, he was tall, in a nice coat, and he had a great big mustache.
"Yes?" Giovanni asked of the man.
"A thousand pardons sir, but I was wondering if that was your hat?" the mustachioed man pointed to a hat on the sidewalk, just outside of Giovanni's house.
"My hat? Oh man, of course my hat! Thank you sir, that is my hat, let me just grab it." Giovanni felt like quite the fool, he opened all the locks and stepped out, grabbing his hat off of the cold floor. He had been so drunk he forgot that he had worn his good hat out that night. He brushed the snow off of it and turned to smile at the stranger, but he was gone, puzzled he looked around for him.
He didn't see him so he continued to inspect his hat. Wondering how much of a fool he had been, forgetting about his favorite hat, the black one with the brown trim and bow that wrapped around it, and the uh... pinstripes...
"Waitaminute..." he said, "I don't own any hats..." Giovanni laughed to himself, placing the hat back down on the floor, he saw a small note.
He reached down to grab the note, but before he could read it, he was crushed by a piano which fell quite a few stories, out of the sky.
The only noise which sounded was a B flat, from a nearby tenor sax...
Iskander3.1/Giovanni Rossini (Tenor Saxophonist) - Has been killed.
Night 2 over.
It is now day 3, get voting! Votes due Sunday October 4th at 9PM, good luck!
Alive: 4/7
Double A
Chaotix
White_eyes:D
Atheotes
Dead: 3/7
Slashandburn
CDF
Iskander3.1
Iskander plays tenor sax. White eyes also stated to play sax. One of them is mafia.Quote:
Originally Posted by Iskander 3.1
My mafia copy is dead......it must be one of the extras who have not claimed....:inquisitive:Quote:
Originally Posted by slashandburn
Edit:Quote:
Originally Posted by baritone saxophone
I am Louis Knapp the Baritone Saxaphone player...I am sure he must be part of the band somewhere??:juggle2:
In either case Vote:No lynch.....My groove is staying steady:beatnik2:
??? was this directed to me?? or just a lucky guess??:inquisitive:Quote:
Originally Posted by Double A
Edit: Tell me your name....I think your my bro....:beam:
If you guys want to know my instrument, I'm the trombonist. If everyone reveals their instrument, we should be able to find the imposter among us.
Yep, Roger Knapp - Alto Sax PlayerQuote:
Originally Posted by White_eyes:D
It says in my PM you play the Baritone so nothin wrong there.
Iskander claimed on page 1 to play tenor sax. Tenor sax was in the kill writeup.
Split, that was quite possibly one of the saddest things I've ever read in the lynch scene... I think I lost faith in humanity, please excuse me while I cry myself to sleep.
Wait Iskander's dead so only one who hasnt claimed is atheotes. You two are brothers and chaotix is the trombonist.
If we are wrong....we are dead...:shrug:
What about your name??:stare:(We all have famous Jazz names....)Quote:
Originally Posted by Chaotix
Things look bad for atheotes....He looks dead guilty in my eyes:inquisitive:
I still want to hear Chaotix's name though...:whip: