Capo di Tutti Capi II - Story thread

[Andres]

This is post 1004 in the main thread.


"Choose the players, choose the role
Cast of thousands, cast of few
Imagination decides the plot
Play the good guy, play the bad
Heres the victim, heres the saint
Heres the canvas, heres the paint

Good luck bad luck who knows
Good luck bad luck who knows"
-- Howard Jones



Night Two Summary


GeneralHankerchief had just stepped out of the cab when it happened. Before he could even straighten up fully he was staring into the barrel of a handgun – looking like a cannon to him from his viewpoint – so he stopped.

“Sit back in car prease,” said the masked gunman in a bad Asian accent.

GeneralHankerchief saw the cabby running up the block, and knew with a sinking certainty that he’d be sitting back down next to another gunman who’d entered from the street side and that this ride would be his last. He sat back down anyway – not much choice – while the first gunman went around to the driver’s seat.

GeneralHankerchief turned to see who the second gunman was. An empty seat? There was nobody else in the cab! Stunned, but not willing to miss a chance, Generalhankerchief bolted out of his door exactly as the “Asian” gunman climbed into the driver’s seat. He was 40 feet away and doging and weaving toward a crowd of tourists – currently arguing with two Fatlington cops about a parking ticket – when the gunman got a line on him with his weapon. The gunman paused.

It was too much of a distance for the silenced hand-cannon to stay accurate at a moving target and too many eyes and cops down range. The gunman made the professional choice, got in the cab quietly without any sudden motions, and drove away. GeneralHankerchief faded into the crowd.

Cowhead418 had a quiet dinner and headed back to his apartment. Heading up the stairs to the 3rd floor flat he was slammed into from above by somebody jumping over the landing railing above to hammer him down. He blacked out.

When he awoke, he found he had been carried into his apartment, bound, gagged and tied to a chair. On the table coffee table in front of him was a lit candle….and he could hear and smell the gas that was hissing from the stove in his kitchen. In moments the gas would rise to the level of the candle and…

A key fumbled in his lock and in came his batty landlady!

“That putz! He left the gas running and his pilot light is out. He’ll blow the whole block apart. It’s a lucky thing the movie was so bad, or I wouldn’t have come back for hours…”

Cowhead418 mumbled trying to get her attention. She never heard him. She did, however, stop the gas, turn on his window fan and leave his apartment, all the while never noticing him and muttering comments about his doubtful intelligence.

Cowhead418 took hours to smash the chair and extricate himself. Other than bruises from being dropped on, he was in good shape. He’d never be quite as frustrated with his dingbat landlady again.


Andres wasn’t expecting to be attacked as he stepped out of the restaurant – too many people and too bright an area – but his reactions were lightning fast when the trench-coated attacker began to level a shotgun at him. Andres spun and rolled, putting himself behind a marble bench at the restaurant entrance while Fermanagh’s police leaped forward – just a little late – to save the day. The attackers were professionals – they had escape routes ready – and quickly beat a retreat before the policemen could do more than form a protective cordon around Andres. Nobody had attacked a director before! But the protection around one is a bit hard to break through – even it Fermanagh didn’t do much else promptly or correctly.

taka was taking his usual drive home – a well lit street that was well patrolled and therefore safe – when his car was boxed in and stopped by several vehicles. In Fatlington, safe is a relative term.

Tommy guns were coming up and starting to hose lead almost as the vehicle ground to a halt. The range was less than ten feet and there was not a chance they would miss. Police were responding in under 30 seconds, sirens blaring and several cars converging on the scene, but in that half minute more than 300 rounds had been emptied from the drum magazines of the tommy guns. The assailant’s cars sped quickly into side streets and were quickly abandoned as the gunmen clear the scene.

To everyone’s surprise, taka stepped out of the vehicle with only one wound – a gouge along one cheekbone no deeper than a bad shaving cut. He was stunned as were the police. taka had worn no armor and the car had been a stock model, yet 354 rounds had failed to take him out.

Glenn was sitting at a café – his back to a brick wall – worried about his chances of making it to the next meeting and hoping that his protector would still be there. He heared a commotion at the back of the café and reached for a recently purchased revolver in his pocket.

The assailant burst into the café from the back, flinging two masked individuals aside to crash into the back booths and making stright for Glenn. Glenn fired two rounds quickly straight and true into the center of mass. The opponent slowed, grunted, and continued forward breaking a statue of St. Michael across Glenn’s temple. Glenn dropped back into his seat unconscious.

The assailant started to lift Glenn, only to stop when he heard the twin clicks of a double-barreled shotgun being cocked to fire.

“Leave him be,” said the lone gunman. The masked assailant paused, let go of Glenn, and sobbing ran from the front of the café. The shotgun wielder leaned down to Glenn, checked for a pulse – steady – and then left.

Glenn would suffer no more than a mild concussion, though he wouldn’t be free of his headaches for some time. The police never figured out the purpose of the van abandoned at the back of the café. In the back had been a sharp filleting knife, two large helium tanks, and 4 weather balloons with the legend “deu 32:35” printed on them.

Lord Winter was cagey – walking home to his apartment via the boardwalk so that he could be sure there were plenty of people around. It would not be enough. A section of boards collapsed beneath him dumping him onto the sand below where a masked figure clubbed him into unconsciousness.

He was injected with a lethal dose of heroin shortly thereafter – mostly to keep him unconscious as he faded out. He was tied, gagged and given a heavy set of cement boots – actually a galvanized tub filled with drying cement – and dropped into 20 feet of water at the end of the pier. He was, fortunately, dead from the overdose before he slipped under the water. His remains would never be found – except by the crabs.

Two groups of shadowy figures faced one another on the roofs and alleys surrounding JimBob’s apartment. Figures would catch a glimpse of one another and freeze, poised for action – but nothing happened. The only sound came from the radio blaring in Ajaxfetish’s apartment next door to JimBobs – “My Favorite Husband,” starring Lucille Ball – followed by a lot of music and then silence as everybody in the apartments got a restful night’s sleep. Neither group of shadow figures ever made a move.


Morning Day Three

Fermanagh was visibly confused and shame-faced at his report that morning. He recounted the events of the night before as summed up on the police blotter, but he botched things and had to do it twice – he’d even mentioned Andres as a murder victim! Andres had cleared his throat and Fermanagh had started over, finally getting it out clearly.

“We’re wrapping up our post-mortem review of Drisos and we have the other ones in the pipeline.”

Fermanagh was flustered, and probably happy that he was specifically excluded from the lynch candidates by Tosa’s instructions.

“Thanks SO much chief,” said Andres, “Now let me outline the procedures for this evenings vote and any punishments meted out…”



OOC

1. Voting will conclude at 1500 HRS EST, 11 Feb 08 (2000 GMT).

2. Please remember that in addition to any lynch votes, you must select a Director for days 4 & 5.

3. I’ll try to remember that the director actually receives protection the nights before their lynch vote chairings.

4. Here’s a Full list of players to date:

Still Alive: (76) ajaxfetish, Alexander the Pretty Good, Andres, Beefy187, Big King Sanctaphrax, Brave Sir Robin, Caeser the III, Caius, Charge, Chimpyang, CountArach, Cowhead418, Craterus, Crazed Rabbit, Draco Leman, Dutch guy, Elite Ferret, Evil_Maniac from Mars, FactionHeir, Fahad I, GeneralHankerchief, gibsonsg91921, Glenn, Hannibalbarc, Haudegen, Hiji, Husar, Ichigo, Ironside, JimBob, Joe Monks, johnhughthom, Jubal_Barca, Kagemusha, KamiKhaan, Killfr3nzy, Kommodus, KukriKhan, Leet Erikson, LittleGrizzly, Louis VI the Fat, Lt. Pinard, Makanyane, molonthegreat, Moros, Motep, Myrrdraal, Northnovas, norwegian nerd, Omanes Alexandrapolites, Pannonian, pevergreen, Proletariat, Roadkill, Rob_the_Celt, Rythmic, sapi, Sarathos, Sasaki Kojiro, scottishranger, shlin28, Sigurd Fafnesbane, taka, The Stranger, Tiberius of the Drake, TinCow, Tran, TruePraetorian, Twilightblade, Warluster, Warmaster Horus, woad&fangs, x-dANGEr, Xdeathfire, Xehh II, Xiahou, Zorg.

Attacked: (8) Beefy187 (N1), Glenn (N1, N2), Xdeathfire (N1), Andres (N2), taka (N2), GeneralHankerchief (N2), Cowhead418 (N2)

Murdered: (2) Drisos (N1), Lord Winter (N2)

Lynched: (1) pevergreen (D2)

Removed from Play: (0)