Capo di Tutti Capi IV [Concluded]

[Askthepizzaguy]

I'm afraid I have two gangsters each, pointing tommy guns at all of you, as we speak. And your vehicles are all rigged to detonate as soon as you step out of them, so perhaps you should just move along.

[TheLastDays]

I think you played Capo for too long...

[Askthepizzaguy]

I think you played Capo for too long...

I was just about to say the same to you. If you like, I can give you a well-deserved rest.

Say good night, TLD.

[TheLastDays]

We'll see about that

And it's O!TLD! to you

[seireikhaan]

"Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury
Signifying nothing."
...Macbeth, 5.5 17-28
...William Shakespeare


Thirteenth Night -- The Streets of Fatlington


White eyes wasn’t much for sweets. His house was always stocked with a supply of wholesome foods, ranging from a variety of in-season fruits and vegetables, or else, thick breads and an assortment of canned fruits. So, it was with a puzzled look that he stared at the strange person standing in his doorway. The bell had been rung politely enough, but the person before him was quite odd. Clearly a tall man was standing with a large, white bed sheet in his doorway. The suit pants and sleeves could be seen hanging out. His request for a “treat” was quite odd for such a time.

Nonetheless, White eyes returned, holding a ripe red apple in his hand. “Do you mean something like this?” he asked. The person before him visibly recoiled, hissing.

“Devilry!” he screamed. “That is no treat! This means war! This means…. You deserve a trick!” A pair of tommy gun emerged from the crazed man’s cover. White eyes immediately slammed the door in his face, before sprinting to the back of the house. “You won’t escape me!” The crazed man screamed. “The neutral avenger shall have his treat!” A storm of bullets tore through the door, before it was kicked down. The man leaped through the splintered frame, looking about for the home’s owner. He let loose a random spray of fire from each weapon, the bullets tearing into the house’s walls. He gave a short pause. A loud bang indicated the back door being slammed behind a fleeing homeowner. “Excellent, excellent…” the avenger muttered to himself. “Now, the house is to myself. I know he’s hiding the treats here somewhere. Now, where to start…?”


Monk simply sat at the steps of the convention center, letting the crowd just filter out. He didn’t feel like going home tonight. It was a fair distance, as far as Fatlington is concerned anyways, and the car would just attract mob attention. No, no… this was best. At least, it was until about midnight.

With his back to the convention center’s cement wall, Monk had established a surprisingly decent sleep. He didn’t hear the pair of footsteps approaching him. He didn’t hear the gun cocked. Didn’t hear the small chuckle as the two assassins gave smart looks to each other. A loud shotgun shot rang through the air of the convention center. Monk was left there, still propped against the wall, a surprisingly content look on his face, in spite of the large hole in his chest. A simple trademark was left in Monk’s lap- a photo of the icy Alaskan coastline, with the words “Seward’s Folley” written at the bottom.


The night was similarly quiet for Yaropolk. He had ceased his vigilance ages ago, and instead greeted possible doom with a sort of malaise and acceptance. He arrived at his home, and quickly prepared for a long night’s sleep. He turned the lights off, and simply plopped onto the mattress, still in his clothes. Much like Monk, he didn’t hear the group that entered his doorway. The band of five tiptoed their way through the house, and up the stairs to the bedroom. When they opened the door to find their target snoozing away, they sighed a bit in relief. Each one pulled a lead pipe from the inside of a jacket, and the five quickly descended on the prone target, and delivered a swift, but brutal death.


Meanwhile, across town, Lewwyn was not quite ready to submit to imminent doom. He was driving briskly down a little-used side road, intent on reaching a safe place. However, his venture had not been unnoticed. A black, armored car had been following for nearly ten minutes. They were neither engaging, nor letting him out of their sights. If Lewwyn increased his pace, it kept up. Hence, he kept a steady pace, traversing the increasingly dark side streets of Fatlington.

Finally, he found a street that was completely unlit, the lights evidently a casualty of the conflict. He pulled to a stop. Lewwyn opened his door, and immediately made a crouched spring for an alleyway, to lose his pursuers. However, a pistol shot rang out in the night, and Lewwyn collapsed to the pavement when a single bullet pierced his right knee. The two in pursuit were already on foot, and found a howling Lewwyn writhing in the darkness. Lewwyn glared at the shadows which stood over him, finally gathering his senses from the pain. In spite of the near darkness, he could see the gleam from their new weapons- long combat knives. One immediately plunged down into Lewwyn’s chest, and pinned him down with the force of the stab. The other immediately began removing Lewwyn’s shoes. Despite his best effort, Lewwyn couldn’t remove the man pinning him, couldn’t remove the knife from his chest, and couldn’t stop the man who began to carve at his toes….


Beefy found himself in a bit of a pickle. Two assailants had been chasing him up and down the street he lived on for a good ten minutes. One was insisting on tossing sticks of lit dynamite as though they were grenades, while the other madly raced around after the poor man with a knife. There was no reprise, only continued running, as the knife-wielding lunatic seemed to never tire, and the other seemed to never be short of more explosives. But a saving grace came to him at least, as an armored car wheeled into the street from behind the attackers. A single figure stepped out, pistol ready and aimed. The crazed attackers immediately turned their heads backwards. A single warning shot was all it took to send them scampering away. Beefy just collapsed in a heap on the street. “What did Beefy ever do to them…?” he asked himself.


For Secura, the night was young. It was reward in its own right to peruse the streets on foot, looking for whatever might chance by. In good times, it usually yielded a possible new friend, or at least the entertainment of watching a drunkard stagger back from Club 30. But tonight, in very different times, she had found a very different crowd. Three figures stood before her on the street, wearing white masks that made a very good imitation of porcelain. One was flipping a silver coin with leisure, likely the result of many hours of practice. The two on each side advanced slowly, as Secura backed slowly up. The two reached for the insides of their coats.

BANG

Secura flinched as she heard a gunshot, but she felt no pain. A new figure had emerged from an alley behind the three, and aimed a warning shot just over their head. As the three turned slowly, Secura made a run for it down the street. But when the three had turned themselves fully, the lone gunner had melted back into the shadows of the alley, lost to the eye.


The Abbatoir was always a generous sort of place, if you knew how to ask. It was with such knowledge that The Stranger checked himself in. The man at the counter gave him a friendly sort of smile, as though he was in on a joke of some sort. The Stranger shook his head, and headed for the elevator. He stopped before it, waiting for the doors to open. Finally, a faint ping indicated that it had made its way to the bottom floor. Two folks in trench coats were waiting inside, grinning.

Each drew a hand gun from their coats with lightning speed, and it was only by equally quick reflexes that The Stranger rolled to the side. The Stranger immediately ducked for the side door. The two gunmen broke for the main lobby, but a loud gunshot sent them scattering back into the cage. The man at the desk had hefted a shotgun, and was leveling it at the two. One quickly started hammering the button to take the lift up, and it complied, taking them away from the irate desk man. As for The Stranger, he couldn’t help bug grin as he scampered into the street, thankful for the Abbatoir’s protection once more.


The roulette table wasn’t being kind to Sturmhauke. Following his short adventure as Director, he’d taken to gambling as a way of dissolving his moroseness over the situation. Things had been going pretty well over the last few nights. He’d taken the table to town the first night, and had been breaking even since then. But tonight… well, it was probably a night to forget. All those winnings had gone down the drain following an incredible run of double zeroes. It was with a deal of sorrow that he finally called it a night, and started to drag his beaten, sorry hide from the casino.

It seemed, however, that sometimes, even lady luck can feel bad. As Sturmhauke trudged down the street, an armored car whipped around the corner, spraying bullet fire from the nearside. Despite only a few feet of distance separating the two, only a single stray bullet found its target. It struck Sturmhauke in his right shoulder. The car ultimately overshot, trying to recover its position, but instead flipped onto its side. Sturmhauke just stood his ground for a few seconds, so confused he didn’t notice the wound in his shoulder. Finally, pain alerted him to it, and he immediately took off at a sprint to Mercy for a bit of medical care, rest, and relaxation.


For Scottishranger, it was a similar snag of fate that awaited him at the end of his journey. As he wheeled around a corner, his car was sideswiped from the left by another vehicle. His own car twisted around, screeching to a halt. The door had been crushed inwards, stunning Scottishranger for a few seconds. The other vehicle was less lucky, having screeched into the nearby pastry shop. Gathering himself, Scottishranger winced as he found several shards of his window lodged into his forearm. Fortunately, nothing was bleeding too badly. He was sure it wasn’t anything the good folks at Mercy couldn’t patch up in a night or two.



09:24AM, Friday, 11 November 1951
The Executive Meeting Room (Small Ballroom)
Fatlington Convention Center
Fatlington, New Jersey


"And that's all, folks," Commissioner Fermanagh said, before mopping his brow once more. "Now to finish up with the usual postmortem reports. Your lynch choice, Edse, was not just an upstanding citizen. He was a surgeon who had taken it upon himself to protect us from the continuing attacks by the mob. That he was selected with such a wide margin... is troubling, I must admit. He paused, going farther down the list.

"Now, let's see. As for the other people you killed, Craterus was a fairly normal townsman. He may have had some connections with shadier folks, but I don't think that is much news anymore. Similarly, ULC was a decent, normal person as well. But, on some better news, Peasant Phill was a Don! As well, we've determined that Sasaki was also a Don! I can only hope this helps us narrow down our suspects, and that we can finish off the leaders of these scum!" With that, the Commisioner gave the reigns back to Director Askthepizzaguy, to start up the day's events.


OOC

Day Fourteen begins. You are voting to lynch.

Phase ends:

Feedback PMs will be out within a few hours. As always, PM me if you are expecting a promotion after they go out. Apologies for the great delay, thank you once again for the patience. One last thing- People need to vote, or the wogs will have to come down. Sending night orders will not be enough.


Attacked = 53: Askthepizzaguy (n1, n2, n4, n5, n8), Raskolnikov (n1), Slash and earn (n1, n6), slysnake (n1, n3), Earthling (n1), a completely inoffensive name (n2), Master Necromanver (n2), Cahoma (n2), El Barto (n2), Montmorency (n2, n4), Chaotix (n2, n3, n11, n12), taillesskangaru (n3), Secura (n3), Ameranth (n3), Craterus (n3), Cecil XIX (n3, n6), johnhughthom (n4), Ishmael (n4), Drunk Clown (n4, n5), Psychonaut (n5), Suburban Plankton (n4), Sasaki Kojiro (n4), scottishranger (n4, n10), edse (n5), Erebus (n5, n6), Diana Abnoba (n6, n10), J.D. (n6), Zack (n6), Camikaze (n7), Hero di Classico (n7), Diamondeye (n7, n9), guiri (n8), Khazaar (n8, n9, n11), Riedquat (n8), robbiecon (n8), Scienter (n8 x2), sturmhauke (n8), Jarema (n9), Oh! TheLastDays! (n10), qlyphz (n10, n12), Psychonaut (n11), Crazed Rabbit (n12), Erebus (n12), BillMC (n12), Secura (n13), Beefy (n13), white eyes (n13)

Wounded = 18: Slysnake (n1, n3), Lord Brennus (n3), Tratorix (n4), edse (n5), Erebus (n6), Psychonaut (n6), Choxorn (n7), dcmort93 (n7), Zack (n7), guiri (n8), Monk (n8), Sasaki (n9), Lewwyn (N11), Neri (N11), Scottishranger (n13), Sturmhauke (n13),

Killed = 55: Captain Black Adder [townie] (n1), Pharoah [townie] (n2), Moros [luca] (n2), ELITEWARMAN8GINGYBREADMENMILK [townie] (n2), TinCow [detective] (n3), Xenoneb [townie] (n3), El Barto [detective] (n3), Arjos [FBI chief] (n3), Ameranth [wiseguy] (n4), Lord Winter [wiseguy] (n4), Suburban Plankton [detective] (n5), slysnake [townie] (n5), Lord Brennus [townie] (n5), Bow-wow-wow [townie] (n5), ByzantineKnight [townie] (n6), Kagemusha [serial killer] (n6), Tratorix [FBI] (n6), Raskolnikov [wiseguy] (n6), Nictel [wiseguy] (n6), J.D. [wiseguy] (n6), Visorslash [communist leader] (n7), Cecil XIX [townie] (n7), Drunk Clown [luca] (n7), Johnhughthom [wiseguy] (n7), Jolt [Made] (n7), Romanic [wiseguy] (n7), fubbleskag [doctor] (n8), Ibn-Khaldun [townie] (n8), Memnon [townie] (n8), robbiecon [townie] (n8), Andres [Special Agent] (n8), Camikaze [Made] (n8), Frozen in Ice [wiseguy] (n8), woad&fangs [townie] (n9), Zack [townie] (n9), Zim [Luca] (n9), Choxorn [townie] (n9), dcmort93 [townie] (n9), Diamondeye [wiseguy] (n10),
AggonyKing [townie] (n10), God Emperor [made] (n10), Skotsko [made] (n10), slash and earn [townie] (n10), thefluffyone93 [rogue detective] (n10), Craterus [townie] (n11), Peasant Phill [Don] (n11), Sasaki [Don] (n11), ULC [townie] (n11), Khazaar (n12), Johhog (n12), qlyphz (n12), Lewwyn (n13), Monk (n13), Yaropolk (n13)


Lynched = 11: Earthling [townie] (d2), a completely inoffensive name [townie] (d3), Subotan [wiseguy] (d3), Major Robert Dump [wiseguy] (d4), Ishmael [communist] (d5), Montmorency [wiseguy] (d6), landlubber [Made] (d8), Captain Blackadder [townie] (d9), Riedquat [townie] (d10), Edse [surgeon] (d11), Populus Romanus (d12), Crazed Rabbit (d13)

Wogged = 4: bestrfcplayer (n6), cpdwane [townie] (n4), Master Necromanver [Don] (n4), taillesskangaru [townie] (n4)

Added: Autolycus (d4)

Active:

Askthepizzaguy, Autolycus, B Ray, Backwards Logic, Beefy187, Believer, Beskar, BillMc, BSmith, Cahoma, Chaotix, Clitsome, DaveShack, Death is yonder, Diana Abnoba, Double A, Erebus, fyremarble, GamezRule, gibsonsg91921, gnarleycharlie, Guiri, hero di classic, Ironside, Jarema, Johhog, kennigit, Khazaar, Krill, LazyMcCrow, Lewwyn, Neri, Nightbringer, Niklas, O!TheLastDays!, Psychonaut, qlyphz, Renata, Scienter, scottishranger, Secura, Seon, shlin28, Sigurd, Silver Jan, SisterCoyote, Sprig, sturmhauke, The Stranger, White_eyes:D, Winston Hughes, Xehh II

[classical_hero]

vote:Secura She had some protection and therefore she must be eliminated.

[Montmorency]

As well, we've determined that Sasaki was also a Don!

Sasaki you scoundrel.

Screw it, I'm posting this for posterity.

So he's the Corleone Don? Wow. Should I reveal him?

He is?

Why didn't you tell me sooner?

Just in case I get knocked off:

A. That Corleone email you posted replied to me throughout 4 o clock, as did Sasaki (in PM).
B. This email correspondence with the Pentangelis:

Date: Sun, 25 Sep 2011 14:05:41 -0700

Which family are you? There are no Pentangelis in Fatlingotn...

Not that you're aware of, Sasaki. But with the number of recruits we're getting, we'll soon be the biggest family in town.

Do as you will, but don't say I didn't warn you. You've been had.

I have to say that Sasaki convinced me of his pro-townness.

[Seon]

Vote: Scottishranger.

Come on, it's not THAT difficult to die, last of the Pentangeli.

[Earthling]

I have to say that Sasaki convinced me of his pro-townness.

It's not like everyone shouldn't have known he was a member of one of the original families since Day Two. He even went post after post going "This is what the behavior of a scum is." *does that in next post*

[Askthepizzaguy]

Actually, I was correct. Sasaki was never the Corleone Don.

He began as an unaligned Made, believe it or not. I doubt there were very many of those in the game, but he told me that's what he was. He formed the Pentangeli family after some pretense at being a Corleone Made. Scottishranger was right there with him, along with several others.

He wasn't a starting family, he was an emergent one.

[Montmorency]

Then this response...

Not that you're aware of, Sasaki. But with the number of recruits we're getting, we'll soon be the biggest family in town.

how tricksy.

[Askthepizzaguy]

Then this response...

how tricksy.

I know who sent you that message too. The fake Pentangeli guy was amusing for all involved, especially Sasaki since he was actually becoming a Pentangeli.

I care not to reveal him because he's still alive and still being extremely amusing.

[Jarema]

Vote: ScottishRanger

[Diana Abnoba]

Scottishranger is not as immediate a threat, now that he can't vote or do anything tonight, because of his injuries. But Secura is a rogue and was protected last night, so time for her to go. Vote: Secura

[Death is yonder]

Well, Seon, I didn't know that you were in cahoots with the mafia, and that the mafia was so disorganized.

Why, they've already forgotten all about the Pentangeli don who took over Sasaki.

Vote: Chaotix

Or maybe they've finally accepted what I've been trying to tell Cahoma for many phases, that being led along like sheep isn't going to get you the win, unless you are Stracchi of course.

Its a sad day that I've got to do the mafia's work for them in my own self interests, who knew that lynching a don could be the best and worse option

[Death is yonder]

Scottishranger is not as immediate a threat, now that he can't vote or do anything tonight, because of his injuries. But Secura is a rogue and was protected last night, so time for her to go. Vote: Secura

Well that's all very good plans and all Diana, but you are forgetting something here very important.

War is coming, and face it, you still need our help to win. You aren't exactly earning yourself brownie points by lynching townies. You aren't even the dominant family at the moment. Mail it to my account please, Mister Corleone. Six-Double four-two-two-double zero.

Perhaps its time to look three moves ahead and realize that you're whacking your plank out of boredom and for kicks, damaging it, when little do you know, there's a river ahead, and you're going to need that plank soon, only to realize that its breaking apart and that if you aren't careful, its going to fall into the rushing rapids, you with it.

Times running out, we can lynch a Pentangeli, or we can continue working towards destroying your future.

I'm fine with both, really

*glances at the back*

I said curtains open! Its time for the grand unveiling!

So what will it be

[Askthepizzaguy]

I hear that you guys have a tank now.

Now that's impressive.

[Death is yonder]

*Realigns barrel to point towards the director's office*

So you've noticed.

[Cahoma]

No mafia are going to let themselves be intimidated by the puny town. You are desperately trying to cause the war to start sooner, because that will, atleast, give the town a small chance.

[Death is yonder]

You keep telling yourself that son.

I'm going to give you a sweet. Free of charge, no cost.

Look around you, and tell me what do you see? I see a brewery all encompassing this city of Fatlington, its sowing the seeds of fear, reaping the harvest of betrayal, and brewing the drought of death.

You sir, are going to be left behind.

*Fumbles around in coat pocket*

I'm going to give you a ticket.

Don't waste it.

[Cahoma]

Yes yes yes. Keep repeating the same thing over and over again.

[Death is yonder]

Yes yes yes. Keep repeating the same thing over and over again.

Yeah yeah yeah yeah. I was told that several days ago.

We'll see how it goes.

We'll see.

Really Cahoma?

One might say that it was... the mafia calling the townie a scumbag

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

I'm sorry I couldn't resist

[Cahoma]

Nonsense posts get a generic response.

[Death is yonder]

If I wanted something generic I would pay for it

[BillMc]

Well, Seon, I didn't know that you were in cahoots with the mafia, and that the mafia was so disorganized.

Why, they've already forgotten all about the Pentangeli don who took over Sasaki.

Vote: Chaotix

Or maybe they've finally accepted what I've been trying to tell Cahoma for many phases, that being led along like sheep isn't going to get you the win, unless you are Stracchi of course.

Its a sad day that I've got to do the mafia's work for them in my own self interests, who knew that lynching a don could be the best and worse option

Vote: Chaotix

I can get down with that.

[LazyMcCrow]

If I wanted something generic I would pay for it

Now that is a quote

vote: Chaotix

[gnarlycharlie]

it's time for Corleone and Cunio to stand together. Stracchi needs to go.

town, here's a tasty morsel for you.

vote: fyremarble

[guiri]

Vote: GnarlyCharlie

[Krill]

vote: fyremarble

Bye fyremarble

[Double A]

I respectfully disagree with you, Krill.

vote: Chaotix