Mafia VIII - information and summary thread

[GeneralHankerchief]

Day breaks in the Frontroom. All is quiet. The birds had returned since the unexpected disturbance of their morning routine yesterday, although they were not singing, as if wary that there would be a similiar breaking of the silence today. The fact that the Chief of Police had spent the previous night looking out the window overlooking his car, clutching his hunting rifle, probably didn't help things either.

The mood of the birds of the Frontroom was a microcosm for the mood of the village as a whole: Normal, but cautious. Yes, they had lynched one of their own the previous night. Yes, Beirut had done so with the most inhumane procedure any of them had ever heard of, especially in the Kingdom of Peace and Love. Yes, the townspeople were confident in their choice.

But... there was still the possibility that they were wrong.

It didn't bother Andres enough to keep him from his own morning jogging routine, however. After all, what was a potential mafia attack with the consequences reaching the possibility of the total extinction of his peaceful little town when compared with the maintenance of his fitness regimen?

To be fair, it helped that he jogged on the other side of town from Tratorix's usual route. Andres went the scenic way, spending quite a bit of time in the Frontroom Park, far away from the alleyway which, by this point, had been sealed off.

He jogged past the lake, with its many ducks and trace amounts of osmium, around the Frontroom cliffs with its extremely pointy rocks at the bottom, back to the lake where, sitting on a bench that looked like it hadn't been there before, was a man, impeccably dressed, wearing a fedora and trenchcoat and waving at Andres.

Andre, out of breath, stopped automatically to wave back and chat with the man. "Excellent morning for running, I do say," he said aimiably.

"They all are," Andres said.

"Indeed," said the man. "Allow me to recommend a beautiful route up in the hills, if you're up for a change of scenery."

"The hills, eh?" Andres panted. "Maybe it is time to adjust my route. I'll have to try that sometime."

"I'm afraid you won't be able to," the man said, whipping out his revolver and blasting Andres, all with an apologetic smile on his face. Andres's lifeless corpse rolled into the lake, the ducks having already made room for him by flying away upon the sound of the mafioso's gunshot.

Craterus, deep in the Frontroom marshes, watched the ducks fly away with his high-powered binoculrs. They were headed right for him, probably to make themselves comfortable in their second habitat now that the lake in the park (and the many breadcrumbs to go with it) had been disturbed.

He took his own hunting rifle and prepared to make a kill... but decided against it. If he shot one of them now then the others might pass by him entirely, headed for perhaps another habitat. No, better to let them rest, lull them in a false sense of security... and then pick them off with the help of his trusty decoy.

So he watched as the ducks landed in the marshes and spread out... and lied in wait.

Time passed...

Thirty minutes...

...an hour...

Finally, he was ready. The decoy had been set afloat and one particular mallard was now interested in it, swimming over to it to further examine it. Craterus had his gun ready, the duck in his sights, his finger on the trigger...

BBBB-BRBBTA-BRBBTA-BRAWWWWWWW!!!

Startled at this new sounds, all the ducks flew away. Craterus, totally concentrated on getting the duck by the decoy, was taken totally by surprise and missed any chance he had at nabbing any of the ducks. Cursing silently, he waited as the sound drew closer.

The sound in question was a motorboat, strangely being piloted by a fully-dressed man, heading right for him.

"You idiot!" Craterus shouted when the man in the motorboat was close enough. "You made me miss my ducks! I had been lying in wait for over an hour!"

"And lie you shall do some more," the man said, pumping his shotgun and sending Craterus into the quickly-dirtying water.

"At least there was one kill in the marshes today," the man said as he piloted his boat back to civilization.

Later that day, Chief of Police Beirut had gathered the remaining villagers into the town square in order to make an announcement.

"Gentlemen," he began, "today there has been two more kills, both concerning the ducks of the Frontroom. The poor creatures got so startled at listening to two separate gunshots that one of them FLEW RIGHT INTO MY BAY WINDOW!!! Do you realize how much those things cost?! That was imported glass, too..."

"Who was murdered?" somebody asked.

"Andres and Craterus," Beirut said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Thus, we will have to begin the lynching process again. I have a couple of notes, though. First of all, due to all the property damage caused by these murders - namely, my property being damaged - a $2000 fine will be imposed in addition to execution. Second of all, I received a note from the OBI (the .Org Bureau of Investigation, that is) saying that killing somebody via a rusty knife, live burial, and tarantulas is inhumane and thus, illegal. So scaring the mafia is out."

"Wait a minute, the OBI tells us ways we can't kill people but won't help us out with this mafia problem?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Beirut said. "Get voting!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Still alive: (33)
Ichigo
RoadKill
TinCow
Elite Ferret
woad&fangs
shlin28
makaikhaan
Sasaki Kojiro
LittleGrizzly
Sigurd Fafnesbane
Caius
Gaius Scribonius Curio
peverpink
Sarathos
Mithrandir
Beefy187
Tiberius of the Drake
KukriKhan
TevashSzat
|Sith|R|AntiWarmanCake88
Crazed Rabbit
Fenring
Lord Winter
CountArach
Kommodus
Rythmic
Seamus Fermanagh
Quintus.J.Cicero
Kagemusha
georgeman51
discovery1
FactionHeir
Joe Monks

Killed:
Tratorix
Omanes Alexandrapolites
Andres
Craterus

Executed:
Privateerkev

[GeneralHankerchief]

The goofiness and mingling that had categorized the previous day's execution had died a swift death after the morning's murders. Everybody realized that, hey, four people had died, not counting the lynch, and the mafia weren't going away. With that in mind, everyone buckled down and got to work - those who bothered working, that is.

Everyone except Elite Ferret.

Apparently not having got the message, this obviously coldhearted, callous, unfeeling individual quickly earned the ire of everyone around him by cracking (bad) jokes, voting for weird reasons, and generally ot taking the process seriously.

"You think this is something funny?!" one of the townspeople screamed at him. "You think that it's okay to laugh at four of us dying horrible deaths?"

The sand pit on the execution platform stirred for a second, as if making a comment on the number of people dead that was stated. Nobody noticed, however.

Instead, the town's bloodlust had been activated at the perceived attack on their values. In an instant, all of them seemed to change into farmers' clothing and brought out torches and pitchforks, seemingly out of nowhere.

"Kill the jokester! Kill the jokester!"

EF paled.

"Now, wait a second guys - hold on! I'll help you out! Really, I will! See, look - where'd you get that gun from? Didn't two of us die from shotgun wounds? Think about him, guys! Uh... guys? Guys?!"

It was too late, however. The villagers of the Kingdom of Peace and Love were in full mob mode and directing their wrath towards Elite Ferret, who scrambled up the execution platform and cowered behind Chief of Police Beirut.

"Beirut, please! You gotta help me out! This crowd... this... this is madness!"

Suddenly Beirut ripped his shirt off and grew a full beard.

"Madness...?" the Chief of Police said. "THIS... IS... SPARTA!!!"

Raising his right leg, he kicked Elite Ferret with the bottom of his foot, who fell into the torches and pitchforks of the angry crowd. They swarmed around him, shouting and cursing so loudly that even EF's screams could not be heard. When they finally calmed down, ten minutes later, Elite Ferret was simply gone. There were a few bloodstains on the ground as well as ash, but that was it.

"Wow," said Beirut, back to his normal self. "Impressive. I also want to thank you guys for helping me out there. You ee, thanks to the OBI's meddling, I didn't even have an execution planned. Anyway, go back to your homes and hope we made the right decision."

Day 2 tally:

Elite Ferret: 5 (TinCow, makaikhaan, LittleGrizzly, Beefy187, Seamus Fermanagh)
FactionHeir: 2 (woad&fangs, Gaius Scribonius Curio)
LittleGrizzly: 2 (shlin28, TevashSzat)
Sasaki Kojiro: 1 (Ichigo)
Ichigo: 1 (Elite Ferret)
Beefy187: 1 (peverpink)
shlin28: 1 (Sarathos)
Mithrandir: 1 (KukriKhan)
Kagemusha: 1 (Crazed Rabbit)
Seamus Fermanagh: 1 (Kagemusha)
makaikhaan: 1 (FactionHeir)

Abstained: 2 (Rythmic, Joe Monks)
Didn't vote: everybody else.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Still alive: (32)
Ichigo
RoadKill
TinCow
woad&fangs
shlin28
makaikhaan
Sasaki Kojiro
LittleGrizzly
Sigurd Fafnesbane
Caius
Gaius Scribonius Curio
peverpink
Sarathos
Mithrandir
Beefy187
Tiberius of the Drake
KukriKhan
TevashSzat
|Sith|R|AntiWarmanCake88
Crazed Rabbit
Fenring
Lord Winter
CountArach
Kommodus
Rythmic
Seamus Fermanagh
Quintus.J.Cicero
Kagemusha
georgeman51
discovery1
FactionHeir
Joe Monks

Killed:
Tratorix
Omanes Alexandrapolites
Andres
Craterus

Executed:
Privateerkev
Elite Ferret

Not happy about all the no-votes.

PMs please.

[GeneralHankerchief]

Day breaks in the Frontroom. All is quiet. A good old-fashioned angry mob session was as effective as a hard night of drinking when it came to tiredness the next day, and as a result, most people were sleeping in. Out of those that weren't, none of them went jogging, not after two of the murdered were joggers.

However, there were other reasons to be out. There were some rituals that required strict adherence to tradition, after all. One of them happened to be smoking. LittleGrizzly was one of those people who truly only smoked for pleasure, not because he was addicted to the nicotine. He didn't waste his time with those filthy cigarettes, which he considered the height of uncouthness. No, he instead enjoyed one of life's greatest pleasures: Cubans.

Grizz hadn't replenished his supply in a while, and it would be impossible to do so now that the mafia were on the attack. He was down to one box, so he figured that he might as well enjoy them. So, on another beautiful morning in the Frontroom, he took his remaining box, drove downtown, and made his way to one of the roofs to enjoy his cigar n the morning air.

He was halfway through, puffing away, when another figure emerged from the stairs. The man was impeccably dressed, wearing a trenchcoat and a gray fedora. One of his hands were concealed inside the trenchcoat, immediately alerting Grizz that something was wrong. He quickly began eyeing nearby buildings, calculating which one posed the least risk of injury should he have to make a jump for it.

Then the man spoke. "What a wonderful day this is," he said in a cheery voice. Its overall tone completely disarmed Grizz, who wasn't expecting it. "Ah, yes," the man said, noticing Grizz's Cuban. "A Cuban on a roof, on a beautiful day. It's times like these where it's a pleasure to be alive."

"Why, yes it is," said Grizzly, ready to make conversation and now completely unsuspecting. Then the man's hand whipped out of his trenchcoat, tightly gripping a revolver. "Too bad this will be the last day you are." He pulled the trigger and LittleGrizzly went down.

The man walked over to Grizz's corpse, picking up the box of slightly bloodstained Cubans. "Well, I might as well put these to good use," he said, depositing the box inside his trenchcoat and walking away.

Unbeknownst to the mafioso, his shot had once again scared off all of the birds in the area. This was the signal that TevashSzat had been waiting for. For the past two days, he had listened to the Chief of Police rant about how, because of the shots fired, the birds of the Frontroom had been disturbed, usually ending in property damage. Tevash figured that if he could pinpoint the spot where the birds were all flying away from, he would have a good chance of catching a bad guy.

"Downtown," he muttered, pocketing his bioculars and getting into his old blue car. From what he gathered, it had to be there, consdering that the birds were flying in all directions away from that area and that he had heard the shot from his house, meaning that it was probably fired on a roof where there wasn't much to block the sound from going far.

Tevash drove further and further downtown, checking for signs, looking for people... he saw someone, upon his approach, duck into a building - maybe that was the guy! Tevash sharply braked, turning his car around as he did so, preparing to make another pass-

Out of nowhere, a black Mercedes, screeching along, threatened to ram Tevash's car right into the building. Tevash swerved out of the way, just in time, and floored it. Finding the mafioso was important, but so was surviving!

He made a sharp right onto the next street, almost slamming into a fruit stand because he went a little too wide. After jamming on the gas once again, he checked his rearview mirror. The black Mercedes was right behind him, showing no signs of having almost flubbed the turn.

"I have to get out of this area," Tevash said to himself. No matter how many sharp turns he would make, the black Mercedes would always have better handling than his old blue car. The best chance was to simply stay on a road for as long as he could... and hope that the mafioso would run out of gas, or hit a tree, or something.

He stayed on a straightaway, swerving from time to time as the buildings grew farther apart and the trees grew closer together. The mafioso was keeping pace, he noticed to his chagrin. There really wasn't much he could do, he realized. The odds needed to be evened up.

He reached around his car, rolling down his window and searched for anything he might be able to throw at his pursuer. Spare change (no effect), an umbrella (missed), a large map - hit! The toss had worked perfectly, with the map unfolding itself and attaching itself to the mafioso's windshield, totally blocking his field of view.

Unfazed, the mafioso calmly held the wheel, going straight, and took out his shotgun, blowing the windshield away. His vision was restored, but now, Tevash noticed, there was nothing between him and the open air. Grinning, he took the binoculars out of his pocket and, taking his eyes off the road, aimed right for his pursuer's face.

The binoculars and the mafioso connected, with the Mercedes going upwards of 100 mph in one direction and the binoculars going a significant speed in the opposite direction, all resulting in a broken nose for the man in the Mercedes. Cursing, he swerved as he wiped the blood off, narrowly avoiding a tree. He was well behind Tevash's car now.

Back in the front, Tevash saw the mafioso take his eyes off the road once again. It was clear, even from a distance, that the mafioso was rifling through his Mercedes, looking for something. Then he saw it, headed his way, a perfect throw made.

The grenade made contact with the old blue car just as Tevash threw himself out of the driver's seat, rolling on the road, scraping himself in numerous places as his body went from 100 mph to zero. A second later, his car ignited, making him feel a little bit better about his injuries.

VROOM-CRUNCH! The pain increased exponentially as several tons of rubber and metal rolled over his body. Tevash could feel his bones breaking inside him, could hear the screech of the Mercedes ahead as it stopped...

...and then, the pain again, as the mafioso, slowly, painstakingly, ran over TevashSzat again, this time in reverse. He got out of the car, still bleeding from the nose, and gripped his shotgun. Without a word, he pointed it at his barely-conscious victim and shot.

"Didd't adyone eber tell you dat the victibs are suppode to go quiedly?" he said through his nose. He blasted Tevash once more for good measure, and then stomped him in the nose, breaking it. An eye for an eye, perhaps, even though there was no need.

He got back in his Mercedes and still drove away, cursing about the broken windshield all the blood he was getting in its fancy interior.

Later that day, Chief of Police Beirut had gathered the remaining villagers in the town square in order to make an announcement.

"Gentlemen," he began. "We have two more deaths today. LittleGrizzly has died smoking and TevashSzat has died in an epic car chase where we believe grenades, shotguns, and road maps were used."

"Wow!" someone exclaimed. "What was he doing before that?"

"Birdwatching," Beirut said. "By the way, speaking of the road map, I found this scribbled on the back of the road map. It might be helpful."

He passed copies of the message around to everybody, which read:

"Trouvez les lettres perdus pour aider le village"

"I have no idea what that means, but good luck."

"Wait a minute," somebody said, "Aren't you French-Canadian?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Beirut said. "Get voting!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Still alive: (30)
Ichigo
RoadKill
TinCow
woad&fangs
shlin28
makaikhaan
Sasaki Kojiro
Sigurd Fafnesbane
Caius
Gaius Scribonius Curio
peverpink
Sarathos
Mithrandir
Beefy187
Tiberius of the Drake
KukriKhan
|Sith|R|AntiWarmanCake88
Crazed Rabbit
Fenring
Lord Winter
CountArach
Kommodus
Rythmic
Seamus Fermanagh
Quintus.J.Cicero
Kagemusha
georgeman51
discovery1
FactionHeir
Joe Monks

Killed:
Tratorix
Omanes Alexandrapolites
Andres
Craterus
LittleGrizzly
TevashSzat

Executed:
Privateerkev
Elite Ferret

[GeneralHankerchief]

Day 3 of the attack on the Frontroom. Six were gone, four courtesy of the mafia, two by the town's own hand. Shortly that number would rise to three, for sunset and thus the counting of the votes drew near.

The unlucky third lynchee appeared more and more likely to be peverpink, who had committed the critical error of goofing around too much. Apparently, even the barbaric execution of Elite Ferret during the previous day had failed to convince him to wise up and get serious about things. pever was about to pay the ultimate price.

"Kill the jokester! Kill the jokester!"

It was all too familiar. The town had yet to take out their mob clothing, torches, and pitchforks, but the reason that they were going after pever was exactly the same. pever, realizing far too late that he had taken things too far, tried to backpedal and plead with the town to spare him.

"Okay, I admit it! I lied! So what if I wasn't the Detective, I'm still a townie! I'm still with you guys!"

The town wasn't buying it. pever picked up the villagers' bloodlust, exhibiting a sixth sense akin to when certain animals detect fear. Remembering what had happened to EF the night before, he realized his chances of survival remaining among the townspeople weren't good. He scrambled up the execution platform, cowering behind Chief of Police Beirut, once again paralleling the lynching of yesterday.

"All right, look. I know I'm going to be lynched, so-"

"That's right," Beirut interrupted, "You are. I was about to read the tally."

"Everyone knows it's me. Can we just get on with it? I'd prefer a quick death."

"Hold on there, young'un," Beirut said. "Procedure must be honored." He cleared his throat, speaking to the rest of the angry town.

"Gentlemen," he began, "You have chosen to execute Peverpink for crimes of the Frontroom today..."

"peverpink with a lowercase 'p'", the condemned muttered under his breath."

"...now then," Beirut said, finishing up, "He is to die!"

The crowd cheered wildly. An outside observer witnessing this scene might have noted that the villagers of the Frontroom were perhaps too into it, chanting and screaming and calling for engeance. Now, finally, the mob clothes and torches and pitchforks came out, completing the déjà vu.

"peverpink," Beirut boomed. "You are hereby sentenced to death by immolation. If you are religious, now would be a good time to pray."

Looking around, pever noticed the crowd gripping their torches tighter, as if preparing to throw them. "Now, waitaminute," he said, "You're gonna waste your brand new execution platform on me? And what about you? You're here too!"

Beirut chuckled. "Unfortunately for you, only the top of the platform is flammable. And as for me, well... the Chief of Police always has a way out." Pressing a button, a propellor popped out of the top of Beirut's police hat. A second later, he was puttering above the crowd and out of sight, leaving pever to the mercy, or lack thereof, of the crowd.

The immolation was bright enough to illuminate Beirut's way home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Still alive: (29)
Ichigo
RoadKill
TinCow
woad&fangs
shlin28
makaikhaan
Sasaki Kojiro
Sigurd Fafnesbane
Caius
Gaius Scribonius Curio
Sarathos
Mithrandir
Beefy187
Tiberius of the Drake
KukriKhan
|Sith|R|AntiWarmanCake88
Crazed Rabbit
Fenring
Lord Winter
CountArach
Kommodus
Rythmic
Seamus Fermanagh
Quintus.J.Cicero
Kagemusha
georgeman51
discovery1
FactionHeir
Joe Monks

Killed:
Tratorix
Omanes Alexandrapolites
Andres
Craterus
LittleGrizzly
TevashSzat

Executed:
Privateerkev
Elite Ferret
peverpink

PMs please.