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Thread: Capo di Tutti Capi - III (Summaries and Notices)

  1. #31
    Praefectus Fabrum Senior Member Anime BlackJack Champion, Flash Poker Champion, Word Up Champion, Shape Game Champion, Snake Shooter Champion, Fishwater Challenge Champion, Rocket Racer MX Champion, Jukebox Hero Champion, My House Is Bigger Than Your House Champion, Funky Pong Champion, Cutie Quake Champion, Fling The Cow Champion, Tiger Punch Champion, Virus Champion, Solitaire Champion, Worm Race Champion, Rope Walker Champion, Penguin Pass Champion, Skate Park Champion, Watch Out Champion, Lawn Pac Champion, Weapons Of Mass Destruction Champion, Skate Boarder Champion, Lane Bowling Champion, Bugz Champion, Makai Grand Prix 2 Champion, White Van Man Champion, Parachute Panic Champion, BlackJack Champion, Stans Ski Jumping Champion, Smaugs Treasure Champion, Sofa Longjump Champion Seamus Fermanagh's Avatar
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    Default Re: Capo di Tutti Capi - III (Summaries and Notices)

    Summary of Events, Night Nine


    Andres had just exited the bar at the Hotel Abbatoir when he noticed a blast of flame a few stories up on a building in the distance….just about exactly from the location of his new and hastily-rented apartment. He paused for a moment, and then a black glossy-leather clad arm stretched around him and gently steered him to a new path into Seaside Park. As he could plainly see the glint of a throwing knife in the figure’s other hand and the haft of a pole-sword angling forward over the man’s shoulder, he did not make any sudden moves and went quietly, at least for now.

    “Andres, Andres, Andres, do you not see? Can you not follow the pattern?
    Ah well, no matter the reason…you are to be my audience this night.”

    They walked briskly through Seaside Park, then quietly covered the mile from the park to the wharf district in a little over 20 minutes. Andres glanced around, looking for opportunities to escape, but saw none that wouldn’t have earned him a blade before he could get far enough to make a difference.

    They entered a disused warehouse half a block off the canal. Gently prodded by the ashanderei, Andres found himself in the middle of the warehouse floor, its old wooden beams and boards thoroughly soaked and standing puddles everywhere. The dim light coming through the skylights above was enough to reveal 5 huge glass containers hanging from the beams above the wet floor. Andres couldn’t see what was inside in the dim light, but had a suspicion that they would be gold in color.


    "If you look carefully, you will see the path to the door…"

    The black-clad stranger then stepped through the doorway himself and in an almost impossibly fast whirl of steel, sent five kunai spinning into the darkened warehouse as Andres ducked low. Each blade severed the rope suspending one of the glass bottles which fell and shattered, scattering their powder on the wet floor. The resultant flame blast from the mixture was just as intense as Andres had remembered…but there was some sort of a path. Andres didn’t hesitate, but pushed himself through the opening in the swirling flame, following the path as it wound to the large loading door street-side. Though debris fell on him and the flames seared his exposed skin, Andres suffered nothing harsher than a sunburn while wending his way through the flames to the street.

    Arriving at the door, Andres beheld a line of cars – all covered in what appeared to be a powdery gold paint – and wanted no part of it. He stepped to the side, intending to avoid the cars and head along the side of the burning warehouse to the cross street. Three flashes of silver whipped in front of his eyes, the kunai sparking off the pavement in front of him in a perfect line with the path he had intended to take. Gulping, Andres reversed himself and hopped off the loading platform, beginning his walk between the cars.

    As he came near each car, the dark stranger flung bottles of water onto the vehicle, each vehicle flaming in succession as the water sprayed onto the golden powder in the “paint” that had been applied. Andres walk became a run, then a sprint as he strove to get away from the heat blasts, each one painful to his lightly singed skin. He went full-bore for more than a quarter mile before stopping – in a well-lit and busy area.
    Andres made his way home reasonably quickly from there. As he’d suspected, it HAD been his apartment that had been roasted. The engine crew that had arrived to put out the flames were finishing their task as Andres stood there, looking up at the burnt windows of his rooms. A motorcycle idled into the street a few feet behind him.


    "Well Andres tonight's show is over, but there is always tomorrow if you like."

    With a laugh, the black-clad stranger goosed the throttle of his Triumph and quickly zipped away into the night. Andres headed back to the bar.


    It had been decided that Pannonian would commit suicide by “jumping” from the roof of Mercy Hospital – one of only two structures in all of Fatlington, that exceeded 20 stories in height.

    The plan had started well enough. One man stepped out in front of Pannonian with a leveled shotgun and Pannonian had leapt to the side only to run into the tip of his second assailant’s strategically placed – and drug laced – umbrella. Pannonian had collapsed and the rest had been a simple matter of transport.

    Using a hospital gurney, the two assailants – conveniently masked – had rolled him into the elevator and up to the 28th floor. From there, they’d had to carry him to the roof. Nobody was quite sure why the top two floors of Mercy hadn’t been completed, just that you had to wander around a silly maze of half-constructed walls, up one stairwell, and up one ladder to access the roof. Nevertheless, Pannonian made the trip. He was then given the opportunity to prove he could fly while not possessing either wings or consciousness.

    Then the laws of chance intervened. The collar of his trench coat caught on a protruding metal corner and, rather than simply tearing away as he fell, tore in a long rolling strip that ended up functioned as some kind of rope bringing Pannonian almost to a stop at around 3 floors down. The wind whipped him sideways, tearing the “rope” and renewing his fall, but had carried him far enough sideways to land on and collapse an awning over one of the patient “viewing” balconies on the 20th floor. The collapse of the awning absorbed almost all of the momentum he’d picked up after falling the 60-odd feet to the awning. Orderlies quickly rushed to Pannonian’s aid while two men quietly made their way off the roof of the hospital.



    Diana Abnoba [I]wasn’t going to trust to luck anymore – she’d assumed that she’d used hers up a few nights back. Trips to and from the committee meetings – and anywhere else for that matter, were accomplished in her new, and pretty well armored, Ford. This time, however, she’d been stopped by a police officer.

    “But I WASN”T speeding,” said Diana. “It’s posted 35 and I was doing 30!”

    And she had been. This was not sufficient enough, however, to prevent her being stopped by a cop who’d been paid $50 to stop her as a joke.

    “Ma’am, again, license and registration plea….”

    The officer stopped mid-word, his eye’s bulging and opened wide with shock. He fell forward onto Diana’s lap – she’d had to open the door as the armored windows did not roll down – causing her to yelp in surprise. She looked up just in time to take the second pair of .28 Beretta slugs through her left eye, dying even more quickly than the cop who’d taken the first pair of slugs to his medulla – conveniently exposed as he bent to talk to Diana – a second before.

    The killer let the gun fall to the ground, removed a violin bow from his pocket and placed the bow on Diana’s body, and then walked away from the scene.



    DisgruntledGoat had been working on his paranoia steadily as events unfolded in Fatlington. He now wore armor – quite a lot of it – and was always armed. He ate his meal in a private room at the restaurant, with his gun ready to “greet” anyone but the proprietor who entered. He’d even hired a couple of private security types to go first through doorways and to start his car for him.

    What got him was simple volume of fire. As he left the restaurant, one guard leading the way while the other started the car, 5 different shooters opened up with their Thompsons from varying ranges. While the shooters weren’t strictly “religious” types – their aim was pretty solid – they certainly did not believe in 3-4 shot bursts. All 5 drum magazines were unloaded in seconds with shots hammering the guard to the ground and shattering both his legs, shots hammering the doors and windows of the bistro, and shots slamming into Goat’s armor and pinning him to the door frame. The closest shooter had slammed at least half of his rounds into Goat’s armor from less than 15 feet.

    The armor had worked, but no armor made could have warded off that many repeated impacts that close together. Bleeding from several wounds in the arms and legs, as well as from numerous internal injuries caused by the repeated impact of so many rounds, DisgruntledGoat bled to death before help could arrive.



    Sasaki Kojiro was at a bit of a loss. Somehow a stop at the Abbatoir bar didn’t feel right anymore, and the death of the counterman at his favorite coffee shop had closed that establishment too. He decided to head to his apartment and have a nightcap there.

    He had less than a block to go when the man turned the corner. Hat pulled low over his eyes and collar up, it would have been tough to identify him under any circumstances. It was even harder to try to identify him as he was also firing a .45 ACP from each hand as he ran at Sasaki. Sasaki jumped to the side, putting a car between himself and the heavy pistol rounds. Both pistols clicked onto empty chambers.


    “This is only the first wave!” Screamed the shooter as he kept running past Sasaki and went around the corner into the darkness. “The FIRST!”

    Sasaki sat there only for a moment. He then stood up from between the two bullet-battered cars and walked carefully towards his apartment building door. He was particularly wary. One thing was for certain in the mind of any resident of any seaside town. Waves just keep coming.


    Sigurd was ready for an attack, but like so many before him he wasn’t expecting it to come in the form of a 6’ tall rabbit wielding a double-barreled shotgun. The bunny had leveled and fired on him before he though to take any evasive action.

    Others, however, HAD reacted in time. Between Sigurd and the rabbit, a pair of large steel cellar doors had opened up, revealing the access to the storeroom below….and intercepting both of the shotgun’s heavy slugs. Firepower coming out of the nearby windows quickly convinced the rabbit to make his escape.

    Sigurd’s second would-be assassin had been frustrated by a trio of vans pulling up between him and Sigurd. The second shooter’s first blast had been intercepted by the armored side of the van and ricochets had nearly come right back at their firer. This second gunman also faded into the darkness.


    Later that night,
    Moros sat drinking a last whiskey before heading home. It tasted sour.

    “That was awful, Hank,” said Moros, making a face. “What did you put in there?”

    “Nothing,” said Hank, “Just the first of a new bottle.”

    Hank sniffed the bottle, surprised at the slightly sour aroma.

    “Something IS bad with this one,” he said. “I’ll pitch this one out and tomorrow’s is on me.”

    Moros smiled back, nodded, and then left the bar for home.

    Meanwhile, the man dressed as a Fatlington Police Officer, badge #5, who had been sitting in the far corner of the taproom, pulled his hat even lower over his eyes and then made his way out of the bar as well. The odds of a person being immune to that powerful soporific were about 1 in every 50 million people. Some people are just a bit luckier than others. The fake officer shook his head, frustrated, as he made his way out into the darkness.



    Morning Session, Day Ten


    “…So that’s how things went last night,” finished Fermanagh.

    “We’ve got two more post-mortem deep searches to report: Rhyfelwyr and Warmaster Horus.”

    “Horus was just an innocent townie caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. Rhyfelwyr is a lot harder to figure. He did, apparently, have a criminal background and was probably a wiseguy. However, our sources indicate he was working to protect some of the other members on the committee.”

    “I’d say we’d obviously done the wrong thing here if I hadn’t come across some other unusual evidence. Rhyfelwyr was found to be in possession of 8 different false passports, a microfilm camera, union organizing materials for 6 different trade unions and a rather cryptic thank you note, laminated, which had been signed by someone named ‘Lavrenti.’ Obviously, we’re looking into that further.”

    “Good luck with your deliberations.”

    As Commissioner Fermanagh left the room, the new Director began discussing procedures for the upcoming lynch vote. Another day had dawned.



    OOC

    Voting will conclude at 1400 Monday 7 September Eastern (1800 GMT). Sorry for the slow turn around, but I am still sicker than a puppy and need my sleep.



    The Cost of Life in Fatlington:

    Attacked: Beefy187 (n1, n6), DJGingivtis (n2), GSC (n2), Beskar (n3), Double A (n3), Lord Winter (n3, n5), Andres (n4, n9), Diana Abnoba (n4), Reenk Roink (n4), Iskander3.1 (n5), Proletariat (n5, n5, n7, n7), TinCow (n6), Shinseikhaan (n7), Centurion1 (n8), Sasaki Kojiro (n8, n9), Moros (n9), Pannonian (n9), Sigurd (n9)

    Killed: Quintus.JC (n1), The Stranger (n1), Death is Yonder (n2), pevergreen (n2), Yaropolk (n2), Myrddraal (n3), Jolt (n4), Craterus (n5), johnhughthom (n5), Leet Erickson (n5), Psychonaut (n5), Iskander3.1 (n6), Khazaar (n6), Kommodus (n6), scottishranger (n6), Aggonyduck (n8), Beskar (n8), Cultured Drizzt Fan (n8), glyphz (n8), shlin28 (n8), Diana Abnoba (n9), DisgruntledGoat (n9)

    Lynched: Factionheir (d2), CountArach (d3), GeneralHankerchief (d3), discovery1 (d4), atheotes (d5), A Very Super Market (d6), Kagemusha (d6), Rhyfelwher (d7), Ironside (d8), DJGingivtis (d9),

    Wogged: Nole4694 (n5), Truepraetorian (n5), Dutch_guy (n6), Warmaster Horus (n7)
    "The only way that has ever been discovered to have a lot of people cooperate together voluntarily is through the free market. And that's why it's so essential to preserving individual freedom.” -- Milton Friedman

    "The urge to save humanity is almost always a false front for the urge to rule." -- H. L. Mencken

  2. #32
    Praefectus Fabrum Senior Member Anime BlackJack Champion, Flash Poker Champion, Word Up Champion, Shape Game Champion, Snake Shooter Champion, Fishwater Challenge Champion, Rocket Racer MX Champion, Jukebox Hero Champion, My House Is Bigger Than Your House Champion, Funky Pong Champion, Cutie Quake Champion, Fling The Cow Champion, Tiger Punch Champion, Virus Champion, Solitaire Champion, Worm Race Champion, Rope Walker Champion, Penguin Pass Champion, Skate Park Champion, Watch Out Champion, Lawn Pac Champion, Weapons Of Mass Destruction Champion, Skate Boarder Champion, Lane Bowling Champion, Bugz Champion, Makai Grand Prix 2 Champion, White Van Man Champion, Parachute Panic Champion, BlackJack Champion, Stans Ski Jumping Champion, Smaugs Treasure Champion, Sofa Longjump Champion Seamus Fermanagh's Avatar
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    Default Re: Capo di Tutti Capi - III (Summaries and Notices)

    Lyrics generator, come up with your own tune.


    Sunset, Day Ten

    The evening meeting had seemed to drag on forever. Lord Winter picked up a few voices calling for his death but then someone claimed they'd heard from Fermanagh that Rabbit's story didn't mesh up. When they finally got through to Fermanagh -- down at O'Shaughnessy's for "medicinal" purposes -- he completely denied the earlier tip he'd provided.

    Then discussion had flared back to Winter, even though a few voices were calling for the death of former Director Roink. Roink's response -- checking on his cuticles and deciding on a manicure before swinging by the club -- may have seemed arrogant, but didn't convince others of his guilt. How could anyone remain so calm?

    Finally, the tally had been made with Director slashandburn departing, as had now become traditional, just before the final tally. When all was done, 13 votes had been lodged against Lord Winter, more than double the votes placed against Crazed Rabbit.

    Winter was handed a business card, also now traditional, and escorted to a taxi waiting to carry him to club 30. The driver was separated from the back by a steel cage molded to the back of the front seat. It did not look good. Winter was nervous, and the nerves only worsened when it became obvious that the taxi was headed for the piers rather than bayside near the club.

    Lord Winter was terrified when the taxi finally stopped on the pier. He immediately tried to get out but his door wouldnt open. He tried to roll down the window to no avail. Some kind of heavy bolting system had locked the doors soundly and the windows were thickly reinforced glass. There would be no escape.

    There was a heavy clank on the roof of the cab. Winter gasped, but then it got quiet. The driver exited the cab, only to be replaced by Director slashandburn. The Director placed a wind-up victrola in the front passener seat and then worked a small metal box attached to a metal covered cable through the cage toward Lord Winter. The box had one largish red button on it, with the legend 'make it stop!' neatly lettered onto the button.

    Director slashandburn started the victrola and then exited the cab, locking it as he went. Almost immediately the cab, now suspended cran attached to the hook-up point on the roof, was swung up and out over the harbor.

    Seconds later, the record moved off the silent prequel and a single violinist began to play "Flight of the Bumblebee." Unfortunately for Lord Winter, the soloist was Jack Benny. It started off painfully, growing in volume and power -- a festival of aural anguish. At the third repetition, Winter began to sob, the pain almost unbearable. There was nothing sharp with which to puncture his eardrums, no way to escape the horror.

    After the 10th repetition, a quartet of cub scouts playing the bagpipes joined in playing a counterpoint as the volume of Mr. Benny' s violin lead was enhanced.

    Winter hesitated no longer, and pushed the button, dumping the car into the frigid harbor. He knew his death was imminent, but he did not scream or cry...at least the victrola shorted out first and for one brief crystal moment he was treated to the indescribable joy of simple silence. When he was fished out an hour later, there was still a sigh of relief etched onto his features.


    OOC

    Night Orders for N10 please. Due no later than 2300 on Wednesday 9/9/9.

    Side note, I wonder who in the .org will post at 0909 9/9/9 GMT and win the balloon?


    Vote Tally:

    1st, Lord Winter = 13 (Andres, askthepizzaguy, Beefy187, Chaotix, Joooray, LittleGrizzly, Sigurd, spL1tp3rsonality, SSNeoperestroika, Tratorix, White_eyes:D, woad&fangs, YLC)

    2nd, Crazed Rabbit = 5 (DoubleA, Kukrikhan, Moros, Reenk Roink, TinCow)

    3rd, Reenk Roink = 3 (Centurion1, Crazed Rabbit, Lord Winter)

    4th/5th, Beefy187 = 1 (Sasaki Kojiro)

    4th/5th, Moros = 1 (a completely inoffensive name)
    "The only way that has ever been discovered to have a lot of people cooperate together voluntarily is through the free market. And that's why it's so essential to preserving individual freedom.” -- Milton Friedman

    "The urge to save humanity is almost always a false front for the urge to rule." -- H. L. Mencken

  3. #33
    Praefectus Fabrum Senior Member Anime BlackJack Champion, Flash Poker Champion, Word Up Champion, Shape Game Champion, Snake Shooter Champion, Fishwater Challenge Champion, Rocket Racer MX Champion, Jukebox Hero Champion, My House Is Bigger Than Your House Champion, Funky Pong Champion, Cutie Quake Champion, Fling The Cow Champion, Tiger Punch Champion, Virus Champion, Solitaire Champion, Worm Race Champion, Rope Walker Champion, Penguin Pass Champion, Skate Park Champion, Watch Out Champion, Lawn Pac Champion, Weapons Of Mass Destruction Champion, Skate Boarder Champion, Lane Bowling Champion, Bugz Champion, Makai Grand Prix 2 Champion, White Van Man Champion, Parachute Panic Champion, BlackJack Champion, Stans Ski Jumping Champion, Smaugs Treasure Champion, Sofa Longjump Champion Seamus Fermanagh's Avatar
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    Default Re: Capo di Tutti Capi - III (Summaries and Notices)

    Something unexpected
    Something so new
    Something so crazy
    Crazy like you
    I mean, I knew you had a reputation
    (Of flirtation)
    And I knew you had a messed up mind
    But, you went and did it this time

    -- “Ton of Bricks” by Deborah Gibson


    Summary of Events, Night Ten


    Sasaki Kojiro felt a little “distant” of late. For all the cliques and shifting thoughts during the committee session, he’d been a lone voice crying in the wilderness. He found himself walking towards Bayside, a bit distracted, when he began to slow and, within a few steps come to a complete stop.

    Suspended from the row homes between which Sasaki had stopped were a half dozen fire hoses, set at varying levels. Behind him, Sasaki then heard the gurgle of water as two tanker trucks suddenly started to dump liquid onto the intersection behind him. A dark figure in a glossy black trench coate materialized on the third floor roof down the block ahead.


    “And as he walks down the road, FIRE RAINS FROM THE SKY!”

    The dark figure began hurling bottles into the air as the fire hoses began to play in “mist” mode, instantly generating a drizzle throughout the block Sasaki faced. As the bottles began to fall, they were intercepted by the even faster flashes of the silvery kunai as they dropped. Each bottle shattered into the misting water and water became flame.

    Sasaki ducked low and ran forward…there was no other way to go. As he hurled himself forward, his hat flipped up off his head and was caught in the maelstrom. The searing heat roasted the back of his armored duster, but after a few brief moments, Sasaki had made good his escape. Once more singed, but essentially unhurt.

    Others could not say the same.
    Skooma Addict and Greyblades had run towards Sasaki just before things began, wondering what was going on and if they could help. There was no ‘safe route’ for them. Both of them were burned badly in the conflagration as misting water turned to roiling fire. Neither lasted long enough for the ambulance teams to arrive.


    Crazed Rabbit was sitting quietly at a small table at the “Angler’s Dangle,” a somewhat rickety bar perched near the end of the North Point fishing pier. He had a sketch pad out and was making shaded drawings of the night fishermen out at the end of the pier, silhouetted against the moonlit Atlantic. He also had what was left of a quintuple Dewars mellowing over a couple of rocks in the bottom of a tall glass. Rabbit picked up the last finger of scotch and shot it back – he’d ceased drinking for taste about half a glass back.

    Three figures stepped out of the dark and up to the bar area on the pier. The bar wasn’t really walled, just roofed with a little half-wall, but the three Tommy guns these attackers brought up and level probably would’ve chewed through anything Eddy Angler might have used to create his bar.

    Rabbit took several rounds to the body as he tried to drop below cover, stung despite the armor he wore beneath his coat. Round after round chased him back to the edge of the pier. With no choice, Rabbit slid under the metal railing at the side of the pier and dropped down to the netting below the Angler’s Dangle. The thick beams of the pier would protect him from the shooters above, so he worked his way away from the edge, dangling from the netting.

    He would have been an easy mark for any shooter positioned on the beach or at the bulkhead where the pier joined the shoreline – but nobody was there to take the shot. With sirens blaring, Rabbit heard the shooters retreat to safety. After a few moments, he made his way painfully back onto the pier. For the first time ever, Eddy bought CR a drink on the house.



    Sasaki Kojiro, bedraggled and scorched, made his way through Bayside in something of a daze. He didn’t even know quite what street he was on, only that he was heading back toward Atlantic Avenue. Without knowing quite how he’d gotten there, he found himself in front of Club30.

    “Come in, come in, don’t be bashful,” said the masked figure in the impeccable cream white suit and car coat.

    Sasaki froze, but the genteel white figure managed to half-shove, half-guide him through the side door of the club anyway – the side door leading to an extra men’s room in a side hall just off the main floor. Kojiro felt himself being prodded forward, a sense of unreality pervading him. Just before he reached the door, he had the simplest of mishaps. A scorched shoelace had parted, and the other lace and the half burned knot on his right shoe slipped under his foot, tripping him to the floor.


    Reenk Roink tripped over the fallen Kojiro, spun backwards and pushed backwards through the men’s room door while trying to stop his motion. Without an accomplice, he’d had to rush things a bit too much.

    “Oh, bother,” said Reenk as he finally stopped himself, “this will put a real crimp in my…” A thick metal stake, spring-loaded to greet the first through the door, transfixed Reenk Roink at about solar plexus level with a sickeningly ‘meaty’ thump. “….my barney mugging.”

    Sasaki got slowly to his feet, stunned and horrified at the spectacle before him. Despite the blood pouring from the barbed stake rammed through his body, despite dangling – half paralyzed -- from the stake he’d planted as a trap for another, Reenk was calmly adjusting his tie. Reenk looked at Kojiro with his usual knowing grin.

    “I can kill you whenever I want….but not tonight.”

    Reenk Roink bled out before Sasaki could make his way back onto the street. Not 10 seconds after leaving the club’s side door, Sasaki heard the gentle rumble of a perfectly tuned Triumph motorcycle. Twilightblade came to a stop at curbside, next to a bewildered and incredulous Sasaki.

    “Enjoy my little show?” Said Twilightblade, smiling. “How about a lift to the Abbatoir bar for a drink?”

    Sasaki’s face flickered between rage and disgust, but finally settled on acceptance. Not sure why – aside from a desire for something 30 years old and named Glen Morangie – he was doing it, Sasaki got on the cycle, careful to avoid ‘Blades ashenderei.

    “Here’s a new hat for you,” said ‘Blade, gently placing a beanie with rotor on Sasaki’s lightly singed hair. “Let’s be off.”

    The trip to the Hotel Abbatoir was uneventful.


    Moros knew the three figures spelled trouble the moment he saw them. He was out of his chair at the café, moving forward and already drawing his gun when their Tommy guns came up. Both sides started shooting and scoring hits.

    Moros was wounded lightly in both arms and had taken several rounds to the body armor he always wore now. He’d been driven to the kitchen door of the café by the trio’s fire. All three of his attackers had taken hits, two of them having their guns shot from their hands and the third taking a slug in his own body armor.

    There was a strange pause, almost as if the attackers expected something to happen to Moros from another direction. From behind him, however, nothing came at Moros except the gentle heat of a café kitchen. Instead, the unexpected happened from behind Moros’ attackers.

    A single figure stepped up behind the only attacker who still had his Tommy gun, slamming him at the base of the skull with a powerful karate chop, leaving him stunned on the floor. This figure leveled a gun at Moros, shooting once and planting a feathered dart at the base of his neck. Moros fumbled as he finished reloading his gun, dropping it to the floor. The two remaining attackers came after the newcomer.


    “I’m sick of these interruptions,” the masked newcomer shouted. He grabbed each of his would be attackers as they came at him, cracked their heads together, and then threw each of them one-handed to opposite sides of the room. Moros passed out.

    He awakened spread-eagled on a bed, his four limbs chained to the corner posts and his body strapped to the mattress with thick leather straps. He felt awake, but strangely numb – almost as if paralyzed.


    “Shall we begin then?” asked the ‘newcomer’ as he removed his mask.

    Moros tried to shout at his captor, but his half numbed tongue could only moan…or scream.

    His smiling captor tightened the tourniquets placed high on each of Moros’ limbs, taking special care to cinch them very well. He raised the Kopis sword, and began to work. Moros lasted longer than any of the others.

    In the morning they found his arms, legs and head carefully arranged to form the number five. His remains had been placed on the main entryway of the Public Library. The torso was never recovered.



    Morning Session, Day Eleven

    “Anyway, as near as we can piece things together, that’s what happened.”

    Fermanagh turned to the next pages of his notes.

    “In regards to the results on Aggonyduck,, Beskar, Cultured Drizzt Fan, glyphz , shlin28, and Ironside.”

    “CDT was one of our protection specialists – a doctor – and his death represents a loss for all of us. Ducky, shlin, and glyphz were all townies. We have no indications at all, other then the failed attack by shlin, that any of these folks were involved with efforts to harm the town. The same can also be said of Beskar, though he was known to be a wiseguy with a criminal record before coming to Fatlington a year ago.”

    “Despite these losses, Ironside’s lynching was indeed a success. He has been identified as a mafia luca. Keep up the pressure folks, we’re doing well.”

    Director slashandburn reviewed the voting and selection procedures before concluding the morning session.


    OOC

    Voting for lynch and selection of Director for days 12 and 13. From here on out, I will have to wog more readily. If you aren’t contacting me or posting here, expect to be immolated.

    Voting and Selection Deadline is 2300 Eastern 9/10/9 (0300 GMT 9/11/9).

    Results out by Noon Eastern on the 10th.



    The Cost of Life in Fatlington:

    Attacked: Beefy187 (n1, n6), DJGingivtis (n2), GSC (n2), Beskar (n3), Double A (n3), Lord Winter (n3, n5), Andres (n4, n9), Diana Abnoba (n4), Reenk Roink (n4), Iskander3.1 (n5), Proletariat (n5, n5, n7, n7), TinCow (n6), Shinseikhaan (n7), Centurion1 (n8), Sasaki Kojiro (n8, n9, n10, n10), Moros (n9, n10), Pannonian (n9), Sigurd (n9)

    Killed: Quintus.JC (n1), The Stranger (n1), Death is Yonder (n2), pevergreen (n2), Yaropolk (n2), Myrddraal (n3), Jolt (n4), Craterus (n5), johnhughthom (n5), Leet Erickson (n5), Psychonaut (n5), Iskander3.1 (n6), Khazaar (n6), Kommodus (n6), scottishranger (n6), Aggonyduck (n8), Beskar (n8), Cultured Drizzt Fan (n8), glyphz (n8), shlin28 (n8), Diana Abnoba (n9), DisgruntledGoat (n9), Moros (n10), Reenk Roink (n10)

    Lynched: Factionheir (d2), CountArach (d3), GeneralHankerchief (d3), discovery1 (d4), atheotes (d5), A Very Super Market (d6), Kagemusha (d6), Rhyfelwher (d7), Ironside (d8), DJGingivtis (d9), Lord Winter (d10)

    Wogged: Nole4694 (n5), Truepraetorian (n5), Dutch_guy (n6), Warmaster Horus (n7), Greyblades (n10), Skooma Addict (n10)
    "The only way that has ever been discovered to have a lot of people cooperate together voluntarily is through the free market. And that's why it's so essential to preserving individual freedom.” -- Milton Friedman

    "The urge to save humanity is almost always a false front for the urge to rule." -- H. L. Mencken

  4. #34
    Praefectus Fabrum Senior Member Anime BlackJack Champion, Flash Poker Champion, Word Up Champion, Shape Game Champion, Snake Shooter Champion, Fishwater Challenge Champion, Rocket Racer MX Champion, Jukebox Hero Champion, My House Is Bigger Than Your House Champion, Funky Pong Champion, Cutie Quake Champion, Fling The Cow Champion, Tiger Punch Champion, Virus Champion, Solitaire Champion, Worm Race Champion, Rope Walker Champion, Penguin Pass Champion, Skate Park Champion, Watch Out Champion, Lawn Pac Champion, Weapons Of Mass Destruction Champion, Skate Boarder Champion, Lane Bowling Champion, Bugz Champion, Makai Grand Prix 2 Champion, White Van Man Champion, Parachute Panic Champion, BlackJack Champion, Stans Ski Jumping Champion, Smaugs Treasure Champion, Sofa Longjump Champion Seamus Fermanagh's Avatar
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    Default Re: Capo di Tutti Capi - III (Summaries and Notices)

    Hello darkness my old friend
    I've come to talk with you again
    Because a vision softly creeping
    Left it's seed while I was sleeping
    And the vision that was planted in my brain
    Still remains
    Within the sound of silence

    -- Paul Simon "Sound of Silence"


    Evening Session, Day Eleven


    Discussion at the session had been laconic at best. Though nearly 40 people remained on the committee's roster, only a very few spoke, and fewer than half voted. Nobody even bothered to toss chits into the Director ballot box until the session had nearly ended. Just before the final tally, slashandburn cast his own selection for Director and exited the Convention Center.

    The tally did not take long. Beefy187 had been chosen by a wide margin. He walked forward with a slow and measured pace to accept the business card for Club30, peered briefly at the travel directions printed on the back, and then turned to face the committee.


    "In Hiroshima....the eternal carp; golden....ever triumphant."

    The committee stared at Beefy, askthepizzaguy rapidly making numbers and calculations on a pad, not quite sure what to make of his comment. Beefy simply sniffed in mild disapproval and walked purposefully from the Center towards Bayside and Club30.

    As he crossed Atlantic Avenue -- strangely empty of traffic -- he heard the whine of a diving aircraft. Director slashandburn nosed the f-82b into a shallow strafing run, lighting up the machine guns as he lined up on Beefy. Ma Deuce executed the sentence of the committee.

    Another night had begun in Fatlington. Would it be as quiet as the day?




    OOC

    Orders for n11 are due by 2200 Eastern on 9/11/9 (that's 0200 on the 12th gmt).

    My prayers for the families of those slain on 9-11-1.



    Tallies:

    Lynch


    1st Beefy187 = 10 (Andres, Centurion1, Crazed Rabbit, Joooray, Sasaki Kojiro, spL1tp3rsonality, TinCow, Twilightblade, woad&fangs, YLC)

    2nd Ichigo = 4 (askthepizzaguy, LittleGrizzly, SSNeoperestroika, Tratorix)

    3rd abstain = 1 (chaotix)


    Selection


    1st slashandburn = 3 (Centurion1, LittleGrizzly, slashandburn)

    2nd askthepizzaguy = 2 (Jooray, spL1tp3rsonality)
    "The only way that has ever been discovered to have a lot of people cooperate together voluntarily is through the free market. And that's why it's so essential to preserving individual freedom.” -- Milton Friedman

    "The urge to save humanity is almost always a false front for the urge to rule." -- H. L. Mencken

  5. #35
    Praefectus Fabrum Senior Member Anime BlackJack Champion, Flash Poker Champion, Word Up Champion, Shape Game Champion, Snake Shooter Champion, Fishwater Challenge Champion, Rocket Racer MX Champion, Jukebox Hero Champion, My House Is Bigger Than Your House Champion, Funky Pong Champion, Cutie Quake Champion, Fling The Cow Champion, Tiger Punch Champion, Virus Champion, Solitaire Champion, Worm Race Champion, Rope Walker Champion, Penguin Pass Champion, Skate Park Champion, Watch Out Champion, Lawn Pac Champion, Weapons Of Mass Destruction Champion, Skate Boarder Champion, Lane Bowling Champion, Bugz Champion, Makai Grand Prix 2 Champion, White Van Man Champion, Parachute Panic Champion, BlackJack Champion, Stans Ski Jumping Champion, Smaugs Treasure Champion, Sofa Longjump Champion Seamus Fermanagh's Avatar
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    Default Re: Capo di Tutti Capi - III (Summaries and Notices)

    Keep your eyes open and prick up your ears ---
    rehearse your loudest cry.
    There's folk out there who would do you harm
    so I'll sing you no lullaby.
    There's a lock on the window; there's a chain on the door:
    a big dog in the hall.
    But there's dragons and beasties out there in the night
    to snatch you if you fall.

    So come out fighting with your rattle in hand.
    Thrust and parry. Light
    a match to catch the devil's eye. Bring
    a cross of fire to the fight.

    And let no sleep bring false relief
    from the tension of the fray.
    Come wake the dead with the scream of life.
    Do battle with ghosts at play.

     Ian Anderson “No Lullaby”


    Summary of Events, Night Eleven


    Andres had left quickly after the meeting, heading out into a dark and windy February night to catch a jitney – picked at random – and head down-island to his newly rented bungalow.

    Normally, the bungalows in that little neighborhood weren’t rented before May, but Andres was facing a personal housing crisis. He’d barely walked the first of three blocks from the Jitney stop when he saw a huge gout of flame shoot up in the sky a few blocks further toward the beach. He trotted forward a few steps and then slowed to a stop. There was no doubt now as to which bungalow had just been immolated. Heading further to try and collect what few miserable belongings remained to him would have been a pointless gesture.

    He looked around himself and gulped slowly. There swirled on the ground were tendrils of glittering gold powder interlaced with rivulets of a whitish silver powder as well. He looked to either side, noting the patterns repeated on the ground and cars all around him. He started to edge backwards, hoping that Twilightblade would be too busy at the house to have seen him. No such luck. From behind him whirled a pair of kunai, slivers of silver in the dimly lit night. Each struck a carefully placed handle and began the spraying of strategically placed fire hoses perched on the roofs of the largely vacant bungalows amid which Andres had stopped.

    The water flashed the gold powder into flame, creating a strangely liquid splash of fire that leapt up and consumed everything around Andres. The silvery powder ignited into a painfully bright flare as the magnesium burned brightening everything beyond the brightest of August afternoons. Andres collapsed as the blast of heat struck him, wincing from the brightness of the burning light – so bright that closing his eyes wasn’t enough until his hands had covered them. After 30-40 seconds of intense heat and flames, the conflagration died back – settling to only a few slower burning bushes and the burning interior of a convertible 20 yards off.

    Twilightblade strode up to the huddled Andres, gleaming in his black leather trench coat and eyes protected by thick sunglasses. His ashenderei had a thick porterhouse skewered on the end of the blade, the steak now singed to a gentle medium rare. He pulled off a small bite and ate it with obvious pleasure.


    “I’ll miss Beefy,” said ‘Blade. His gloved pinkie reached under his sunglasses as though brushing away a gentle tear from the corner of his eye. “But one does have to…go on.”

    ’Blade strolled gently toward his Triumph, parked a few blocks clear of things, occasionally pausing to bring a bit of steak closer so that he could continue his snack. It would probably be days before Andres’ eyes stopped seeing after-images along with whatever he was looking at, but it didn’t stop him from heading back uptown for a Duvel…or six.


    Stray thoughts pop into your head at the oddest times. askthepizzaguy’s first thought was that the rabbit really looked like crap. It might have been a better idea to skip to the second thought – <> – but the rabbit really was in sad shape.

    Hair matted with dried blood and gore on the legs, arms blackened with powder residue and missing tufts of fur all over, the rabbit suit was pretty dinged up. The headpiece was the worst with most of the fur missing from the left side of the head and the left ear torn and hastily repaired with duct tape. The wearer had even drilled a hole through the huge toothy smile of the mask, from which a cigarette now dangled. This was all accessorized with a pair of cracked sunglasses crammed down over the bulging rabbit eyes of the suit.

    The rabbit cut loose with both barrels. Time, from Pizza’s perspective, did that curious dilation it seems to do in instances of crisis. Pizza’s rapidly cycling brain went from considering the sartorial problems of rabbit to a rapid evaluation of his chances. He was standing at his table, which therefore provided little cover, the retizina he’d acquired a taste for was slowing his reactions just a touch, his heavily armored coat was still on the back of the chair, and the plate glass windows of the taberna would not create much of an impediment. He was toast.

    But when the shot impacted the glass, the glass won. Starred and cracked though it was, both blasts had been absorbed by glass that was apparently bullet-proofed. <> Pizza didn’t pause too long, making his way to the back door in a hurry. He paused at the threshold, stunned to hear firing from the alleyway to his right.


    “Move it pizzaguy,” called an indistinct voice from the right. “I don’t have enough ammo to keep the other pinned for too much longer.”

    Sometimes you just have to trust. Pizza sprinted out of the door and down the alley to his right, shouting a quick “thanks” to the faceless man on the fire escape above him. Pizza did not stop running until he was well clear of trouble. The second shooter only got off one shot at the fleeing askthepizzaguy, just as he was turning the corner and exiting the alley. Fired a split second late, the shotgun blase never touched pizza, but Cowhead418 took several pellets in the head and neck, bleeding out before ambulance crews could reach him.


    Kukrikhan was sitting at the bar in the tappy, hoisting a few brews with a couple of brothers-in-arms – he did not talk about Anzio with those who wouldn’t…who couldn’t understand—when a masked man leaned through the door and shot him in the shoulder.

    Surprised by the fact that it was some kind of dart gun and that it barely stuck into his coat, Kukri didn’t do more than get to his feet by the time the man had retreated. Then, because he’d had a few too many beers in memory of those who hadn’t gotten past Anzio, he managed to trip over his own feet and sit down – crisscross style – while managing against all the odds to NOT spill the rest of his beer.

    Luck was with him in more than just keeping his suds safe, as he quickly discovered. Moving through the spaces where his head and chest should have been were a pair of thirty-ought-six rounds. The first shattered the bar mirror, while the second blew
    Veronica Toluso's pretty face all over the face and upper body of the fellow she'd been busily seducing at a table on the far side of the tappy from Kukri and company. Windows on either wall of the bar had been smashed as the rounds entered, but they didn’t mask the whine of high velocity rounds to the ears of that particular crowd. The sound of sniper fire was not one to be forgotten by either Kukrikhan or his mates. Within seconds, everybody at the taproom was low on the ground and behind hard cover and every light bulb had been smashed or switched off. There would be no additional chance for the snipers…this evening.

    Oddly enough, when he got around to looking at it, Kukri noted that the dart had a little note attached which read ‘and the mome-wraths outgrabe.’ That called for a whisky as well as another beer...at home behind well locked doors.



    Ichigo [I]was almost back to his apartment when the trashcans came hurtling down at his car from the roofs of the buildings above. One missed outright but caused him to swerve, while the second landed on the roof over his back seat. The greatest damage was when he couldn’t regain control quickly enough and slammed into the Studebaker he usually parked next to.
    It rapidly got worse as two Tommy gunners opened up on him, one from either side of the vehicle. The armoring held, but the car was quickly a mangled wreck and it was almost impossible to see out of the windows. Ichigo never saw the satchel charges, only hearing the dull thumps from the roof and from the hood. Once they blew, he never heard anything again.


    Andres was just putting down the glass, having finished only seconds before the 6th of his Duvels – the bartender always stocked them just for him – when the man in the car coat walked over to the table.

    “Tough night?”

    “’Blade is driving me crazy,” said Andres, still blinking from the annoying after images. “It’s not like I don’t have other things to keep me busy these days – as you well know.”

    “You should take a break, maybe go on vacation.”

    Without telegraphing the movement at all, the man in the car coat brought ought his .28 Beretta and rapidly shot Andres twice in the left eye. Andres was dead before the crisp taste of the Duvel could even fade away. The bartender, working alone this late, stood stunned where he had been cleaning tables only a few feet away. A second pair of bullets removed the witness. The shooter gently placed a violin bow on the table where Andres’ head now rested and walked quietly from the bar.


    Morning Session, Day Twelve


    “It was not our worst night, folks, but I don’t think our troubles are ended.”

    Fermanagh shifted through his notes.

    “The most recent after-death investigations are mixed in their results, but ultimately reveal what I would call a very positive trend.”

    “Diana Abnoba was an honest townie, working to protect us even as she died. On the other hand, DisgruntledGoat’s death at the hands of vigilantes – not that I approve of such things mind you – was a huge success as he was one of the mafia Dons threatening Fatlington. In addition, your lynch choice was another good one.”

    “DJGingivtis was also a Don! You’ve dispatched two of those evil slime and another has been killed by vigilantes. We’re on our way to crushing this menace.”

    Fermanagh was all smiles and positive nods as he made his way to the door. Director slashandburn smiled as well while reviewing the voting and procedures they would use later. This day seemed brighter for Fatlington than had many a previous one.



    OOC

    Lynch voting will conclude at 1000 Eastern on Monday the 14th. From there on we will cycle in 24 hour segments pretty reliably – barring whackiness of the unforeseen kind.


    The Fate of the Fatlings


    Attacked (31): Beefy187 (n1, n6), DJGingivtis (n2), Gaius Scribonius Curio (n2), Beskar (n3), Double A (n3), Lord Winter (n3, n5), Andres (n4, n9, n11), Diana Abnoba (n4), Reenk Roink (n4), Iskander3.1 (n5), Proletariat (n5, n5, n7, n7), TinCow (n6), Shinseikhaan (n7), Centurion1 (n8), Sasaki Kojiro (n8, n9, n10, n10), Moros (n9, n10), Pannonian (n9), Sigurd (n9), askthepizzaguy (n11), Kukrikhan (n11)

    Killed (26): Quintus.JC (n1), The Stranger (n1), Death is Yonder (n2), pevergreen (n2), Yaropolk (n2), Myrddraal (n3), Jolt (n4), Craterus (n5), johnhughthom (n5), Leet Erickson (n5), Psychonaut (n5), Iskander3.1 (n6), Khazaar (n6), Kommodus (n6), scottishranger (n6), Aggonyduck (n8), Beskar (n8), Cultured Drizzt Fan (n8), glyphz (n8), shlin28 (n8), Diana Abnoba (n9), DisgruntledGoat (n9), Moros (n10), Reenk Roink (n10), Andres (n11), Ichigo (n11)

    Lynched (12): Factionheir (d2), CountArach (d3), GeneralHankerchief (d3), discovery1 (d4), atheotes (d5), A Very Super Market (d6), Kagemusha (d6), Rhyfelwher (d7), Ironside (d8), DJGingivtis (d9), Lord Winter (d10), Beefy187 (d11),

    Wogged (9): Nole4694 (n5), Truepraetorian (n5), Dutch_guy (n6), Warmaster Horus (n7), Greyblades (n10), Skooma Addict (n10), Cowhead418 (n11), Gaius Scribonius Curio (n11), Veronica "Trouble" Toluso (n11)

    Still Alive (30): a completely inoffensive name, askthepizzaguy, Caius, Centurion1, Chaotix, Crazed Rabbit, DoubleA, El Diablo, gibsonsg91921, Haudegen, Joe Monks, Joooray, Kukrikhan, LittleGrizzly, Pannonian, Proletariat, Ricera10, Sasaki Kojiro, Shinseikhaan, Sigurd, slashandburn, spL1tp3r50naL1ty, SSNeoperestroika, TinCow, Tratorix, Twilightblade, White_Eyes:D, woad&fangs, XehhII, YLC.
    "The only way that has ever been discovered to have a lot of people cooperate together voluntarily is through the free market. And that's why it's so essential to preserving individual freedom.” -- Milton Friedman

    "The urge to save humanity is almost always a false front for the urge to rule." -- H. L. Mencken

  6. #36
    Praefectus Fabrum Senior Member Anime BlackJack Champion, Flash Poker Champion, Word Up Champion, Shape Game Champion, Snake Shooter Champion, Fishwater Challenge Champion, Rocket Racer MX Champion, Jukebox Hero Champion, My House Is Bigger Than Your House Champion, Funky Pong Champion, Cutie Quake Champion, Fling The Cow Champion, Tiger Punch Champion, Virus Champion, Solitaire Champion, Worm Race Champion, Rope Walker Champion, Penguin Pass Champion, Skate Park Champion, Watch Out Champion, Lawn Pac Champion, Weapons Of Mass Destruction Champion, Skate Boarder Champion, Lane Bowling Champion, Bugz Champion, Makai Grand Prix 2 Champion, White Van Man Champion, Parachute Panic Champion, BlackJack Champion, Stans Ski Jumping Champion, Smaugs Treasure Champion, Sofa Longjump Champion Seamus Fermanagh's Avatar
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    Default Re: Capo di Tutti Capi - III (Summaries and Notices)

    ...pull you close
    Feel your love
    Then I push you away from me
    Protect myself
    I’m not safe when my boundaries are violated
    And its kill or die
    So I choose me
    Over you

    A.D.D. is my excuse
    With my excuse I shot you down
    I know I’ve got to change
    But I can never work out how

    How can I say I’m sorry when I know I’ll do it again
    Do it again
    I know what I did but I still don’t know the reason
    I wanna say I’m sorry but I know I’ll do it again
    I’ll do it again
    I’ll do it to you
    I don’t wanna hurt you anymore

    Lash out in anger
    Hit the wrong target
    My little sister
    No matter what I say
    I love you so much I cannot leave
    But when family gets too close
    I always find it hard to beathe

    -- Daniel Bedingfield "Sorry"



    Summary of Events, Night Twelve


    Pannonian had been distant and withdrawn for days, almost completely uncommunicative in the meetings. He walked home alone when the meetings drew to a close, always stopping for a quick bite at some restaraunt or cafe, but never the same one twice in a row.

    After finishing tonight's meal, he'd returned to the sidewalk for the last couple of blocks walk when it happened. A masked face, sheltered under a broad fedora, stepped out of an alley in front of him holding an old style 'western' revolver with an incredibly long barrel. Pannonian jumped to the side, putting a telephone pole between him and the revolver as partial cover and turning rapidly around to face what he guessed would be the second threat.

    He' guessed correctly. In front of him, startled into near immobility, was a masked man holding a long black umbrella as though it were some form of sword. The tip was sharp, almost needle like, and something glistened on the tip of the umbrella. Pannonian went for his gun, but not before the first attacker fired his Buntline Special.

    The heavy soft-lead slug took Pannonian high in the left arm, mushrooming outwards as it splintered the bone and spraying blood from the wound. The impact also staggered Pannonian forward, whereupon the umbrella man jabbed the point into Pannonian's upper leg.

    Pannonian got off two shots despite the poison coursing through his system, though neither hit as he was unable to stop the shaking and had diffficulty focusing. He never fired a third shot because the Buntline slammed a second round into the middle of his back. Armored or not, the impact put him on the ground and the poison ensured that he would never get back up. Did the neurotoxin kill him or did he bleed out from the pumping arterial wound in his upper arm. All in all, for Pannonian, the question was rather academic.



    El Diablo was only a few steps from home and the quiet evening he had planned. A six-pack of beers from the tappy, along with the cheeseburger and fries (just beginning to grease through the brown bag in which he was carrying them) would take care of sustenance and he was one of the few with a television in his neighborhood.

    The two Tommy gunners stepped out of his front door and onto his stoop, shattering his quiet reverie with long bursts of automatic fire. The beers dropped and smashed, along with the burger, as he quickly dove to the side, rolling towards the alley between his brownstone and the next.

    It was his only obvious route of escape, and even as El Diablo ran up the alley he expected to encounter more gunfire. It would be hard to know whether the first two shooters or El Diablo were the most surprised when he failed to run into any obstacle at all, making a clean escape from the scene.



    spL1Tp3r50nality sat at the counter of the cafe, stirring yet another cube of sugar into his already sweetened tea. Though it wasn't raining, the night felt raw and he enjoyed the warmth of the sweet beverage. The counterman came over.

    "Something to eat?"

    Before he could respond to the counterman, a quick double sound came from just behind spL1t's ear. The counterman tumbled like a marionette with it's strings cut. Spl1T spun quickly on his stool. As he completed the turn, only to find himself staring into the muzzle of a small caliber Baretta, a heavy shot crashed out from the door to the storeroom.

    This bullet missed Split's would-be executioner, but managed to clip the hammer of the small pistol as the killer moved the gun level to fire, rendering it inoperable. Two further shots slammed into the masked shooter, knocking him towards the door but failing to penetrate his armor or take him off his feet. Rather than continue a gunfight unarmed, the would-be executioner let himself stumble through the door and headed straight out into the night.

    Split never got a good look at his savior, but had an interesting story to relate to Fermanagh's micks when they showed up in due course. A decent sort, spL1Tp3r50nality paid for his coffee before leaving.



    LittleGrizzly Huddled in the sand, tucked low and tight against the wooden stairs leading down from the boardwalk onto the sands. Bullets zinged off the metal railing of the stairs or thudded into the sand nearby. Whoever the shooters were, they had some talent, so despite using Tommy guns they were doing a pretty good job of keeping him pinnned. Griz' did manage a few shots back with his pistol, but was certain he hadn't done more than make them duck...and he could only make one of them duck at a time. If they'd had a 4th shooter on the beach, he would already have been dead.

    In between the quick, disciplined bursts that kept him pinned, LittleGrizzly heard a dull thud. The volume of fire grew less. A few moments later, he heard a brief scream, followed by the sight of a body being pitched over the railing of the boardwalk and out onto the sands. The body didn't move. Now the firing was even less, and it didn't seem to be directed at him. Griz thought he saw a quickl flash of something coppery in the light on the boardwalk, and then everything grew quiet. Slowly, he stood, just in time to see someone walk to the top of the steps.


    "You okay," asked the man at the top of the stairs.

    "Yeah," said LittleGrizzly, "I never expected to owe you my life, but thanks."

    "You're welcome," said the man, as he shot LittleGrizzly with a tranquilizer dart. Griz looked up, incredulous and woozy, the drug already starting to rob him of consciousness.

    "So, LittleGrizzly," said the stranger with a satisfied smile. "What's your favorite number?"

    They found LittleGrizzzly's arms, legs, and head the next morning, sitting on the steps to a police precinct-house, carefully arranged to form the number five.


    Morning Session, Day Thirteen


    "...so anyway, that's how things wrapped up, at least to the best of our knowledge."

    Fermanagh looked out at the dwindled committee. It was a sight he'd seen before, and feared he was doomed to see again. He turned back to his notes.

    "As to the deceased: Moros was a a wiseguy and known small-time criminal. We had no indication however, that he was working with the mafia. Reenk Roink was an innocent townie, and other for his last attempt on Sasaki, is only known to have killed at the bidding of this committee as it's Director. These losses clearly did not help the town."

    "On the positive side, we've been able to confirm the success of our lynching efforts. Lord Winter, according to our sources, was a made gangster in one of the crime families we're facing. His death has brought us one step closer to our success."

    Fermanagh quietly left the podium, turning things over to slashandburn who reviewed the lynch procedures and reminded the committee that it was time to select a new Director as well.



    OOC

    Lynch voting will conclude at 1200 Eastern on Wednesday the 16th. You are also voting to select a Director for days 14 & 15.



    The Fate of the Fatlings


    Attacked (34): Beefy187 (n1, n6), DJGingivtis (n2), Gaius Scribonius Curio (n2), Beskar (n3), Double A (n3), Lord Winter (n3, n5), Andres (n4, n9, n11), Diana Abnoba (n4), Reenk Roink (n4), Iskander3.1 (n5), Proletariat (n5, n5, n7, n7), TinCow (n6), Shinseikhaan (n7), Centurion1 (n8), Sasaki Kojiro (n8, n9, n10, n10), Moros (n9, n10), Pannonian (n9), Sigurd (n9), askthepizzaguy (n11), Kukrikhan (n11), El Diablo (n12), LittleGrizzly (n12), spL1Tp3r50nality (n12)

    Killed (26): Quintus.JC (n1), The Stranger (n1), Death is Yonder (n2), pevergreen (n2), Yaropolk (n2), Myrddraal (n3), Jolt (n4), Craterus (n5), johnhughthom (n5), Leet Erickson (n5), Psychonaut (n5), Iskander3.1 (n6), Khazaar (n6), Kommodus (n6), scottishranger (n6), Aggonyduck (n8), Beskar (n8), Cultured Drizzt Fan (n8), glyphz (n8), shlin28 (n8), Diana Abnoba (n9), DisgruntledGoat (n9), Moros (n10), Reenk Roink (n10), Andres (n11), Ichigo (n11), LittleGrizzly (n12), Pannonian (n12)

    Lynched (12): Factionheir (d2), CountArach (d3), GeneralHankerchief (d3), discovery1 (d4), atheotes (d5), A Very Super Market (d6), Kagemusha (d6), Rhyfelwher (d7), Ironside (d8), DJGingivtis (d9), Lord Winter (d10), Beefy187 (d11), Centurion1 (d12),

    Wogged (9): Nole4694 (n5), Truepraetorian (n5), Dutch_guy (n6), Warmaster Horus (n7), Greyblades (n10), Skooma Addict (n10), Cowhead418 (n11), Gaius Scribonius Curio (n11), Veronica "Trouble" Toluso (n11)

    Still Alive (27): a completely inoffensive name, askthepizzaguy, Caius, Chaotix, Crazed Rabbit, DoubleA, El Diablo, gibsonsg91921, Haudegen, Joe Monks, Joooray, Kukrikhan, Proletariat, Ricera10, Sasaki Kojiro, Shinseikhaan, Sigurd, slashandburn, spL1tp3r50naL1ty, SSNeoperestroika, TinCow, Tratorix, Twilightblade, White_Eyes:D, woad&fangs, Xehh II, YLC.
    "The only way that has ever been discovered to have a lot of people cooperate together voluntarily is through the free market. And that's why it's so essential to preserving individual freedom.” -- Milton Friedman

    "The urge to save humanity is almost always a false front for the urge to rule." -- H. L. Mencken

  7. #37
    Praefectus Fabrum Senior Member Anime BlackJack Champion, Flash Poker Champion, Word Up Champion, Shape Game Champion, Snake Shooter Champion, Fishwater Challenge Champion, Rocket Racer MX Champion, Jukebox Hero Champion, My House Is Bigger Than Your House Champion, Funky Pong Champion, Cutie Quake Champion, Fling The Cow Champion, Tiger Punch Champion, Virus Champion, Solitaire Champion, Worm Race Champion, Rope Walker Champion, Penguin Pass Champion, Skate Park Champion, Watch Out Champion, Lawn Pac Champion, Weapons Of Mass Destruction Champion, Skate Boarder Champion, Lane Bowling Champion, Bugz Champion, Makai Grand Prix 2 Champion, White Van Man Champion, Parachute Panic Champion, BlackJack Champion, Stans Ski Jumping Champion, Smaugs Treasure Champion, Sofa Longjump Champion Seamus Fermanagh's Avatar
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    Default Re: Capo di Tutti Capi - III (Summaries and Notices)

    Everybody tries to put me down
    They try to make me drown
    And everybody has a reason to kill me
    They've got the art of murder down to a tee

    There will never be an end for me
    Why can't you see?

    That I'm...
    Hard to Kill
    I always was...
    Hard to Kill
    I'll always be...
    Hard to Kill
    Hard to Kill
    Hard to Kill
    Yeah

    And I know the end will never be near
    I'm always gonna be here
    You may work and try to end what I've done
    But I have already won

    --Bat Dude (lyrics available at killermovies.com forum)



    Summary of Events, Night Thirteen


    Sasaki Kojiro was walking along Atlantic towards the Abbatoir, collar turned up to deal with the wind from the Northeast. It would bring a Nor'Easter in a day or two, but for now it was bitingly dry and more than a little chilly. It was then that he noticed the wet sidewalk and puddles at his feet...on an otherwise dry evening. A glance up near the third story revealed bottles suspended over the sidewalk, faintly gold in the dim light.

    Sasaki did not hesitate, but kicked it into high gear and ran. He covered the next block rapidly, happily on dry pavement, and then turned off and slowed down once he reached Seaside Park. He caught his breath, walking carefully on the paths and keeping clear of the darker areas underneath the pines. As he neared the fountain at the center of the park, all of the sprinklers went off, drenching everything nearby with a gentle mist that hung in the chilly air. <> The answer that leapt to mind was not pleasant, and a quick look near the fountain seemed to reveal large glass bottles perched on the edge.

    Sasaki left the park at a run, making for the boardwalk and skipping a trip to the Abbatoir's hotel bar in favor of getting home as quick as he could. It had been years since Sasaki had run this hard, but sometimes you just wanted a little distance as quick as you could manage it.



    Chaotix was taking things much more slowly. He'd enjoyed a good steak at Felix's and then began the brief walk home. The street was wide and well lit, and there were plenty of people around. He had on his vest and his "equalizer" was in his pocket. All-in-all, he was as ready as a Fatling could be.

    He was still surprised when the masked figure stepped out the front door of the shop maybe 40 feet away, leveling the long barrel of a Buntline special in his direction. The shop had been closed for hours, nobody should have been there at all. Chaotix ducked backwards quickly, spinning to check if there were any other threats. There was only a man with an umbrella.

    That's when things got interesting. The first attacker had squeezed off one round from the Buntline, which hammered into the mailbox Chaotix had spun behind. He was pinned there, with the umbrella man slowly advancing. Chaotix went for his piece.

    At about that same moment, a length of weighted fishing line snapped down from the window of the apartment above the store, the lead weight crashing into the Buntline Special, knocking it from the shooter's grasp. In the street itself, a pckup truck with two occupants pulled up just behind the umbrella man. On the back of the pickup, the second masked occupant was operating a huge Hollywood style wind machine. The instant gale from the immense fan snatched up the umbrella, tearing it out of the umbrella wielder's grasp and leaving him facing Chaotix unarmed and unsupported.

    Chaotix fired, striking the umbrella man in the midsection and driving him back. The man grunted, but did not fall, turning and smashing through a storefront window to get out of the line of fire. The first attacker dove for his Buntline, grabbing it while rolling, and continued his roll into the alley. Suddenly the odds didn't look so good. Both attackers made their escape, as did the rescuers. In seconds, Chaotix found himself alone in the street. Shakily, he made his way to the nearest precinct house to report the incident.


    Sasaki was almost home now, just coming up on his new bungalow in North Oceanside, opposite Greek Town. He reached the walkway to his door...and stopped. Running through the seam at the bottom of the front door was a thin rivulet of water, adding slowly to the puddle on the front stoop. Sasaki was off and running again.

    This time, he didn't stop until he'd stiff-armed his way through the revolving doors of the Hotel Abbatoir and made a sharp right turn, striding into the hotel bar.


    "Welcome, Mister Kojiro," said the cocktail waitress. "You're expected. Please follow me."

    Sasaki was stunned. After a brief pause he decided he might as well get it over with, and followed the waitress. Normally, following her would have been a pleasant distraction -- Sasaki never ceased being amazed at how many directions women could move at the same time -- but tonight he was a little worried. She led him to a table whereupon a tumbler of scotch already sat, waiting.

    Also waiting was
    Twilightblade, [I]leaning casually against the back wall of the bar, his gleaming leather trench coat glimmering in the dim but friendly light. One hand held the huge polesword of which he was so inordinately fond.

    "Hello, Kojiro," said 'Blade with a grin. "Have a drink or three on me."

    He dropped a twenty on the table, tipped his hat, and walked from the bar. As he walked away, there were a quick series of three gouts of flame accompanied by small explosions. Sasaki was grimly certain that they came from spots on Atlantic Avenue, the Seaside Park fountain....and a little bungalow North of here. He paid serious attention to his drinking.

    As he brought the fourth tumbler of scotch to his lips, a kunai flashed through the door to the bar shattering the glass onto his table. A second blade flashed into the semi-darkness above him, severing a small bottle of golden powder. This smashed on the wet table and caused an instant eruption of flame.

    Sasaki fell backwards from the explosion, singed a bit but unharmed aside from the lump on the back of his head from where he'd hit the floor. His hat, however, was no more. He'd left the fedora sitting on the table....



    Ricera10 moved warily along the street. Things were quiet, but there was nobody in sight. He still moved cautiously, checking potential threat points and scanning the rooflines. It didn't help.

    The sniper was 435 yards away, quite invisible to Ricera10 at that distance. Courtesy of the Springfield '03's scope, however, the sniper had an excellent view of Ricera. A single shot slammed into Ricera's left knee, dropping him to the pavement and crippling him. A few instants later, the second shot took the long-barreled Buntline Special right out of Ricera10's hands, amputating his index finger into the bargain.

    Cursing and in pain, Ricera10 rolled to put a car between himself and the direction of the shots. That's when he saw the rabbit. Gore spattered and gruesome despite the inane plastic smile, and holding a double-barreled shottie. The rabbit looked down at him, pulling a long puff on the dangling cigarette.


    "What's up Doc?"

    The rabbit then pulled both triggers, the double slugs taking Ricera10's head almost clean off. He quietly pulled an object from the pack on his back, dropping the violin bow on the corpse.

    "B'dah-b'dah-b'dah -- that's all folks," said the rabbit as he faded into the dark Fatlington night.


    With caution and a little planning,woad&fangs had made it safely back to his apartment. Checking the 'tells' he'd left on the door, he made his way inside. Locking up, he quickly tossed off a 'night-cap' and got ready for bed.

    As he began to drift off to sleep, he got a sudden wake-up call. Tommy guns are not, after all, the subtle way to get into an apartment. Dozens of rounds tore the door to fragments, knocking it off its hinges, while woad&fangs shot off his bed and went to the wall of his bedroom door.

    He'd spent time re-making the interior walls with bricks -- they'd hold off anything short of a bazooka. His bedroom door was trashed quickly, but woad&fangs was now armed and ready to greet whoever came through the door.

    Nobody did. Instead, a couple of bulky chemical grenades came through. 'Willy-Pete' was a coloquial name that was all too gentle for labeling the white phosphorus weapons that they were. The intense heat and smoke were stifling and the few flakes of phosphorous that landed on woad&fangs seemed to be burning through his tee-shirt like granular fire. The pain was intense.

    He couldn't have stayed longer than he did, the heat and pain were too intense and the smoke was already choking the upper half of the room. Three steps was as far as woad&fangs got, however, as all 5 attackers hammered him with their Tommy guns as he tried to break clear of the bedroom. He was riddled as badly as Clyde Barrow and died almost immediately.

    The shooters left the apartment to burn.



    Joe Monks snapped awake, feeling a sting in his leg. He was someplace strange. <>

    "Wakey, wakey!"

    A smiling face loomed into his vision. Monks couldn't seem to move, feeling groggy.

    "Math quiz time," said the smiling face. "What is the sum of 2, 2, and 1?"

    Still perplexed, not quite understanding things, Joe mouthed the word "five" as though it were a question. He saw the man's smile grow wider...and then he began to understand.

    "That's right, Joe! You're reading me five by five...."

    The next morning Joe Monk's limbs and head would be found on the steps to Fermanagh's home, artfully arranged to form the number 'five.' The torso was never recovered.


    Morning Session, Day Fourteen


    "So anyway, that's what we think happened, based on the evidence. Mildred's been admitted to Mercy for observation, which is where I'll be heading after this..."

    Fermanagh was obviously flustered, but continued on with his notes.

    "Your lynching efforts weren't successful on Day Eleven. Beefy187 was an innocent townie who our sources say spent most of his time protecting slashandburn with various other townies. He is rumored to have participated in the killing of DisgruntledGoat, but as Goat was a mafia Don, it can hardly be credited against him. I think we all made a bad mistake there."

    "Greyblades and Andres are both thought to have been Wiseguys, but we have no indication that either was working with the mafia and at least some indication that Andres was involved in what were believed to be vigilante actions on the part of Fatlington."

    Fermanagh continued down his list.

    "Skooma Addict, Cowhead418, and Gaius Scribonius Curio were all townies, with no indication that any were involved in criminal actions against the town."

    "To our good fortune, however, we can take some comfort that Ichigo and Veronica "Trouble" Tuloso were killed that night as well. Both were, according to our research efforts, mafiosi. Tuloso was reputed to be a Made Gangster -- so much for the 'gentler sex' -- while Ichigo was a mafia Luca. Their deaths bring us one step closer to victory."

    Fermanagh left the room quickly, headed for Mercy Hospital and Mildred. Shinseikhaan reviewed the procedures for the upcoming lynch vote and dismissed the committee.



    OOC

    Lynch votes are due no later than 1200 Eastern on Friday the 17th.



    The Fate of the Fatlings

    Attacked (36): Beefy187 (n1, n6), DJGingivtis (n2), Gaius Scribonius Curio (n2), Beskar (n3), Double A (n3), Lord Winter (n3, n5), Andres (n4, n9, n11), Diana Abnoba (n4), Reenk Roink (n4), Iskander3.1 (n5), Proletariat (n5, n5, n7, n7), TinCow (n6), Shinseikhaan (n7), Centurion1 (n8), Sasaki Kojiro (n8, n9, n10, n10, n13), Moros (n9, n10), Pannonian (n9), Sigurd (n9), askthepizzaguy (n11), Kukrikhan (n11), El Diablo (n12), LittleGrizzly (n12), spL1Tp3r50nality (n12), Chaotix (n13)

    Killed (29): Quintus.JC (n1), The Stranger (n1), Death is Yonder (n2), pevergreen (n2), Yaropolk (n2), Myrddraal (n3), Jolt (n4), Craterus (n5), johnhughthom (n5), Leet Erickson (n5), Psychonaut (n5), Iskander3.1 (n6), Khazaar (n6), Kommodus (n6), scottishranger (n6), Aggonyduck (n8), Beskar (n8), Cultured Drizzt Fan (n8), glyphz (n8), shlin28 (n8), Diana Abnoba (n9), DisgruntledGoat (n9), Moros (n10), Reenk Roink (n10), Andres (n11), Ichigo (n11), LittleGrizzly (n12), Pannonian (n12), Joe Monks (n13), Ricera10 (n13), woad&fangs (n13)

    Lynched (13): Factionheir (d2), CountArach (d3), GeneralHankerchief (d3), discovery1 (d4), atheotes (d5), A Very Super Market (d6), Kagemusha (d6), Rhyfelwher (d7), Ironside (d8), DJGingivtis (d9), Lord Winter (d10), Beefy187 (d11), Centurion1 (d12), El Diablo (d13)

    Wogged (9): Nole4694 (n5), Truepraetorian (n5), Dutch_guy (n6), Warmaster Horus (n7), Greyblades (n10), Skooma Addict (n10), Cowhead418 (n11), Gaius Scribonius Curio (n11), Veronica "Trouble" Toluso (n11)

    Still Alive (23): a completely inoffensive name, askthepizzaguy, Caius, Chaotix, Crazed Rabbit, DoubleA, gibsonsg91921, Haudegen, Joooray, Kukrikhan, Proletariat, Sasaki Kojiro, Shinseikhaan, Sigurd, slashandburn, spL1tp3r50naL1ty, SSNeoperestroika, TinCow, Tratorix, Twilightblade, White_Eyes:D, Xehh II, YLC.
    "The only way that has ever been discovered to have a lot of people cooperate together voluntarily is through the free market. And that's why it's so essential to preserving individual freedom.” -- Milton Friedman

    "The urge to save humanity is almost always a false front for the urge to rule." -- H. L. Mencken

  8. #38
    Praefectus Fabrum Senior Member Anime BlackJack Champion, Flash Poker Champion, Word Up Champion, Shape Game Champion, Snake Shooter Champion, Fishwater Challenge Champion, Rocket Racer MX Champion, Jukebox Hero Champion, My House Is Bigger Than Your House Champion, Funky Pong Champion, Cutie Quake Champion, Fling The Cow Champion, Tiger Punch Champion, Virus Champion, Solitaire Champion, Worm Race Champion, Rope Walker Champion, Penguin Pass Champion, Skate Park Champion, Watch Out Champion, Lawn Pac Champion, Weapons Of Mass Destruction Champion, Skate Boarder Champion, Lane Bowling Champion, Bugz Champion, Makai Grand Prix 2 Champion, White Van Man Champion, Parachute Panic Champion, BlackJack Champion, Stans Ski Jumping Champion, Smaugs Treasure Champion, Sofa Longjump Champion Seamus Fermanagh's Avatar
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    Default Re: Capo di Tutti Capi - III (Summaries and Notices)

    Yeah by get down well you rock and roll
    then you roll and rock
    then you got to do it
    because i don't wanna stop
    yes i'm the db breaker,
    the heart-taker
    com'n fly guy
    let's turn it up home boys,
    pretty girls you don't stop
    cause i'm jovanotti
    gonna make you rock
    baby baby gonna show you my stuff
    i'm gonna tell you the way
    to hit the top
    hae-you can do it
    hou-will you do it
    hae-you can do it
    let me know wot do ya want
    up up up now now now
    com'n you can get it gimme five
    (clap clap clap)

    -- Jovanotti "Gimme Five"


    Sunset, Day Fourteen


    Shinseikhaan did not leave the room at the last break before the final tallies. Instead, he sat there calmly, stoic in his absence of emotion, as the argument swirled and the discussion shifted. Finally, based on a shouted discussion between Pizzaguy and Xehh II, the votes were re-cast and the time for more changes had elapsed. Shinseikhaan waited as the guards brought him the final tally.

    "Xehh II," intoned 'khaan, "The committee judges you guilty of crimes against Fatlington and hereby orders your death. Guards, sieze him."

    Xehh II did not stay still for it, instead, as the guards moved forward, he rushed at them! The first guard took a stiff right to the face and went down like he'd been hit with an axe handle, his shattered nose spraying blood all over. The second was tripped and kicked so rapidly that he found himself rolling into empty folding chairs wondering why he wasn't standing.

    The remaining officers switched over to their night sticks. Xehh still fought, trying to kick, hit or rush each of the officers in turn, but their clubs gave them the edge in range. Each savage attack was hammered back and though the officers did take hits, none of them were caught flat-footed like the first two. Slowly, inexorably, they cornered Xehh, who could barely lift his arms from all the bruising.

    Though his struggles continued, the result was already known. Eventually, the officers hammered him down and then cuffed him for good measure. At 'khaan's direction, Xehh II was taken to a large wooden crate that had been laid on the sands just below the boardwalk.

    Xehh was placed in the box and his arms and legs shackled to the corners. A metual tube, designed to rest on four spindly legs, was placed over his nose and mouth. The officers then began to shovel sand into the box. They continued to shovel sand until Xehh was covered by more than a foot of it, only the metal breathing tube protruding. They then lined the sand with a thick layer of charcoal mixed with kindling. Then the officers and Shinseikhaan went under the boardwalk and put on military issue flame throwers that they'd borrowed from the armory, all five moving to positions on the boardwalk where they could flame the box.

    The heat was intense, igniting the charcoal and kindling in a massive conflagration and even coating some of the sand with thin layers of glass. The intense fire managed to consume most of the oxygen in its midst, slowly taking away the very air Xehh II needed to breathe to survive. As the worst pains of suffocation hit him, Xehh inhaled as hard as he could...only to be rewarded with superheated air that scorched his lungs and damaged his ability to breathe. Lungs seared and starved of oxygen, Xehh II took almost 10 minutes to die, but the fire was hot for hours.


    "'Khaan did a pretty fair with the pyrotechnics," said Twilightblade as he watched the flames.

    "Yeah," said Proletariat, also watching, "But Reenk would've set up a clam-bake as well."



    OOC

    Orders for Night 14 are due at 1400 on Sunday. Please PM me any questions as to role changes etc. no later than mid-day Saturday so that they can all be resolved prior to final orders going in. Thanks.



    Tally


    1st Xehh II = 9 (askthepizzaguy, Chaotix, Crazed Rabbit, Joooray, Sasaki Kojiro, Sigurd, slashandburn, Tratorix, YLC)

    2nd/3rd Crazed Rabbit = 2 (SSNeoperestroika, Xehh II)

    2nd/3rd Haudegen = 2 (Kukrikhan, White_eyes:D)

    4th/5th Shinseikhaan = 1 (spL1tp3r50naL1ty)

    4th/5th Twilightblade = 1 (a completely inoffensive name)
    "The only way that has ever been discovered to have a lot of people cooperate together voluntarily is through the free market. And that's why it's so essential to preserving individual freedom.” -- Milton Friedman

    "The urge to save humanity is almost always a false front for the urge to rule." -- H. L. Mencken

  9. #39
    Praefectus Fabrum Senior Member Anime BlackJack Champion, Flash Poker Champion, Word Up Champion, Shape Game Champion, Snake Shooter Champion, Fishwater Challenge Champion, Rocket Racer MX Champion, Jukebox Hero Champion, My House Is Bigger Than Your House Champion, Funky Pong Champion, Cutie Quake Champion, Fling The Cow Champion, Tiger Punch Champion, Virus Champion, Solitaire Champion, Worm Race Champion, Rope Walker Champion, Penguin Pass Champion, Skate Park Champion, Watch Out Champion, Lawn Pac Champion, Weapons Of Mass Destruction Champion, Skate Boarder Champion, Lane Bowling Champion, Bugz Champion, Makai Grand Prix 2 Champion, White Van Man Champion, Parachute Panic Champion, BlackJack Champion, Stans Ski Jumping Champion, Smaugs Treasure Champion, Sofa Longjump Champion Seamus Fermanagh's Avatar
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    Default Re: Capo di Tutti Capi - III (Summaries and Notices)

    You shed a shadow on my life
    Shed a shadow on a love
    Took the shelter out of my life
    Took the shelter of a lie
    I couldn't see it in your restless eyes
    The truth I was hiding
    The truth you could not disguise

    But I never thought I'd see the day
    I knew I'd need a miracle to make you stay
    I knew
    I needed
    A miracle
    And I never thought I'd see the day

    -- Sade “Never thought I’d see the day.”

    Summary of Events, Night Fourteen


    As he made his way home, a completely inoffensive name kept his head down and his mind on his grumblings. <> He didn’t notice that the sidewalk had been modified since he last walked this way, or that he was now more or less suspended over a 30’-wide strip of water. He DID notice the kunai that flashed in front of his eyes.

    He jumped back and drew his weapon in one motion. The second kunai whirled from the figure just stepping out from behind a parked van 40 feet distant, and with a metallic clang it knocked the gun from his grasp, spinning it into the water. Twilightblade walked up to a completely, stopping about 7 feet away. His glossy leather coat and hat gleamed in the dim light.


    “You have offended me, sir,” said ‘Blade.

    “What do you…”

    “Your name is so inoffensive that I can ONLY be offended by it. We must now dance.”

    Two kunai whirled out, thrown by ‘blade with both hands. They smashed glass bottles on either side, ringing the pair were filled with leaping flames. Small explosions broke the pavement behind each man. They now faced each other on a 4’ by 12’ island in the midst of a sea of flame. ‘Blade reached across his back and drew the ahenderei he so loved. With his other hand he drew a sword, a great kopis blade, tossing it handle first to a completely inoffensive name.

    “You might be familiar with such a blade. Let’s dance!”

    The two men traded blows in a flurry of steel. ‘Blade’s reach advantage was significant, but ACIN’s blade was heavier and his motivation made up for much of his lack of skill. Still, the conclusion had been foregone from the start. After a few minutes of fighting, the butt end of the ashenderei whipped out and disarmed a completely inoffensive name, sending his kopis after his pistol.

    "You have fought well and honorably,” said Twilightblade. “I shall tell you how avoid getting burned by my powder.”

    ACIN leaned forward slightly, interested despite his frustration.

    “Wear fireproof clothing.”

    Twilightblade did a backflip off the platform, diving through the flames without a murmer – he had followed his own advice – quickly emerging on the far side of the flames. A completely inoffensive name waited for the flames to die down, listening to the purr of the well-tuned Triumph as it roared off into the night.


    Chaotix, despite his name, was fairly precise in his actions. With things in Fatlington trending the way they were, it was prudent to be aware of one’s surroundings. When the masked fellow with the large umbrella stepped around the corner ahead of him, he quickly leapt to the side and put his back to the door of the closed shop. He was not going to let anyone get behind him.

    He noted the second figure, the one who had been shadowing him and prepared to cut loose with the Tommy gun the moment he focused on Mr Umbrella, and went for his gun. While prepared, it seemed unlikely he’d be able to stop one attack without falling to the other.

    Chaotix then fell backwards into the store. Instantly, the door slammed behind him, a bar lock falling in place and an armored trench coat was thrown over him. He never got a good look at the people who’d done all of these things so quickly…but he was quite glad they had. His two attackers did not try to press their luck.



    [B]Crazed Rabbit[B] sat at his table, sketch pad in hand. He was thinking of a huge mural that would hang for a hundred feet along the length of the pier, so his mind was full of ideas and concepts, each one almost leaping onto the paper. What he lacked was a single unifying theme.

    Perhaps he might consider the three trench-coated Tommy gunners who were moving up the pier towards him as he sat at the bar at the Angler’s Dangle? But no, they were more of an interruption.

    Still, they didn’t interrupt him for very long. The trio had just pulled back the bolts on their Tommies when they heard the clanging and banging of metal on wood. Someone had cut loose a stack of 18” gauge steel piping that now rolled down at them along the angled ramp leading back down to the bulkhead from the pier. Instead of firing at CR, they found themselves diving into the sand and refuse at the side of the pier.

    Nor would their fourth shooter – the one guarding the bottom of the pier to close off Rabbit’s escape – be of any assistance. From somewhere near the end of the pier, a hidden sniper started putting bullets into the bulkhead nearby. Given current circumstances, the better part of valor clearly seemed to be discretion. The attack squad beat a hasty retreat.



    The same concept, discretion, also appealed to SSNeoperestroika. When the first shooter opened up at him with a Garand carbine from across the street, he dropped behind a car and then did a low crawl towards the alley between the Five-and-dime and the taproom. He’d gotten a good look at his shooter – no mask and the hat had flipped off from the recoil of the carbine. But would he have a chance to confront him later?

    You see, unfortunately for SSNeo, that alley was really his only means of escape from the first shooter – and easily turned into a trap by the simple expediency of having one shooter step out of the back door to the tappy. Fortunately for SSNeo, nobody did. He was able to make his escape. Tomorrow, he and
    Chaotix would have words.


    Morning Meeting, Day Fifteen


    “So anyway, maybe not a quiet not exactly, but nobody ended up dead.”

    Fermanagh shifted his notes.

    “Our success in lynching mafiosi seems to be continuing. Centurion1, according to our sources, was a Made gangster in one of the crime families. You are to be congratulated for using Tosa’s system so effectively.

    “Efforts at taking the law into your own hands independently however, haven’t met with the same success. Pannonian was one of my hidden detectives. His loss hurts us all.”

    Fermanagh stared at askthepizzaguy for several seconds.

    “Surprisingly enough, it may be that the maniac killer with his sick love for the number five may have done us the most good of all, at least this time. LittleGrizzly was a Mafia Don and the head of one of the five crime families. We must make sure his killer is brought to justice – in the interest of our own safety – but in this case he helped Fatlington out.”

    Fermanagh left the room. Shinseikhaan quickly reviewed the procedures for the lynch vote and for the selection process. The committee then adjourned, knowing that this afternoon’s session would prove…interesting.



    OOC

    Lynch Voting and Director Selection should be completed by 1500 Eastern on Monday the 21st (1900 GMT). Results etc. should be in your hands before long.


    The Fate of the Fatlings

    Attacked (41): Beefy187 (n1, n6), DJGingivtis (n2), Gaius Scribonius Curio (n2), Beskar (n3), Double A (n3), Lord Winter (n3, n5), Andres (n4, n9, n11), Diana Abnoba (n4), Reenk Roink (n4), Iskander3.1 (n5), Proletariat (n5, n5, n7, n7), TinCow (n6), Shinseikhaan (n7), Centurion1 (n8), Sasaki Kojiro (n8, n9, n10, n10, n13), Moros (n9, n10), Pannonian (n9), Sigurd (n9), Crazed Rabbit (n10, n14) askthepizzaguy (n11), Kukrikhan (n11), El Diablo (n12), LittleGrizzly (n12), spL1Tp3r50nality (n12), Chaotix (n13, n14), a completely inoffensive name (n14), SSNeoperestroika (n14)

    Killed (29): Quintus.JC (n1), The Stranger (n1), Death is Yonder (n2), pevergreen (n2), Yaropolk (n2), Myrddraal (n3), Jolt (n4), Craterus (n5), johnhughthom (n5), Leet Erickson (n5), Psychonaut (n5), Iskander3.1 (n6), Khazaar (n6), Kommodus (n6), scottishranger (n6), Aggonyduck (n8), Beskar (n8), Cultured Drizzt Fan (n8), glyphz (n8), shlin28 (n8), Diana Abnoba (n9), DisgruntledGoat (n9), Moros (n10), Reenk Roink (n10), Andres (n11), Ichigo (n11), LittleGrizzly (n12), Pannonian (n12), Joe Monks (n13), Ricera10 (n13), woad&fangs (n13)

    Lynched (13): Factionheir (d2), CountArach (d3), GeneralHankerchief (d3), discovery1 (d4), atheotes (d5), A Very Super Market (d6), Kagemusha (d6), Rhyfelwher (d7), Ironside (d8), DJGingivtis (d9), Lord Winter (d10), Beefy187 (d11), Centurion1 (d12), El Diablo (d13), Xehh II (d14)

    Wogged (9): Nole4694 (n5), Truepraetorian (n5), Dutch_guy (n6), Warmaster Horus (n7), Greyblades (n10), Skooma Addict (n10), Cowhead418 (n11), Gaius Scribonius Curio (n11), Veronica "Trouble" Toluso (n11)

    Still Alive (22): a completely inoffensive name, askthepizzaguy, Caius, Chaotix, Crazed Rabbit, DoubleA, gibsonsg91921, Haudegen, Joooray, Kukrikhan, Proletariat, Sasaki Kojiro, Shinseikhaan, Sigurd, slashandburn, spL1tp3r50naL1ty, SSNeoperestroika, TinCow, Tratorix, Twilightblade, White_Eyes:D, YLC.
    "The only way that has ever been discovered to have a lot of people cooperate together voluntarily is through the free market. And that's why it's so essential to preserving individual freedom.” -- Milton Friedman

    "The urge to save humanity is almost always a false front for the urge to rule." -- H. L. Mencken

  10. #40
    Praefectus Fabrum Senior Member Anime BlackJack Champion, Flash Poker Champion, Word Up Champion, Shape Game Champion, Snake Shooter Champion, Fishwater Challenge Champion, Rocket Racer MX Champion, Jukebox Hero Champion, My House Is Bigger Than Your House Champion, Funky Pong Champion, Cutie Quake Champion, Fling The Cow Champion, Tiger Punch Champion, Virus Champion, Solitaire Champion, Worm Race Champion, Rope Walker Champion, Penguin Pass Champion, Skate Park Champion, Watch Out Champion, Lawn Pac Champion, Weapons Of Mass Destruction Champion, Skate Boarder Champion, Lane Bowling Champion, Bugz Champion, Makai Grand Prix 2 Champion, White Van Man Champion, Parachute Panic Champion, BlackJack Champion, Stans Ski Jumping Champion, Smaugs Treasure Champion, Sofa Longjump Champion Seamus Fermanagh's Avatar
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    Default Re: Capo di Tutti Capi - III (Summaries and Notices)

    Evening Session, Day Fifteen

    Shinseikhaan idled away as the people of Fatlington discussed with vigor down to the very end. He seemed entirely fascinated with his ability to cast a shadow of what appeared to be a dog with his hands, as though it were some kind of phantom upon the ground. He was snapped somewhat out of his mindless absence when one of his guards pounded a gavel upon a desk, indicating that time had lapsed. Finally turning to the conversation at hand, 'khaan found that there was a tie, between Crazed Rabbit and Sasaki Kojiro.

    'Khaan frowned slightly, then tilted his head. Something wasn't quite right. Oh, yes. That was it.
    As he peered around the crowd, he could not find Crazed Rabbit anywhere in sight. As the guards rounded up Sasaki, 'Khaan turned to Commissioner Fermanagh and whispered in his ear, querying as to where the Crazed one would likely be. Fermanagh paused a second, then his eyes lit up. He whispered back into the ear of 'Khaan, who nodded. 'Khaan jumped up from his post, and proclaimed to all of Fatlington to follow him.

    With 'Khaan and Commissioner Fermanagh took the lead, followed by the guards who were detaining Sasaki, with the rest of Fatlington following behind. The group took the path leading to the Angler's Dangle. Sure enough, as they arrived, eyes squinting to use the last fading rays of the sunset, Crazed Rabbit lay sitting on the edge of the dock. He had a brush in hand, and was staring intently at a nearly completed mural on the side of the dock. The artwork, even in the dim lights coming down from the pier onto the long canvas, was quite beautiful. The group closed in behind, and despite the accusations brought upon him, all had to admit that they were envious of the man's artistic ability. The colors were sharp, clear, and bold. CR had heard the people behind him, but ignored them for the time being, as he contemplated his last few brush strokes. The group, wishing to see the final product, silently agreed to give him his chance to complete the mural. Finally, after several minutes, CR put the final details into place, the luscious red lips on a portrait of the new starlet, Marilyn Monroe. The group gave a muted round of applause. CR finally turned, a sobered look on his face, and two of 'khaan's guards apprehended him without struggle.


    “Sasaki Kojiro, Crazed Rabbit. The two of you have been deemed by the people of Fatlington to be dangerous threats!” Khaan declared. “However, as they could not agree upon which of you was the greater threat, it has been left to me to decide your fates. I have made my decision, though I did not like it."

    'Khaan paused for a moment, then finally shook his head.

    “The two of you will be sentenced to death,” 'Khaan proclaimed in a somewhat distasteful voice. “I feel it is my duty to uphold the will of Fatlington, and it was made abundantly clear that they fear you both as murderers. However... I still rather like the both of you. And so, I have decided to make your deaths as pleasant as possible. Indeed, I have even gone into my own expense book for the both of you.”

    Sasaki and Crazed Rabbit both raised an eyebrow at the director. What sort of execution required the director to spend much of their own money?

    'Khaan whispered to one of his guards, then motioned for the rest to get going. The guards brought a large table and two chairs out to the pier, while 'Khaan quickly jaunted to his house before returning with a large sack. Sasaki and CR were both strapped into the chairs by their wastes, leaving their hands free. 'Khaan stepped before the two, with his paper bag and the entire town watching. He set the bag down, then revealed its contents. Six, 25. 4 ounce bottles of Kentucky Spirit, one hundred and one proof bourbon.

    “I hope the two of you appreciate this, it really is my favorite brand of liquor,” Khaan explained. “The two of you are to each drink three entire bottles of Kentucky Spirit, until you are deceased by alcohol poisoning.” 'Khaan nodded to one of his guards, who smashed a gavel against the wooden pier. “And with that, GO!”

    The two condemned men began drinking at an astonishing pace. The severity of the liquor barely seemed to faze either one. Astonishingly, after ten minutes, Sasaki had polished off his first bottle, with CR just behind. However, upon reaching the second bottle, the effects of the bourbon were visibly taking their toll. Both men were quite chatty for having been just condemned to death, and were swaying in their seats despite the restraints. The second bottle was taking the two longer. However, in a display of pure internal fortitude, both men finished their bottles at nearly the same time, after twenty minutes. The third bottle for each seemed to be the finishing point, however. The two were practically panting with the effort required to focus upon drinking more. CR's left hand was twitching uncontrollably for some reason, and Sasaki was beginning to convulse in his chair. However, with guns aimed at them, the two continued their brave attempts at downing the final bottles of bourbon. The third bottle was taking even longer than the previous two combined, and night had well fallen. The people of Fatlington had stayed, however, for the sight. Despite their previous death sentence just an hour ago, with the two condemned man in an insane drinking race, the townspeople began chanting and cheering “Go, Go, Go!” to their favored competitor. And so it was that the two men, both ready to fall out of their chairs if they had not been restrained, downed the last of their respective bottles.

    'Khaan and Commissioner Fermanagh were both stunned. Neither had seen such displays of manhood and fortitude. Neither were remotely surprised, then, that not fifteen seconds after polishing off the last of the bourbon, both of the condemned men face planted into the table before them, tumbling down and bringing their chairs with them in two separate heaps of drunken mess. 'Khaan sent one of the guards to check the pulse of the men. The man stood back up after getting nauseatingly close to the smell of pure liquor, and informed them that both men were, in fact, snoozing on the ground.


    “What?!” 'Khaan yelped. “What a waste of good liquor.”

    'Khaan quickly grabbed a pistol from the guard, then walked up to the collapsed men. 'Khaan turned the pistol on Sasaki, and blew three shots into the man's skull. He then turned to CR, repeating the process.

    “Dump them in the ocean,” 'Khaan told the guards. 'Khaan them stumped off grumpily, leaving Commissioner Fermanagh and the rest of Fatlington for the night.

    Fermanagh turned to the assembled committee.

    "Well, if you have to go...er...anyway. It was made known to me that I'd overlooked some of the results I've owed you. My apologies, but its been such a frazzle that they slipped my mind."

    "In part, it was sadness over obvious losses to the town. Nole4694 was one of my hidden doctors, though he never really seemed to be all that active. Truepraetorian and Dutch_guy were innocent townies. I hope that tonight's send-off brings an end to this horror."

    The commitee walked off quietly into the coming dark.


    OOC

    Night Fifteen (n15) orders due no later than 1400 Eastern tomorrow 9/22/9.


    Tallies


    Lynch Vote:

    Crazed Rabbit: 6 (ATPG, WE, Tratorix, SSNeo, ACIN, Joooray)

    Sasaki: 6 (YLC, CR, Kukri, Slash, TinCow, Split)

    ATPG: 1 (Chaotix)


    Director Selection:

    Sigurd: 9 (ATPG, SPlit, YLC, WE, Tratorix, SSNeo, Tincow, Kukri, Slash)

    Shinseikhaan: 1 (Shinseikhaan)

    Twilightblade: 1 (ACIN)
    "The only way that has ever been discovered to have a lot of people cooperate together voluntarily is through the free market. And that's why it's so essential to preserving individual freedom.” -- Milton Friedman

    "The urge to save humanity is almost always a false front for the urge to rule." -- H. L. Mencken

  11. #41
    Praefectus Fabrum Senior Member Anime BlackJack Champion, Flash Poker Champion, Word Up Champion, Shape Game Champion, Snake Shooter Champion, Fishwater Challenge Champion, Rocket Racer MX Champion, Jukebox Hero Champion, My House Is Bigger Than Your House Champion, Funky Pong Champion, Cutie Quake Champion, Fling The Cow Champion, Tiger Punch Champion, Virus Champion, Solitaire Champion, Worm Race Champion, Rope Walker Champion, Penguin Pass Champion, Skate Park Champion, Watch Out Champion, Lawn Pac Champion, Weapons Of Mass Destruction Champion, Skate Boarder Champion, Lane Bowling Champion, Bugz Champion, Makai Grand Prix 2 Champion, White Van Man Champion, Parachute Panic Champion, BlackJack Champion, Stans Ski Jumping Champion, Smaugs Treasure Champion, Sofa Longjump Champion Seamus Fermanagh's Avatar
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    Default Re: Capo di Tutti Capi - III (Summaries and Notices)

    Destroy positions of power and what stands between you and the final stretch
    Where you find out what happens in the end
    Man on the corner preaching, screaming the devil is coming!
    And the earth will plummet to the ground again
    I hope to death that no one knows and they don't find a way

    -- Flatliners “Fred’s got slacks”



    Summary of Events, Night Fifteen


    Haudegen pushed open the door to his floor of the apartment building when he saw the pair of coated figures positioned to cover the elevator. He eased the door close and went back down the stairs. That’s when he heard the footsteps coming up.

    Haudegen took off up the stairs, running as hard as he could for the roof exit atop the five floor apartment block. If he jumped hard, he could land on the somewhat lower roof of the brownstone next door and either get inside there or keep running along the roof-tops to get some distance between him and the threat.

    He hadn’t counted on the roof access door being locked. Frantically, he hammered at the door with his shoulder, hearing the running footsteps coming up the stairs below him. Finally, with a the lock gave way and he ran onto the roof. He ran for the edge, but his pursuit was through the door quickly behind him and the first attacker was firing his Tommy as he ran.

    Two shots slammed into his back, knocking him from his feet. He slid forward towards the side of the building near the back overlooking the alley. His body armor had stopped both slugs, but the slugs had stopped him.

    He stood up slowly, panting, to see a quartet of Tommy gunners leveling their weapons at him – his attackers had wasted no time in following their fastest member up the stairs. He was trapped on the edge of a five-floor drop with nothing between him and safety…aside from about 400 rounds of .45 caliber ammo.

    The gunners shot in unison, obeying some unspoken signal – clearly this was not their first effort – and a dozen rounds slammed into Haudegen in the space of a second, lifting him off his feet and over the edge.

    The odds on a truck still making deliveries at that time of night in that alley were pretty long, the odds that it would be delivering mattresses were even longer. For Haudegen, it would probably be wise to go ahead and pick a lotto number too, since it was clearly his lucky day. Not only was the truck still delivering its mattresses, but it was moving through the alley at exactly the right moment to catch his bruised and battered body in a soft embrace after falling almost five stories.

    When Haudegen woke up and climbed down from the truck four blocks later, nobody was more surprised than the two driver/movers…except Haudegen.



    Chaotix was more than a little nervous. Two successive attempts on one’s life can do that to a person. He’d decided to skip dinner and head to his row home without further ado, but with more than a little caution.

    It was a slow walk and an even slower entrance to the house. Once upstairs, his bedroom door shut and locked, he finally began to relax. That’s when the two masked figures stepped out of his closet and grabbed him. He started to struggle and shout, but a handkerchief was pushed over his face and he smelled the cloying scent of chloroform and then….

    When he woke up in the morning, Chaotix had a splitting headache but otherwise felt fine. His room was not. His window had been smashed in and some kind of struggle had occurred. His mirror was shattered and it looked as though someone had been tackled into and through his bedroom door. Chaotix didn’t know who had helped him, but he was glad they had. Otherwise, he didn’t think he’d be worrying about a headache. All in all, it was worth having to down a few aspirin.



    It was easy for Kukrikhan to assume he was lucky after surviving the attack a few nights ago. After finishing up for the night, he went back to his favorite tavern to have just one glass of suds to finish out his long day. He was about halfway through when it happened.

    A gloved hand, holding a .28 Baretta, extended through the swinging metal door to the small kitchen of the tappy. A quick pair of pops and the bartender dropped behind the bar with his medulla punctured. The shooter stepped into the room and behind the bar.

    Kukrikhan had paused, beer still raised to his lips, his other hand resting on the bar itself – no chance for any sudden moves. He lowered his glass a bit, still holding the beer, looking steadily at his murderer
    .

    Kukri sighed and continued softly, “Oh, Crud.”

    The shooter fired a second double tap, punching both slugs through Kukri’s left eye and into his brain. Kukrikhan fell backwards to the floor.

    As the shooter walked around the bar, bringing out a violin bow from some inner pocket in his long trench coat, he noticed something odd. Seemingly against all the laws of physics, Kukrikhan’s remaining beer was still in its glass and that glass was neatly perched on the center of his chest, looking for all the world like some kind lilly held in the hands of a man at his wake.

    Rather than disturb the tableau, the shooter placed the violin bow gently at Kukri’s feet, tipped his hat, and quietly left the empty bar
    .


    Roughly halfway home, just in front of The Basilica of St. Constantine in Greektown, a completely inoffensive name came suddenly to a halt, dropping onto the pavement and shouting in pain. This may have seemed odd, but was perfectly reasonable behavior for someone who’d just taken a rifle round through the left kneecap. The pain was excruciating.

    The street was strangely empty, so ACIN had no trouble hearing the purr of the well-tuned knucklehead Harley as it rolled to a stop. The masked figure who stepped off the bike, raven hair spilling from under the gray babushka she’d worn to keep her hair in check from the wind, was poised and purposeful. She holstered the Moisin-Nagant M1930 in a saddle holster on the bike and then drew a heavy pistol from her coat. The grey eyes staring out over the mask were piercing and hard.


    “God's кара увійшов до списку котрі обмовте, пес.”

    “What are you talking about you sadistic b…”

    The single shot from the TT-33 caught a completely inoffensive name squarely between the eyes, the exit wound was much larger and very, very final. The grey-eyed killer returned the weapon to her coat pocket, made the sign of the cross from right to left, and then got back on the Harley and zipped off into the night.


    Morning Session, Day Sixteen

    “So anyway, that’s how things finished up. While we did take some losses, I think these mafia-types are finally on the ropes. It’s time to finish them.”

    Fermanagh consulted his notes.

    “Our after-death investigations using the powers outlined by Tosa have indicated the following: woad&fangs was a Made gangster working for the mafia when he died, but Joe Monks was an innocent townie with a good rep. Ricera10 we’re having a little trouble with – he has lots of buddies on the force but also had a criminal reputation, though he never had any serious convictions. He was not working with the mafia. Finally, the lynch effort seems to continue its effectiveness. El Diablo was another wiseguy. I should note, however, that there was no record of him working with the mafia that we had been able to uncover.”

    Fermanagh exited the room with just a bit of a spring in his step. Sigurd began a repetition of the rules governing lynch voting.


    OOC


    Lynch Voting should be completed by 1500 Eastern on Wednesday the 23rd (1900 GMT).


    The Fate of the Fatlings

    Attacked (43): Beefy187 (n1, n6), DJGingivtis (n2), Gaius Scribonius Curio (n2), Beskar (n3), Double A (n3), Lord Winter (n3, n5), Andres (n4, n9, n11), Diana Abnoba (n4), Reenk Roink (n4), Iskander3.1 (n5), Proletariat (n5, n5, n7, n7), TinCow (n6), Shinseikhaan (n7), Centurion1 (n8), Sasaki Kojiro (n8, n9, n10, n10, n13), Moros (n9, n10), Pannonian (n9), Sigurd (n9), Crazed Rabbit (n10, n14) askthepizzaguy (n11), Kukrikhan (n11), El Diablo (n12), LittleGrizzly (n12), spL1Tp3r50nality (n12), Chaotix (n13, n14, n15), a completely inoffensive name (n14), SSNeoperestroika (n14), Haudegen (n15)

    Killed (33): Quintus.JC (n1), The Stranger (n1), Death is Yonder (n2), pevergreen (n2), Yaropolk (n2), Myrddraal (n3), Jolt (n4), Craterus (n5), johnhughthom (n5), Leet Erickson (n5), Psychonaut (n5), Iskander3.1 (n6), Khazaar (n6), Kommodus (n6), scottishranger (n6), Aggonyduck (n8), Beskar (n8), Cultured Drizzt Fan (n8), glyphz (n8), shlin28 (n8), Diana Abnoba (n9), DisgruntledGoat (n9), Moros (n10), Reenk Roink (n10), Andres (n11), Ichigo (n11), LittleGrizzly (n12), Pannonian (n12), Joe Monks (n13), Ricera10 (n13), woad&fangs (n13), a completely inoffensive name (n15), Kukrikhan (n15)

    Lynched (17): Factionheir (d2), CountArach (d3), GeneralHankerchief (d3), discovery1 (d4), atheotes (d5), A Very Super Market (d6), Kagemusha (d6), Rhyfelwher (d7), Ironside (d8), DJGingivtis (d9), Lord Winter (d10), Beefy187 (d11), Centurion1 (d12), El Diablo (d13), Xehh II (d14), Crazed Rabbit (d15), Sasaki Kojiro (d15),

    Wogged (9): Nole4694 (n5), Truepraetorian (n5), Dutch_guy (n6), Warmaster Horus (n7), Greyblades (n10), Skooma Addict (n10), Cowhead418 (n11), Gaius Scribonius Curio (n11), Veronica "Trouble" Toluso (n11)

    Still Alive (18): askthepizzaguy, Caius, Chaotix, DoubleA, gibsonsg91921, Haudegen, Joooray, Proletariat, Shinseikhaan, Sigurd, slashandburn, spL1tp3r50naL1ty, SSNeoperestroika, TinCow, Tratorix, Twilightblade, White_Eyes:D, YLC.
    "The only way that has ever been discovered to have a lot of people cooperate together voluntarily is through the free market. And that's why it's so essential to preserving individual freedom.” -- Milton Friedman

    "The urge to save humanity is almost always a false front for the urge to rule." -- H. L. Mencken

  12. #42
    Praefectus Fabrum Senior Member Anime BlackJack Champion, Flash Poker Champion, Word Up Champion, Shape Game Champion, Snake Shooter Champion, Fishwater Challenge Champion, Rocket Racer MX Champion, Jukebox Hero Champion, My House Is Bigger Than Your House Champion, Funky Pong Champion, Cutie Quake Champion, Fling The Cow Champion, Tiger Punch Champion, Virus Champion, Solitaire Champion, Worm Race Champion, Rope Walker Champion, Penguin Pass Champion, Skate Park Champion, Watch Out Champion, Lawn Pac Champion, Weapons Of Mass Destruction Champion, Skate Boarder Champion, Lane Bowling Champion, Bugz Champion, Makai Grand Prix 2 Champion, White Van Man Champion, Parachute Panic Champion, BlackJack Champion, Stans Ski Jumping Champion, Smaugs Treasure Champion, Sofa Longjump Champion Seamus Fermanagh's Avatar
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    Default Re: Capo di Tutti Capi - III (Summaries and Notices)

    Arise ye workers from your slumbers
    Arise ye prisoners of want
    For reason in revolt now thunders
    And at last ends the age of cant.
    Away with all your superstitions
    Servile masses arise, arise
    We'll change henceforth the old conditions
    And spurn the dust to win the prize.

    So comrades, come rally
    And the last fight let us face
    The Internationale unites the human race.
    So comrades, come rally
    And the last fight let us face
    The Internationale unites the human race.

    -- The Internationale (translation)



    Evening Session, Day Sixteen
    [I hope you don't mind me changing the story a bit Seamus]

    At the end of day sixteen, the town had decided to eliminate one of the traitors in their midst, a man of sinister intentions and openly anti-American sympathies.
    A blue Jaguar XK 120 drove up to the curb and a man wearing a black suit, white Fedora, mirrored shades, and a red tie stepped out of the vehicle with style and grace, and in his white-gloved hand was a brand-new black umbrella.

    Chaotix knew exactly who this man was, but he stood his ground. He was not one to back away from any fight, a quality admired by the man with the umbrella. Chaotix reached for his weapon, just as the man opened his umbrella to shield himself from the bullets. This was Chaotix' plan, and it was working perfectly. He sprinted toward the former Director, grinning sadistically as all mad geniuses do. The umbrella blocked his view, and he didn't see that Chaotix was almost upon him. When he looked up, it was too late. Chaotix had simply tackled the man to the ground, knocking the umbrella out of his hands. Chaotix tried to fire his gun at the gentleman in the suit, but his opponent gripped his wrist tightly and kept the weapon pointed away from his face. The man with the red tie punched Chaotix in the face, and Chaotix returned the favor, knocking the shades off of the former Director. When he looked down, he saw his opponent's eyes... it looked like his opponent was getting quite irritated. If only his gun were just a little bit closer.... and it would be all over. He fired it anyway, the sound of the gunshot ringing loudly through his opponent's ear, causing him to wince. The man responded with an even stiffer punch to the nose, breaking it, and knocking Chaotix off of him. Chaotix was still armed, and turned quickly to shoot the pest who would not die. Several shots hit the man’s chest making loud metallic noises as they hit the steel in the bulletproof vest as he rolled behind his vehicle. Some of the gunshots hit the Jag.

    It was at this point that Chaotix had crossed the line. Breaking a nose, that was one thing. Shooting someone , that was another. But putting bullet holes in someone's Jaguar, that was an unforgivable crime. The man with the red tie jumped into the vehicle, and the headlights rolled back to reveal machine guns. Chaotix kept firing, but all he hit was the thick bulletproof glass. The man in the Jag revved the vehicle and leaped towards Chaotix, unleashing a torrent of fire-power. It was all Chaotix could do to dive behind a cement truck just in time. He checked the passenger door and it was unlocked, so he got inside and checked to see if he was about to get very lucky. Indeed he was.The keys were hidden in the driver's side sun visor. Inside the massive vehicle, Chaotix would be quite safe from machine gun fire and he was wielding a huge weapon of his own. The man in the Jaguar backed up immediately, but he was quickly pinned in an alley with no way to escape, as the cement truck advanced. Chaotix pulled the handbrake while shifting to reverse. The truck did a U-turn on locked wheels and came into the alley back first.

    "
    Oh no, no no no.... not my car...."

    lamented the man in the white Fedora. He jumped out of the vehicle and fled to safety.

    "
    Heh heh heh..."

    Chaotix snickered as he looked out the driver's side window. He pushed the button which caused the cement mixer to activate, and soon the cement began to pour directly onto the leather upholstery inside the Jaguar. This move definitely caused more damage to the man in the white Fedora than anything else anyone had ever done to him. Chaotix turned to his right, and he saw the man in the white Fedora sitting right next to him in the passenger seat, calmly adjusting his tie. Chaotix took his weapon and pointed it at the man, and in frustration, said

    "Why don't you JUST DIE???".

    The former Director grabbed his .38 colt special and fired Chaotix' gun clean out of his hands and out the window.

    "Now, now... I won't make it that easy for you. Not after what you did to my car."

    Askthepizzaguy punched Chaotix in the face, and tackled him, pushing him directly out of the driver's side door, causing them both to tumble to the ground. Chaotix rolled to his feet first, looking for the gun, but when he found it, he saw that the gun had been damaged and wouldn't fire. He dropped it and tried to flee up a fire escape.

    "Leaving so soon?"

    Askthepizzaguy said as he grabbed Chaotix by the leg. Chaotix responded by kicking Askthepizzaguy in the teeth, and then scurried up the ladder as quickly as he could, ending up on the roof of a grocery store, daring Askthepizzaguy to come up and follow him. That's exactly what he did, and soon the two were standing on the roof overlooking the crowd below, fighting for their lives. Chaotix pulled out a small switch-blade and stalked Askthepizzaguy, and the bloodied man in the white Fedora reached into his pocket and pulled out some of the golden powder that had gone unused by the man with the kunai in recent nights, tossing it at the roof beneath Chaotix' feet. The chemicals mixed and exploded, knocking Chaotix to the edge of the roof, stunned. Askthepizzaguy charged directly at his rival, and tackled him... they both tumbled off the roof and onto the awning below, where they rolled into a vendor's cart filled with oranges. The crash left them both dazed, but Chaotix got to his feet first, and reached into his coat to grab a hidden weapon; a .38 snubbie he kept for special occasions such as this. Pizzaguy was unarmed and now was Chaotix' chance to make himself famous.
    Chaotix cocked the weapon and pointed it right at Askthepizzaguy, savoring the moment...

    "Bye, bye Askthepizzaguy..."

    said Chaotix. Pizzaguy just smiled...

    A gasp went through the crowd that had gathered around the spectacle. Chaotix was about to pull the trigger when he saw his shadow on the tarmac, grow to an impossible size. He sensed something over him and glanced up over his shoulder. Behind him towered a hulk of some size with icy blue eyes and light blond hair. Chaotix gasped when he recognized the hero from the winter wars in Finland during the prelude to the Great War.

    “N..n..not you”.

    Chaotix turned the weapon towards the big man but before he could squeeze the trigger, the gun was enveloped in a huge hand and yanked from him. Chaotix could feel the wrist breaking and instinctively put the hand Napoleon style inside his suit jacket. The pain was terrible but he had endured worse in Finland fighting the joint Norwegian and Finish troops. The giant spoke with a rumbling voice:

    “I see you have brought your Red philosophy to this nation. Did you think we would just look the other way? These good people have voted and found you guilty of treason and the punishment is death. Do you have something to say”?

    Chaotix looked terrified. He had hoped he could weasel out of this by fighting his accusers, but realized that it would be more likely to snow in Hades than beating Sigurd the Slayer in any type of fight. This Hulk from Norway and now resident in Fatlington was no ordinary tourist. He had Spec Ops training with the British Commandos and had been a terrible thorn in the side for the Soviet invasion force of Finland and in multiple theatres for the Axis forces during the Great War. Not only was he good at skiing but he were quite the ladies man…
    Err.. who wrote these lines? … Anyway …
    Chaotix wanted to flee but his feet would just not move. Out of desperation, he pulled the last weapon in his arsenal, a battle axe attached to his back under the suit jacket. His broken hand jarred and he had to switch to the left hand, which was alright as he was really left handed anyway. He was sad though that he couldn’t surprise his adversary with the change of hand routine.
    Chaotix slashed the axe towards Sigurd’s head in an overhand Varangian cut.
    Sigurd, quite familiar with the move, stepped right, then forward which is the counter move against the overhand Varangian cut and smashed Chaotix’ face with one powerful fist. Chaotix saw just a white flash and found himself riding on the back of a horse …
    Err. Wrong story...

    Chaotix died in spasms on the tarmac outside the grocery store with bone fragments from his face making mush out of his brain.
    Pizzaguy adjusted his red tie and glanced back at his ruined Jaguar with a sigh.

    "I loved that car”.

    Sigurd the Slayer shot his icy blue eyes towards the car.

    “We’ll get you another, with better equipment.”

    Pizzaguy smiled:

    “You guys always get the better toys”.

    Sigurd replied:

    “Let’s finish this once and for all”.

    Askthepizzaguy just nodded. The assembled crowd of Fatlings was told to disperse. The destruction of property would be expensive to clean up today, that's for sure. Commissioner Fermanagh would be pretty ticked off.


    OOC

    Orders due for Night 16 no later than 1300 tomorrow, Thursday 24 September. (1700 GMT).


    Tally:


    Chaotix = 9 (ATPG, Haudegen, Jooray, Shinseikhaan, SSNeo, TinCow, Tratorix, White_Eyes:D, slashandburn)

    ATPG = 1 (Chaotix)
    Last edited by Sigurd; 09-23-2009 at 22:26.
    "The only way that has ever been discovered to have a lot of people cooperate together voluntarily is through the free market. And that's why it's so essential to preserving individual freedom.” -- Milton Friedman

    "The urge to save humanity is almost always a false front for the urge to rule." -- H. L. Mencken

  13. #43
    Praefectus Fabrum Senior Member Anime BlackJack Champion, Flash Poker Champion, Word Up Champion, Shape Game Champion, Snake Shooter Champion, Fishwater Challenge Champion, Rocket Racer MX Champion, Jukebox Hero Champion, My House Is Bigger Than Your House Champion, Funky Pong Champion, Cutie Quake Champion, Fling The Cow Champion, Tiger Punch Champion, Virus Champion, Solitaire Champion, Worm Race Champion, Rope Walker Champion, Penguin Pass Champion, Skate Park Champion, Watch Out Champion, Lawn Pac Champion, Weapons Of Mass Destruction Champion, Skate Boarder Champion, Lane Bowling Champion, Bugz Champion, Makai Grand Prix 2 Champion, White Van Man Champion, Parachute Panic Champion, BlackJack Champion, Stans Ski Jumping Champion, Smaugs Treasure Champion, Sofa Longjump Champion Seamus Fermanagh's Avatar
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    Default Re: Capo di Tutti Capi - III (Summaries and Notices)

    bleed in black and white
    (Release the pressure kept inside)
    These words won’t run tonight
    (And they would never)
    Moments that shouldn’t be forgotten
    (No)
    Don’t they remind you of anything?

    Then it seems so right and simple
    The purest impressions that can't be filed
    And one my ink will run dry
    And I'll be gone.

    -- Texas Funeral “Monochrome Rendition



    Summary of Events, Night Sixteen


    After the meeting broke up, Tratorix decided that it simply made no sense to scurry about like some kind of paranoid rat, constantly letting fear decide his every action. He had kept a low profile at first, but he had done his bit – and then some – to help bring an end to this scourge. It’s almost finished, this fight, surely a proper dinner at Iron Felix’s wasn’t too much of an extravagance.

    His repast was sumptuous – Felix’s custom had taken a hit these last few weeks so he added a few ‘extras’ to the meal – and the beverages more so. The Chicken Kiev had been almost fork tender, the rich buttery taste making the chicken a spectacular treat rather than a mundane meal. The Puligny-Montrachet that had gone with it was even better. Dessert would not live up to the rest of the meal.

    Tratorix was surprised when the trench-coated man walked into the alcove, gently tossing him a violin bow as he entered. Reflexes being what they are, Tratorix caught the bow easily in both hands. His left eye caught the rapid double tap from the Baretta just a second later. Punching neatly through the thin bone at the back of the socket, the rounds killed Tratorix even before he could make a sound. His body never even slumped back. His hands fell onto the table, still holding the bow, and the only sign of the damage done was a thin trickle of blood dripping down his check like red tears.

    The shooter put away his pistol and withdrew sufficient funds from his wallet to pay for the meal (+25%!), which he then placed on the table. He then quietly exited Iron Felix’s and made his way into the night.



    Gibsonsg91921 looked at his hand, mulling over his chances. His eyes darted about the table, to get a good look at the other players faces. White Eyes was an easy tell, man couldn't put help but wear his emotions on his sleeves. Jooray was the exact opposite - placid and hard to rid, sitting there drinking his coffee. slashandburn was the only one that returned Gibs' gaze, but he wasn't giving anything up either.

    Looking back down at his hand, and then at the chips on the table, Gibs’ decided to go for the ‘sure thing.’ He needed the money pretty badly anyway, and they'd forgive him later anyway. Scratching his arm, Gibs’ grinned with his cigar in his teeth, and laid down his cards.


    "Four Aces and a Queen kicker; read ‘em ‘n weep boys!"

    Immediately groans passed across the table as cards were thrown down on the table. slash shook his head and donned his fedora.

    "Your too good for us Gibs,’ if I didn't know any better...ah, anyway, you going to meet up with the rest of the team later? The 'boss' hasn’t authorized a hit tonight, but he said we should check back later in case…."

    Gibsong considered for a moment as he pulled in the chips towards him, a smile on his face.

    "Oh yeah, sure, sure, no problem. Good game tonight guys, keep it up and my mortgage should be gone by the end of the month!"

    Jooray laughed.

    “Hey, pay your own bills pal. Alright guys, lets head out and let Mr. Money count his winnings."

    White Eyes and slash both tipped their hats and left along with Jooray, leaving Gibsonsg91921 alone at the card table, the kitchen light his only illumination.

    A few minutes latter, a knock resounded upon the door, both petite yet demanding. Gibs sighed, put his pen down, and went to go get the door. Another knock only irritated him further.


    "Yea, yea, I'm coming."

    However, Gibsong nearly melted when he opened the door - before him stood a lovely young woman with raven hair and grey eyes, wearing a red hem dress with lace stockings, her figure easily showing through, and her lips just as red as her dress. Gibs gulped as the young lass looked up into his eyes.

    "May I come in?"

    Her puppy dog eyes were the final straw, and Gibs could just barely hear himself saying ‘Yes’ over his own blood racing. Bashfully saying ‘thank you,’ the woman entered, and then promptly grabbed Gibs by his sleeve. Confusion whirled in Gobsonsg91921’s head as the woman twisted it, and reached into the sleeve.

    "Oh, such a naughty little boy are we. Cheating at games and robbing our friends of their honest money -- how terrible of you. We can't have that now, nuh-uh, not at all. You'll have to be punished for your sins."

    Horror overcame Gibsong as he struggled against being dragged into the kitchen, but the woman's grip was far too tight, far too strong. Once in the kitchen, she giggled with delight, throwing Gibsong onto the table, and taking a rope she had brought with her, secured him to the table.

    "What is this I see? Bottles filled with sin, the drink of the devil! Dear me! I guess we will just have to be rid of that!"

    Gibsong stared in horror and growing fear as he watched as his alcohol cabinet was summarily poured out onto the floor and over himself, and the glass bottles thrown upon the floor.

    The woman giggled manically with glee as she raced about the house, closing every door and window, and finally twirling back into the kitchen to blow out the pilot light on the oven, which she then turned on. Taking one of Gibsong's unused cigars and lighting it, the woman straddled the tied down body of Gibsong and came within inches of his face.


    "Poor Gibby – t’was terrible, to be born in sin, to let the devil come right on in. Poor Gibsonsg’ – t’was delightful, to cover him in sin, and let the devil invite him in."

    Giving him a kiss and then sticking the lit cigar into Gibsong's mouth, the woman slid off and disappeared. Gibsong closed his eyes, crying softly, trying not to inhale, but not daring to let the cigar fall. The house began to fill with gas. Eventually, it reached the height of the table…and the cigar.


    It was a chilly night and he had a longish trip down to the South end ahead of him, so spL1tp3r50naL1ty cranked up the heat, cranked on the radio – Johnny Fontaine – and took a long drag on his Lucky. The weather wasn’t great, but he wasn’t in too much of a hurry, so he worked his way slowly down Atlantic Avenue.

    Despite the car’s armor and the resistant windows, despite the solid tires like those of a military armored car, despite all the usual precautions, Split never had a chance. The gas was odorless and colorless, and was mixing with the warm heat flowing into the interior of the car. At first he felt just a little sleepy, as well as mildly annoyed that you couldn’t roll down armored windows for fresh air. Seconds later he didn’t feel much of anything.

    His car slowly plowed into a parked vehicle. Within moments, bystanders saw a police cruiser roll up. The two police used a crowbar to break the lock on the door, and then quickly removed Split from his vehicle, driving him off North towards the direction of Mercy hospital.

    Mercy hospital would have no record of his admission, and Split was not seen in Fatlington again.



    "Thank you Commissioner. No Comissioner, I find the accommodations perfectly fine... Yes, I'll get on it right at the beginning of tomorrow. No, I assure you, I already sent them out to conduct the investigations...the debacle earlier today? I am told I should be safe, I sent some of the guards you gave me to go after her. Yes, she will be caught - we will have no more repeats....Commissioner, please, everything is under control, and is all going according to plan...yes...yes...thank you...good night Commissioner, I will see you tomorrow."

    Director Sigurd slammed the phone down and ran his hands through his hair. He looked down at the assignment sheet and the recently released investigation notes by ATPG, trying to formulate a plan. Picking up a nearby pencil, he began to absently tap it upon his desk, trying to use it to concentrate.

    Suddenly the door to his office opened and the sounds of the busy police precinct flooded in. Sigurd’s secretary (he’d insisted that Fermanagh provide him with one right after Fermanagh insisted on minutes and tallies etc.) stuck her head through the door, a tired look in her face.


    "Director, there appears to be someone at the front desk who needs to see you."

    Sigurd waved her away.

    “I am far too busy! Have Lieutenant Maloney take care of it, or have whoever needs to bug me so badly leave me a note and come back for the morning session."

    The secretary sighed and closed the door, leaving Sigurd to return to his work. A few minutes later, screams could be heard and then a loud gunshot.

    Sigurd sat straight up in his desk, his hand diving under to grab his S&W Model 27, sweating beading down his face and neck. More shots rang out, the sound of glass shattering, tables being over turned, people screaming, either in pain or to bark an order or curse. As the sounds of combat grew closer and closer and intensified, he could hear the Browning 5's distinct blast, each time accompanied by the scream of an officer.

    Suddenly, all became quiet, and Sigurd’s grip upon his pistol tightened. His door creaked open, and the head of his secretary stuck in.

    "What happened? Who attacked us? Is the suspect subdued? Answer me!"

    Instead of answering, his secretary simply stared into space through sightless eyes, and a chill crawled up Sigurd's spine. A single hand popped in and worked the jaw, a lavendery voice replying…

    "Everything's fine Mr. Director! Tip top shape! Only one thing out of place!"

    Pushing the door open, a raven haired woman in a bloodstained and torn-hemmed dress entered, a Browning 5 in her right hand, pushing the gutted and dead secretary out of the way with her left.

    "It's you who is out of place."

    A single moment of stillness preceded as both the woman and Sigurd leveled their weapons and fired at one another…


    Morning Session, Day Seventeen

    Fermanagh paused, obviously flustered. He’d spoken softly, and his last point had been delivered without his usual calm.

    “So, anyway, that’s what we think happened. We found them both lying there dead. YLC’s shot killed Sigurd more or less instantly, but Sigurd’s shots did enough damage that, coupled with the other wounds taken killing my officers, YLC died of blood loss before exiting the office.”

    Fermanagh was obviously stunned by the savagery of what had happened, was obviously still trying to process it in his mind.

    “Only a maniac could have done what YLC did. Taking that kind of damage and still attacking…I just don’t know what to say.”

    “I have only one autopsy report to give you, that of Xehh II. Our initial indications are that he was some kind of criminal, but that he had no connection to the mafia at all. He was, however, hoarding a number of kopis swords and other weaponry from ancient Egypt of all things – all of them in sets of five. I think we did ourselves no end of good by lynching that one. I’m not sure why Fatlington has to deal with these…these…”

    Fermanagh just stopped, obviously at a loss for words.

    Fermanagh reminded the committee – what was left of it – that he would oversee this evening’s vote selection. He then closed the morning session.




    OOC

    Lynch votes and Director Selections need to be completed by 1400 on Friday the 25th.



    The Fate of the Fatlings

    Attacked (43): Beefy187 (n1, n6), DJGingivtis (n2), Gaius Scribonius Curio (n2), Beskar (n3), Double A (n3), Lord Winter (n3, n5), Andres (n4, n9, n11), Diana Abnoba (n4), Reenk Roink (n4), Iskander3.1 (n5), Proletariat (n5, n5, n7, n7), TinCow (n6), Shinseikhaan (n7), Centurion1 (n8), Sasaki Kojiro (n8, n9, n10, n10, n13), Moros (n9, n10), Pannonian (n9), Sigurd (n9), Crazed Rabbit (n10, n14) askthepizzaguy (n11), Kukrikhan (n11), El Diablo (n12), LittleGrizzly (n12), spL1Tp3r50nality (n12), Chaotix (n13, n14, n15), a completely inoffensive name (n14), SSNeoperestroika (n14), Haudegen (n15)

    Killed (37): Quintus.JC (n1), The Stranger (n1), Death is Yonder (n2), pevergreen (n2), Yaropolk (n2), Myrddraal (n3), Jolt (n4), Craterus (n5), johnhughthom (n5), Leet Erickson (n5), Psychonaut (n5), Iskander3.1 (n6), Khazaar (n6), Kommodus (n6), scottishranger (n6), Aggonyduck (n8), Beskar (n8), Cultured Drizzt Fan (n8), glyphz (n8), shlin28 (n8), Diana Abnoba (n9), DisgruntledGoat (n9), Moros (n10), Reenk Roink (n10), Andres (n11), Ichigo (n11), LittleGrizzly (n12), Pannonian (n12), Joe Monks (n13), Ricera10 (n13), woad&fangs (n13), a completely inoffensive name (n15), Kukrikhan (n15), gibsonsg91921 (n16), Sigurd (n16), Tratorix (n16), YLC (n16)

    Removed (1): spL1tp3r50naL1ty

    Lynched (18): Factionheir (d2), CountArach (d3), GeneralHankerchief (d3), discovery1 (d4), atheotes (d5), A Very Super Market (d6), Kagemusha (d6), Rhyfelwher (d7), Ironside (d8), DJGingivtis (d9), Lord Winter (d10), Beefy187 (d11), Centurion1 (d12), El Diablo (d13), Xehh II (d14), Crazed Rabbit (d15), Sasaki Kojiro (d15), Chaotix (d16)

    Wogged (9): Nole4694 (n5), Truepraetorian (n5), Dutch_guy (n6), Warmaster Horus (n7), Greyblades (n10), Skooma Addict (n10), Cowhead418 (n11), Gaius Scribonius Curio (n11), Veronica "Trouble" Toluso (n11)

    Still Alive (13): askthepizzaguy, Caius, DoubleA, Haudegen, Joooray, Louis VI the Fat, Shinseikhaan, slashandburn, spL1tp3r50naL1ty, SSNeoperestroika, TinCow, Twilightblade, White_Eyes:D.

    Replaced (2): Imperator Invictus (by FactionHeir, n1), Proletariat (By Louis VI the Fat, n16)
    "The only way that has ever been discovered to have a lot of people cooperate together voluntarily is through the free market. And that's why it's so essential to preserving individual freedom.” -- Milton Friedman

    "The urge to save humanity is almost always a false front for the urge to rule." -- H. L. Mencken

  14. #44
    Praefectus Fabrum Senior Member Anime BlackJack Champion, Flash Poker Champion, Word Up Champion, Shape Game Champion, Snake Shooter Champion, Fishwater Challenge Champion, Rocket Racer MX Champion, Jukebox Hero Champion, My House Is Bigger Than Your House Champion, Funky Pong Champion, Cutie Quake Champion, Fling The Cow Champion, Tiger Punch Champion, Virus Champion, Solitaire Champion, Worm Race Champion, Rope Walker Champion, Penguin Pass Champion, Skate Park Champion, Watch Out Champion, Lawn Pac Champion, Weapons Of Mass Destruction Champion, Skate Boarder Champion, Lane Bowling Champion, Bugz Champion, Makai Grand Prix 2 Champion, White Van Man Champion, Parachute Panic Champion, BlackJack Champion, Stans Ski Jumping Champion, Smaugs Treasure Champion, Sofa Longjump Champion Seamus Fermanagh's Avatar
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    Default Re: Capo di Tutti Capi - III (Summaries and Notices)

    Chaka Khan
    Won't you tell me
    What you wanna do
    Do you feel for me
    The way I feel for you
    Chaka Khan
    Let me tell you what I wanna do
    I wanna love you
    Wanna hug you
    Wanna squeeze you too
    Let me take you in my arms
    Let me fill you with my charms
    Chaka
    'Cause you know that I'm the one
    To keep you warm, Chaka
    I'll make it more than just a physical dream
    I wanna rock you, Chaka, baby
    'Cuz you make me wanna scream
    Let me rock you
    Rock you

    -- Chaka Khan "I Feel for You"


    Evening Session, Day Seventeen (Continued)


    The voting hadn't shifted much in the two hours Fermanagh had given them, but it had shifted enough. In the end, Shinseikhaan had the most votes. Near the end, he even voted for himself in disgust at the results. Oddly, the voting continued for a while after the officers had taken the ballots to the back table for counting. Democracy in action?

    Fermanagh was handed the results.


    "Shins, may God have mercy on your soul. Lads, take him away."

    The officers pinioned 'Khaan, then frog-marched him from the room and down to the boardwalk. From there, they took him down on the beach. He was tied to a stake, offered the traditional blind fold (rejected) and last cigarette (accepted). Four officers raised their rifles, not knowing which one had the live bullet as Fermanagh dropped a hankerchief on the boardwalk above.


    Shinseikhaan slumped quietly on the post, dead. There had been no whining or invective once the committee's decision was final. All in all, he died well.

    The committee dispersed into the Fatlington night.



    OOC

    Orders for n17 are due no later than 2000 Saturday 26 September (2400 GMT).


    Tally

    1st -- Shinseikhaan: 6 (Double A, Haudegen, Louis the Fat, Shinseikhaan, SSNeoperestroika, Tincow)

    2nd -- Haudegen: 4 (Askthepizzaguy, Joooray, slashandburn, White Eyes)
    "The only way that has ever been discovered to have a lot of people cooperate together voluntarily is through the free market. And that's why it's so essential to preserving individual freedom.” -- Milton Friedman

    "The urge to save humanity is almost always a false front for the urge to rule." -- H. L. Mencken

  15. #45
    Praefectus Fabrum Senior Member Anime BlackJack Champion, Flash Poker Champion, Word Up Champion, Shape Game Champion, Snake Shooter Champion, Fishwater Challenge Champion, Rocket Racer MX Champion, Jukebox Hero Champion, My House Is Bigger Than Your House Champion, Funky Pong Champion, Cutie Quake Champion, Fling The Cow Champion, Tiger Punch Champion, Virus Champion, Solitaire Champion, Worm Race Champion, Rope Walker Champion, Penguin Pass Champion, Skate Park Champion, Watch Out Champion, Lawn Pac Champion, Weapons Of Mass Destruction Champion, Skate Boarder Champion, Lane Bowling Champion, Bugz Champion, Makai Grand Prix 2 Champion, White Van Man Champion, Parachute Panic Champion, BlackJack Champion, Stans Ski Jumping Champion, Smaugs Treasure Champion, Sofa Longjump Champion Seamus Fermanagh's Avatar
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    Default Re: Capo di Tutti Capi - III (Summaries and Notices)

    i've seen your eyes shine
    just get through the night this time
    resolve is weak i abuse it
    you turn your cheek then i'll loose it
    life just slips through my fingers
    i blame him and i hurt him
    turn the screw rub the dirt in
    there's dirt under my fingers
    hold onto life
    hold on despite this
    i've seen your eyes shine
    just get through the night this time
    just get through the night this time
    i wanted it and i can't get
    it was heaven sent so i spent it
    the sky just slipped through my fingers

    -- Queen Adreena "Childproof"


    Summary of Events, Night Seventeen

    He felt horrible. Haudegen had walked out of the meeting session in a bit of a funk. Louis VI had accosted him briefly, but he'd pushed him aside, but then...he just felt dizzy and sick and downright awful. He headed back for the apartment. He barely made it, then fell on the bed and passed out.

    An hour later, a group of concerned citizens arrived -- by coincidence of course -- at the cafe across from Haudegen's building.

    "Are we ready to end this?," asked White_eyes:D. He'd been working towards this from the outset -- he actually regretted QJC's death now -- and after all the trouble he wanted to be there at the death.

    askthepizzaguychecked his umbrella one last time and then answered White_eyes:D.

    "More than ready. I had planned for this to end earlier this evening. Fermanagh apparently lacked the testicular fortitude to do what was needful."

    White_eyes both sneered and chuckled at the same moment. Apparently, he'd thought just as highly of Fermanagh's decision as had 'Pizzaguy. The third person at the table didn't appear quite so comfortable with the "edge" the discussion had taken.

    "Look guys," said SSNeoperestroika. "This may be necessary, but I just can't make myself enjoy it. My work has been on the opposite side of things. This just seems a bit...off."

    "You don't have to enjoy it, just do your bit," said 'Pizzaguy. "We wait for either Double A or Joooray to turn up, then we head across the street. It'll take all four of us to make it work without risking ourselves, but Louis made sure he's not going anywhere."

    "How?"

    "Neo, I just don't know. Louis has always done what he's said he'd do though."

    The hours passed by, but nobody came to fill the quartet. There were too many people in the apartment building for just three to get everything to happen in the proper sequence. The conversation got as stale as the cigarettes they smoked. The coffee turned bitter, even when they'd called for a fresh pot.

    "They both said they'd do it," said 'Pizzaguy for the 1000th time. This time the answer didn't suffice. Neo and White_eyes walked away.



    Morning Session, Day Eighteen


    Fermanagh arrived late for the session, looking flustered.

    "Thanks ever so for attending," said slashandburn, sarcasm dripping from every syllable. "Hope we didn't bump something IMPORTANT from your schedule."

    "It's over!"

    The much-reduced committee started talking over each other in a rush. After a moment they settled down and Fermanagh continued.

    "When my lads cruised by Haudegen's to "suggest" he be sure to attend, they couldn't find him. They rummaged through things and found all sorts of inciminating stuff -- including a set of matching .28 caliber Baretta pistols. We've a warrant out for his arrest now."

    "Everything, our informants, the results of the investigations...EVERYTHING says he's the last one. You've done it! You've saved Fatlington! We're SAFE at last. I know my officers we have him in custody within hours. God bless you for your efforts!"


    Mid-Day, Day Eighteen, S.S. Posterior Betwixt Legs

    Haudegen already hated the stink of fish, and it was still a long way to Cuba. He wasn't really looking forward to his reception all that much either. He'd awakened early, feeling horrible still, and assumed he'd been drugged. If they could get to him that easily, it was only a matter of time -- and the preceding day's lynch vote hadn't given him much hope for today.

    Sometimes discretion is the better part of valor. Haudegen took up the only item he'd brought with him from his apartment in the hectic rush to get out and away before the police came by to "encourage" his attendance at the meeting. Out came the violin and bow. If he played well enough, maybe he wouldn't even smell the fish. The strains of a Sicilian love song floated on the air as the fishing smack headed south. 'Speak softly love....'



    Hotel Nacional, Habana Cuba


    Luciano picked up the phone on the second ring. Only a very few people had THAT number, people who deserved his attention.

    "Completely?"

    "No, No, I agree Meyer, just leave it be for now."

    "Damn! Hoover's people? "I thought you had pictures of him..."

    "Hunting commies?"

    "Yeah, bad coincidence."

    "Agreed. We'll leave Fatlington be....for now."



    OOC

    Game Over, Townies Win. More specifics to follow.
    "The only way that has ever been discovered to have a lot of people cooperate together voluntarily is through the free market. And that's why it's so essential to preserving individual freedom.” -- Milton Friedman

    "The urge to save humanity is almost always a false front for the urge to rule." -- H. L. Mencken

  16. #46
    Praefectus Fabrum Senior Member Anime BlackJack Champion, Flash Poker Champion, Word Up Champion, Shape Game Champion, Snake Shooter Champion, Fishwater Challenge Champion, Rocket Racer MX Champion, Jukebox Hero Champion, My House Is Bigger Than Your House Champion, Funky Pong Champion, Cutie Quake Champion, Fling The Cow Champion, Tiger Punch Champion, Virus Champion, Solitaire Champion, Worm Race Champion, Rope Walker Champion, Penguin Pass Champion, Skate Park Champion, Watch Out Champion, Lawn Pac Champion, Weapons Of Mass Destruction Champion, Skate Boarder Champion, Lane Bowling Champion, Bugz Champion, Makai Grand Prix 2 Champion, White Van Man Champion, Parachute Panic Champion, BlackJack Champion, Stans Ski Jumping Champion, Smaugs Treasure Champion, Sofa Longjump Champion Seamus Fermanagh's Avatar
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    Default Re: Capo di Tutti Capi - III (Summaries and Notices)

    And now for a list of the dramatis personae in our little story.

    But FIRST, just a little Hello from my personal favorite!



    No, he was not warned in advance that I'd put him into a rabbit suit. Rabbit, I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. The single image that made me laugh the most throughout and you captured it perfectly.


    Results by Role:

    The Town

    Detectives (3) (Townie)
    a completely inoffensive name -- close victory (killed by Xehh II night 16)
    Myrddraal -- close victory (killed by Leet Erickson & Veronica Tuloso night 3)
    Pannonian -- close victory (killed by askthepizzaguy & Ricera10 night 12)

    Doctors (4) (Townie)
    Cultured Drizzt Fan -- close victory (killed by Centurion1 & woad&fangs night 8)
    Double A -- clear victory (survived), Surgeon
    Nole4694 -- withdrawn
    SSNeoperestroika -- clear victory (survived), Surgeon

    FBI Detective (1) (Townie)
    johnhughthom -- close victory (killed by Centurion1 & woad&fangs night 5)

    FBI CounterIntelligence (2) (Townie) Cover = Townie - incorruptible
    Proletariat (Louis VI) -- clear victory (survived)
    slashandburn -- clear victory (survived)

    Rogue Detective (1) (Townie)
    Ricera10 --

    Townie -- incurruptible (8) (Townie)
    Dutch_guy --
    gibson91921 --
    Joooray --
    Psychonaut --
    Quintus.JC --
    Shlin28 --
    Tratorix --
    White_eyes:D --

    Townie -- normal () (Townie)



    The Mafia



    The Others




    Host’s Summary

    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    As always, the Capo series is a mafia battle game rather than a classic mafia game. I enjoy hosting it because, though I set the tone for things, the story that is enacted is a team effort. I find the results endlessly surprising and terribly funny – of course it helps that I know who’s who when I’m reading things.

    Setup and Opening

    I’m simply going to have to go to mass mailings next time. Too many individual mailings – though nicely personalized – left the opening dragging a bit. Next time, everyone will get the normal townie role and then I’ll send off the other roles in batches. I’ll do the red text info and allegiance info (where needed) in separate PMs. That should drop me below 40 opening PMs and let me get it up and running in 3-4 hours as opposed to 8.

    I was happy with the numbers, but really think Capo will peak at around 100 for ideal numbers play and energy. I hope you all will recruit some more. I’m thinking February 1st for a start with sign-ups in Jan.


    This Year’s “Theme”

    The first Capo was an homage to film noir and the Godfather series. The second iteration featured a full cast of families and should have featured a clash between the anti-mafia crusaders and the mafia families. The crusaders never quite took off and without that counter-balance, the mafia ended up in the lead – and the fact that darn few townies stayed with the town didn’t help. One specific change made was to include “incorruptible” townies in mini-mason pairs. I wanted a core of “townies” (aside from the detectives and doctors) who were committed to town success. Capo II was practically “townie-free” after day 4 or so.

    Now, since we’re into the 1950s, it was time for the Red Menace! Capo 3 was set against the Early Cold War background of McCarthyism and the Chinese intervention in Korea. We had a trio of commies – including a detective! – and a trio of mafia hunters. This time, it was the communists who didn’t get off the ground smoothly. However, they were a factor throughout the game, which helped a bit. It may have ended up giving too much detective power to the town, however.

    The “threat” of communism – head to the Monastery for a debate of the history if you wish – did influence most U.S. national policies for decades, and quite a few aspects of daily life. McCarthy, of course, was a political opportunist. He took a host of vague allegations, stapled them to the facts of Alger Hiss, and ran with it. He ignored due process, used scare tactics and intimidation, and encouraged people to be “black-listed” for having any affiliation with any communist or quasi-communist group of any kind. He was also considered a hard drinker by reporters of the 1940s and 1950s. THAT means he was probably a functional alcoholic. It is a certainty that one of the key components of his effort was to create personal political power for Joseph McCarthy.

    Playing off the fears of a Soviet bomb (they’d toggled one off in 1949), McCarthy gained a huge amount of political capital very quickly. He also managed to put pressure on communists and soviet agents in the media and in government. He may have been leading a witch hunt, but a few of his targets did apparently ride brooms. Unfortunately, McCarthy’s gross abuses of civil rights and the powers of his office overshadow any successes he may have had. For every communist he discomfited, a hundred or more Americans whose only crime was an inclination toward left wing politics suffered.

    During that same era, the FBI more than doubled in size, largely to increase its abilities in the counter-intelligence area. Moreover, since we’d disbanded our bureau of spying and dirty tricks at the end of the war – and suddenly found we needed one since the threat of Soviet spying was real – we established the CIA. As with all good government efforts, the two bureaus are in a constant “pissing match” over funding and reputation. Politics sweet politics.

    In Capo 3, I had a CIA agent with mafia ties – and they did have some based on old OSS connections to Luciano’s organization in Sicily in WW2 (the thread already mentions that the CIA was probably using Mafia connections to attempt to kill Castro in the late 50s/early 60s). I also had FBI counter-intelligence types. The Mafia has been fairly strongly anti-communist in its leanings – more because of a perception that communist dictatorships would be bad for business than for any noble civic virtues. In retrospect, I needed to curtail the FBI/CIA investigative powers a bit more than I did. I had thought the loyal/questionable stuff would be more limiting. Perhaps that was moot the moment random.org gave the CIA role to askthepizzaguy.

    As Time Progressed….

    Day One:

    I really wasn’t paying a lot of attention at first, but we ended up with a Capo 1st! Reenk Roink not only said he’d like to be Director, but campaigned for the job with actual evidence – here’s how I do write-ups etc. He ended up taking the job in a landslide. GH was willing to risk his Don in the early game, no doubt assuming he could parlay the lynch write-ups/sense of him leading the town to an even greater measure of safety for his family. Gutsy call that, most mafia roles do NOT benefit from being Director (Mades/Lucas can’t function fully and Dons get put in the spotlight a bit).

    Night One:

    Blade and YLC made this one fun. Blade had entertainment in mind from the get-go, so I wrote it up with an emphasis on imagery and tried to make the town think SK – just to add to the tension. Meanwhile, YLC’s take on the conflicted serial killer was dramatic and engaging and very edgy on its own (and 90+% his in all but one case). Stranger managed to tip one of the “triggers” by accident. A pair of my “incorruptibles” led a townie hit team on night one. NOT in the spirit I had intended the role, but within the rules. QJC was, to the extent I could tell, a random choice. He was also one of the other incorruptible townies. There is a lesson here for townies of the future. YES you want to up your skills for the endgame battle, but on the first night or two you are significantly more likely to take out a pro-town or neutral-might-get-them-to-our-side role than you are to kill a Mafioso or SK. If you’ve got evidence on someone things may be different, but random kills probably do more harm.

    Quite a few mistakes in orders or sloppy coordination – that being par for the course in all three capo games so far. This is probably an inevitable component of Capo, especially as we seem to always draw at least a few players new to mafia in general, much less the capo system.


    Day Two:

    Reenk promised entertaining lynches and delivered. Club30 rapidly became an icon and will be on the “map” of Fatlington if I ever get around to cobbling one together. Unfortunately, the initial target was FactionHeir – the chap I had just wheedled into replacing one of my Mafia Mades who wanted to bow out early. FH was kind enough to help out and then was dead before he’d had a chance to properly re-read his role PM. Don’t get me wrong, the town’s choice was a good one. Some evidence had surfaced that Imperator was a made – he revealed privately?!? – and any first lynch that can actually respond to semi-credible evidence is a great thing for the town.

    I had no idea that I was handing FH an impossible task. If Imperator had told me he’d revealed privately to others not in his family I’d have force him to stay in the game on his own – knowing that it would NOT be a long stay. Revealing your true role to anyone not listed on your sheets as already knowing is highly dangerous and should only be down after that other party has earned a few “points” in your eyes. Security being what it is, early private revelations by Mafiosi generally get them a quick lynch. Early private revelations of simple townie status put you on the list for mafia removal. I’d recommend to all players that you take an hour or so just after getting your role PMs and pump out a few “alternate identities.” You need to be able to adapt quickly when the time comes.


    Night Two:

    “Trouble” joined into the game with a vengeance (she’d missed the start), hooking up with wiseguy Leet and killing Death. I made that one professional looking enough. Twilightblade continued his entertainment. Chaotix, Death is Yonder, and Split successfully protected DJG (Mafia Don!) from the attack of Gibs, W_E, Khaan, & Dutch (most of the crew who whacked QJC) – Ichigo didn’t have to Luca at all really, though he too got credit for the save.


    Day Three:

    Losing CountArach this early probably hurt the game a lot. As it was conceived, his detective (commie!) would be in the perfect place to have done what Pizzaguy ended up doing -- and then betray things from within. Instead, too many people got interested in his codeword effort and it got him killed post-haste. Without him there, the FBI ended up too far in front over the commies. Rhyf's never connecting with Chaotix more or less sealed their fate, despite his excellent efforts to mingle and survive -- even managing a recruit! Club30 was a focal point by the end of the lynch though, which made things entertaining on that level. By the way, I'd like to acknowledge RR's efforts there. I made only minor cosmetic changes to put the club in the Bayside district and smooth out a few logistics issues -- the themes and the gore were pure Reenkster.


    Night Three:

    Fatlington's "Viscious Vigilante" squad (W_E, Gibs, 'Khaan, and a 4th {scot this time} was still operating more or less at random, apparently, targeting Double A for elimination. Since he was a doctor, they were probably happy, at least later on, that his luck held for that night. Double A did have some folks protecting him and all of them (El D, glyphz, 'Goat) submitted orders, but as one of the three, Disgruntled Goat, was a Don, the effort failed. Double A continued his chain of Pizzaguy protection efforts. As near as I can figure it, Pizzaguy was protected every non-director night save for n6, n13, and n17. This was the most consistent component of the entire game. Actually, he would have been vulnerable n4 as well, since his 4-person protection team included two mafia Dons (DJG, who gave orders to stay home and Atheotes who did show to protect)! The only mafia effort night 3 was the Leet & "Trouble" pair. This time they did for Myrddraal (detective) who was heading out on vacation anyway, so that was one less replacement for me to find. Kagemusha, Joe Monks, and Disco all listed in orders to kill Beskar, but Kage switched back to protecting jht so the effort failed.


    Day Four:

    With the success of the first double lynch in some time on day 3, there were calls for a repeat. Instead, disco ended up as a sole choice for the day. As near as I can figure it, he’d revealed privately to Prole early on Day 1. Since the FBI counter agents were, essentially, pro-town, his death was more or less assured. If anything, I was surprised that GH preceded him.

    Night Four:

    Jolt’s kill was the most fun to write. Scottish sent me a “do something with Lewis Carroll” command and I went to town. The rabbit suit WAS my idea, not CR’s – I suspect he probably had a skipped heartbeat or two when he read it. I did surmise that the crowd had gone past such obvious referants and would assume I would never do such a thing – so I did! Can’t go to that well next game. Blade kept up his entertainment and Leet & Vernonica only missed due to luck, because the protection team included Luca Ironsides (a fact that came back to haunt him).

    On the protection side, Pizza WAS vulnerable on n4, as noted above, with only two valid protectors. Sigurd drew doctor protection (Double A) as did Psycho (SSNeo). Also vulnerable were s&b (two separate protection efforts BOTH of which failed due to Mafiosi on the teams and one missed order by Caius) and Doc Double A (withdrawn orders from Sasaki). Had the Kagemusha team gelled, and had the Jolt and Diana kill teams had any inkling what was going on, then it would have been possible for ATPG, S&B and Dbl A all to have gone down to death in one night. That would have changed the game of course, but it was not to be.

    Day Five:

    Atheotes caught the chop based on another private reveal. The FBI team garnered 3-4 of these early on and the mafia all paid. Thought for the future: Early efforts to get others to show their role sheets should be viewed with much skepticism. It is better for a Mafioso to say no, get told “reveal or we’ll denounce you” and to respond with ‘lynch away’ than to try to deal with the early reveal shenanigans. Early reveal Mafiosi die. To those who ask, please remember that YOU might be the baddie in a future game. As Sasaki taught me long ago, if you want to keep playing you cannot have strategies that force all or nothing decisions every time.

    Night Five:

    It was Prole’s night for some fun. She was protected by SSNeo, but targeted by both a vig team (gibs, w_e, ‘khaan) that failed when Scottish didn’t turn in orders, and a mafia team (leet and kage) who failed only because of luck. Craterus stared Diana into inactivity, but then died at the hands of Xehh II based on the vote. Psycho was killed by CR and Scottish while Leet (newly Made) was vig killed by Tincow, Andres, Kommo, and Joe M. Rogue Ricera then used his Buntline to take out Iskander, who’d he’d ID’d as a criminal. Iskander survived on his luck. Rice knew W_E was guilty, but assumed he was a vigilante and never targeted him as he could have.

    Tincow had two separate failed protection efforts on n5, one of s&b’s protection teams failed, and so did Double A’s with Diana sidelined. Pizza, Prole, Sigurd, and s&b all had angels on n5.

    Day Six:

    The lynch was another successful double. However, the real results were only 50/50. Kagemusha had been cozy with the mafia from the outset, and had started to do kill missions the preceding night. AVSM, however, had no mafia connections and was, as far as I could tell, pro-town at that point in the game. Both had detective results on them which indicated criminal (AVSM) or unclear (Kagemusha) and that was apparently enough.

    Night Six:

    CR and Scottish teamed up to kill Tincow, drawing a blank against his luck. Centurion1 and w&f fared better against Kommo. Rice finished the job on Iskander. ‘Blade continued his entertainment.

    Then the two vig efforts swung in. Gibs and W_E, usually a team, were each on separate efforts. FBIc guy slashandburn teamed up with Kukri, W_E and Don Haudegen to kill Khazar an unaffiliated wiseguy who was relatively inactive. Gibs led a squad of one wiseguy commie (Chaotix) and two Mafiosi (Don Goat and Luca Iron) to kill Luca scottishranger.

    -- Days and Nights Five and Six broke the back of the mafia. The mafia families were already hurting, having lost 1 Made and 2 Luca’s in the first 4 days. That still left them with some reasonable if uncoordinated hitting power. Days 5 and 6 killed a Don and a half-Made. Nights 5 and 6 killed off 2 Mades, 1 Luca and a pair of wiseguys who may have been or were being recruited.

    By contrast, the town lost 1 pro-town wiseguy, 1 incorruptible townie, 1 townie vigilante, and the FBI guy. That’s 5 mafiosi and 2 possibles for 4 townies – nearly two to one.

    Day Seven

    Rhyfelwyr's death pretty well ended the chance of a Commie victory. Nobody'd really confirmed his commie status -- though he had questionable results -- but his inactivity and investigation results were enough on this day, where no other clear candidates aside from Centurion1 were in the offing.

    Night Seven

    Prole was attacked by the entertainer and by the five killer, with SSNeo saving her in his doctor capacity. The mafia hit on Shinseikhaan failed when Centurion1 did not get orders in on time for the hit. Tincow was credited with a save on Proletariat by mistake (only two of the 4 named got orders in, but I'd circled it as an active protection. Scanning back quickly later, I ended up giving him credit by accident for this).

    Day Eight

    The only good fortune for the mafia on this session was that the town were just hesitant enough not to go for the double lynch, choosing Ironside. Both Ironside and Lord Winter were mafia, and Pizza would have killed them both.

    Night Eight

    Andres managed to kill Ducky via his vote from the previous day, courtesy of the Five killer. Mafia teams killed Beskar (CR & LW) and Drizzt (Cent1 & w&f), while Mafia soloist Haudegen took out Glyphz. Coming after the kill-free Night Seven, this was good mafia effort to get back in the game -- though the numbers were against them. Shlin28 died making a solo townie attack against mafioso Centurion1. His partners, W_E, Beskar, & SpL1t, all did other things that night, leaving him to his fate. Shlin28 had a lot of trouble in this game getting any of his groups to work. On n1 he and QJC teamed up with 'Goat to protect Pizzaguy (who didn't send in other orders AND was a Don!). On n2, he was nearly killed as a solo defender in the pever' fiasco. On n3 he and Sasaki protected Diana -- but both Skooma and GSC failed to get orders in. On n4 shlin protected Diana again, working with Glyphz and Ironsides (who was mafia, so the effort failed). On n5 he and Kukri protected Kommodus, but the group would have failed again as GSC did not submit orders. On n6 Shlin was part of a 4-person protection team for s&b. This one would have worked -- even though the 4th member, Iskander, was a mafioso. On n7, Shlin was protecting TinCow with Tratorix and...Ironsides. If I were Shlin, I might've started taking in personally. He was one of the most active players throughout, but always snake-bit in his night partnerships.

    Day Nine

    I chose the "Kilkenny Cats" piece as an intro because the entire discussion -- boisterous as it was -- featured far too much mafia on mafia voting and counter argument. DJG, LW, and CR were all playing for the Sicilians, but ended up listed as votees 1, 2, and 3. Townie efforts may have been divided, but nothing was shifting the votes toward a townie for the lynch.

    Night Nine

    TWO Protection teams, one of them overstaffed, both defened Mafia Commission Rep Sigurd from and attack by the Mafia (CR & C1)! Haudegen killed Diana working alone, while a large Vig squad (Jooo, Joe, TinC, Andres, & Beefy) combined to kill Don 'Goat. Xehh killed Moros on his second try, while Pizza used scheduled-for-death Lord Winter as his accomplice to attack Detective Pannonian (who'd gone inactive a few days previously and who I hadn't gotten around to wogging). Andres received 'Blades loving attentions as Twilightblade continued his reign of....entertainment.

    Day Ten

    The only confusion centered on my accidentally giving out the wrong results for Rabbit. He'd been guilty as a wiseguy and I made the mistake of thinking he was in a family. Actually, at that point, he'd never gotten made despite all his efforts. After I corrected that, Lord Winter's death went off as Pizzaguy had scheduled it.

    Night Ten

    Reenk had a wonderful write-up for his attempt on Sasaki, which failed and got him killed -- but he was kind enough to include that possibility in the write-up so it went in smoothly. Sasaki had also played with 'Blade earlier. The attempt on CR failed because Andres, TinCow and Haudegen tried to kill him but Reenk Roink and Caius did not. Moros survived the attack of the vig squad of W_E, Tratorix, and Joooray because gibs didn't get orders in and Andres was off trying to kill CR. Moros was killed by our friendly neighborhood SK. Sigurd, Pizza, and the Doctor squad were all in protection mode.

    Day Eleven

    Beefy was probably one of the worst lynches by the town all game. At no point did the Beef ever work with the mafia, and he'd dutifully protected and vig-killed all game. He'd been "innocent" prior to the 'Goat killing, and that was enough damning evidence.

    Night Eleven

    The Mafia, responding to a request by Sigurd, attacked Pizzaguy to no effect (Protected by Split). Haudegen took out Andres working solo. The W_E & Gibs team, now with Joooray and Tratorix, took out Ichigo. Ichigo was pretty well known to be mafia at this point, and made a good clear target.

    A mafia team featuring woad, Cent1, and Shinseikhaan failed to take out Kukri due to luck. This was 'Khaan's first killing effort with the mafia. Prior to this he had worked with the W_E & Gibs vig team, as well as protected Prole.

    Day Twelve

    Centurion1 had enjoyed too much suspicion for too long, and had proven difficult to vig-kill. He ended up being a fairly easy lynch choice.

    Night Twelve

    Double A protected Split from Mr. Haudegen's superb pistolry, but the town didn't really do very well on n12. The hit on Grizzly failed when Tratorix didn't get orders in for the hit. Pizza teamed up with Rogue Detective Ricera10 to kill Pannonian (innocent detective). On the other hand, the town did get rather lucky. El Diablo had been targeted by a mafia team, but Xehh and Joe M didn't submit orders and w&f and 'Khaan weren't able to finish him by themselves. To top it all off, Grizzly WAS killed by the SK, giving the town their target's head despite the townie miscues.

    By this point in the game, the metric was simple. If you come back as "guilty" and you are on our kill teams, that's okay. If you come back innocent and you're a known doctor or detective, that's okay. Anybody else we kill. While brutal, the numbers guaranteed this would be an effective strategy.

    Day Thirteen

    El Diablo's survival didn't work well for El D. He caught the day thirteen vote.

    Night Thirteen

    Townie vigilantiism was in fine fettle on n13. Pizza and Rice targeted the last original communist, Chaotix, who was protected (by plan) by Sasaki, TinCow, and ACIN. The vig team killed w&f. Unfortunately, CR and w&f had taken out Ricera10 and Xehh II had killed Joe Monks. Despite the town's dominant position and coordinated targeting, the bad guys were racking up more kills.

    Day Fourteen

    A thinning field of entrants had finally been winnowed down to Xehh II as everyone's best guess for the identity of the number five killer. His lynch ended that threat to the town. Neither Haudegen nor CR kept a lot of votes on them -- despite my screwing up and reporting Haudegen innocent. Fortunately, I corrected that, and the focus shifted.

    Night Fourteen

    Pizza and Kukri failed (by plan again) to kill Chaotix. Doctor creation efforts were in full swing. CR once again survived a murder attempt without using his luck as Split protected him. 'Blade renewed his efforts with a purposefully failed attack against a completely inoffensive name -- but the attack ended up getting him killed a night later.

    Day Fifteen

    There is no luck against lynching. Crazed Rabbit and Sasaki, having both earned the enmity of the town for different reasons, were tied and offed on the same session. 'Khaan, as Director, might have saved one or both had he wished, but did not do so. I was surprised at that actually. At this point there was no way to avoid the noose himself as the town had already judged him as "surplus to need' if not actively as a mafioso. Still, he was scrambling to do what he could and had not been part of a family.

    Night Fifteen

    ACIN's youtube clip with it's blasphemous title was all our little grey-eyed killer needed as a trigger. YLC didn't get to do that write-up (which is why it was the weakest of his kills) but I did try to keep the basic spirit of things in place. The Vig-team failed to kill Haudegen do to the latter's amazing luck. Haudegen paid Kukri back with interest for the attempted kill by offing him later. I kept the beer un-spilled to honor Kukri's tradition.

    Day Sixteen

    Sigurd filled in the particulars later on, but Chaotix was a goner from early in the day. Having exhausted the need to create doctors and now convinced that Split was the doctor who'd changed sides, the townie mob sent Chaotix to his maker.

    Night Sixteen

    Prole issued her final order (confirmed by replacement G-man Louis) and she and slash kidnapped the newly-pinko doctor Split and took him away for a little rendition-interogation. Split had stared pizza into inactivity, but that really never mattered. Haudegen continued his solo efforts, removing Tratorix from play. It was to be his last hurrah. It was also a send-off night for YLC. Sigurd had been designated a target for his blatant manipulation of "God's will" by posting stuff that he KNEW would be trigger material. Gibs would have slid by if he hadn't more-or-less confirmed that he HAD said that. Once it was confirmed, YLC got two kills to try. The second, against a seated Director, was also fatal. Only a SK or the like has a chance to get through the Director's protection, but even they carry a high risk of death in doing so. This time, YLC didn't get lucky. Still, the send off gave this night some verve in what had become something of an anti-climax.

    Day Seventeen

    I think the town was being a little "pissy" here. At this point, there was really no solid reason to think that 'Khaan was the remaining Don. They were aiming for a double lynch just so that they could have a "clean sweep" mentality. I had decided as long ago as Capo I that Fermanagh would not break ties -- too much temptation to influence the story. Therefore, I sent them back to the vote. I expected it would be Haudegen, but they chose the least likely of the two. I suspect that the parties-that-were allowed/did it that way so that they could night-kill Haudegen rather than "just" lynch him.

    Night Seventeen

    Haudegen asked to withdraw if possible, acknowledging defeat. Five persons slotted to kill him included both Doctors: SSNeo, Double A; the CIA (Pizzaguy), White_Eyes:D (it would be his 12th kill attempt in 17 nights, something I am virtually certain is a townie record) and Joooray. With Jooray missing, their orders could at least be "technically" thought of as uncoordinated (though I usually would have let them stand as sufficient personnel were present), so I took the opportunity to accept Haudegen's "tipping of the king," and use the narrative of an escape in defeat. I actually think it makes for a smoother ending.

    Congratulations to all who played, it was a fine experience. I'd appreciate feedback from those of you with an eye for things. What could be better or different for C4 and so on. Thanks again.

    -- Seamus

    Last edited by Seamus Fermanagh; 10-12-2009 at 20:43.
    "The only way that has ever been discovered to have a lot of people cooperate together voluntarily is through the free market. And that's why it's so essential to preserving individual freedom.” -- Milton Friedman

    "The urge to save humanity is almost always a false front for the urge to rule." -- H. L. Mencken

  17. #47
    Equicidal Maniac Member slashandburn's Avatar
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    Default Re: Capo di Tutti Capi - III (Summaries and Notices)

    New info has been posted.
    Parla più piano e nessuno sentirà, il nostro amore lo viviamo io e te,
    nessuno sa la verità, neppure il cielo che ci guarda da lassù.
    Insieme a te io resterò,
    amore mio, sempre così.
    Parla più piano e vieni più vicino a me, Voglio sentire gli occhi miei dentro di te,
    nessuno sa la verità, è un grande amore e mai più grande esisterà.
    Insieme a te io resterò,
    amore mio, sempre così.
    Parla più piano e vieni più vicino a me,Voglio sentire gli occhi miei dentro di te,
    nessuno sa la verità,è un grande amore e mai più grande esisterà.

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