Capo de Tutti Capi [Concluded]

[Seamus Fermanagh]

Night Six Summary


Kommodus was tired – exhausted even – after today's voting. He stumbled through his front door and went to the kitchen to pour a drink. Tonight would be a stiff glass of the absinthe he had brought back from France. The house was dark and clammy. The wind off the Atlantic was still rattling the shutters and the thick clouds of the fading Nor’easter still hid the moon and stars.

<< I hope this weather breaks,>> thought Kommodus, << the mildew will drive me bats if I can’t air this place out.>>

The howling winds and dim lighting aided those lying in wait for him. They had hidden in the long shadows, and took careful advantage of the noisy winds and Kommodus’ moment of relaxation over his drink. Kommodus was concentrating on relaxing - he put his mind to the soft cushion of his chair, the taste of the drink, the pleasant feeling of his long tensed muscles relaxing. He spilled his drink when he looked up and saw multiple shadows facing him. They did not look of this world. Perhaps it was his weary mind, but Kommodus pictured them as some sort of grim, dark statues come to life. Hats prevented what light there was from reaching their faces. When one spoke, it looked as though some faceless shade was addressing him.

"Your time is up. No longer will your evil harm this town. It is unfortunate you must go like this, but necessary."

Kommodus was not one to give up easily, and jumped to his feet to arm himself and counter-attack, but he was kicked back into his chair before he could get his balance. One of the figures raised a gun.

"So long."

Two quick shots through the center of mass kept Kommodus in his chair – and probably would have killed him in short order. The third and somewhat slower shot of the “Cooper Method” took him between the eyes and sped up the process. Another figure dropped a white glove and then the attackers faded away into the howling dark.


Across town, the howling winds masked the sharp report of the single gunshot Pannonian put through his right temple. His body would be found seated neatly in the shower with all of the resultant mess contained by the tiled walls. A neatly folded suit with all of the usual accessories had been laid on the bed with the typed label “For funeral/viewing.” The remainder of his possessions had been neatly packed in two steamer trunks with a notarized copy of his last will and testament on top. The only thing odd was a simple hand written note: “Honor is foremost and the needs of the community surpass those of the individual.”

Crazed Rabbit was sleeping the sleep of the sated and did not hear the intruders who stole in through the skylight of his tastefully appointed studio apartment. Neither did his companion. With the howling of the winds the soft snap of the first pane of glass as cut circle was removed from it just didn’t carry far enough to be heard.

The intruders stole softly across the oriental rugs Rabbit had laid on the parquet flooring – no nightingale would chirp to warn of their intrusion – and gathered around the bed. The companion – the intruders would comment later that they almost envied Rabbit as she had a pleasing combination of the best features of Rita Hayworth and that Jane Russell doll from Hope’s dentist flick – was quickly put under with chloroform.

The still sleeping Rabbit never woke. Silencers coughed repeatedly and the heavy caliber bullets were more than enough to kill him. The choice to attach the tin Texas Ranger star to his forehead using a staple gun was a little vicious, but Rabbit never felt it. When his companion finally awoke hours later and began the screaming that would shortly thereafter call the police to the scene, the intruders had long since faded into the wind-swept dark and made their own way home.


JimBob too was resting comfortably. He never heard the car pull up across the street from his one-floor bungalow by the beach. He never heard the bolt being pulled back on the Tommy gun. But he heard the shooting.

Before the gunman could even open fire, a hail of gunfire erupted from the bungalows neighboring JimBob’s. Glass shattering, tires bursting, the gunman gave up the attack as a lost cause and coaxed his crippled vehicle away from the scene. It would be found in the morning – serial numbers removed and free of prints – about a mile from JimBob’s home. JimBob still had a little trouble getting back to sleep.


Warluster was used to weird dreams – especially lately. He wasn’t sleeping too soundly either. He was worried about being attacked in his sleep and the noisy winds had startled him awake a half dozen times since he’d dozed off. This time, however, he’d been awakened by the shattering of his window by some form of small spear and a shout from below.

“Awaken Warluster! Face me if you dare!

Warluster looked out the window, carefully not getting too close. Below, in front of the building site for the new apartment across the street, was a figure dressed in a bright red anorak and wielding a long spear and a large round shield, its face concealed by an ancient helmet! <> thought Warluster.

“Your death is demanded,” shouted the figure! “Come forth!”

<> Warluster thought, <> Warluster slipped on his robe and racked a round into the chamber of his Colt. <>

Warluster bounded down the stairs and flung open the door to his row home. He glanced carefully to make sure no one was lying in wait and then strode down his steps to the sidewalk. He held his gun steadily, planning on careful shots to avoid the helmet and shield. The figure spun his spear in an arc and struck the ground with the point – snapping a small string that Warluster never saw. The string was connected to a control lever in the crane on top of the 14-story construction project across the street. The crane, in turn, held a 1.4 ton (or so) weight -- curiously shaped like some kind of flat-sided measurement weight -- suspended roughly 110 feet above Warluster’s head. As Warluster let out half a breath and prepared to squeeze the trigger the weight smashed him to paste, cracking the sidewalk beneath him into the bargain. The scarlet-clad spearmen quickly disappeared.

On each of the wide sides of the weight, message plates had been welded. The first read:

Duty
Moros
Omanes

The opposite side was somewhat more poetic:

Cowardice and feeble dreams, folly makes bold
The Athenians, and all they'd dearly hold
They would have at once to a prophet sold

Your "hero" butchered. Obey me.

Other than noting the names of several prominent citizens, the police officers at the scene could make no sense of it.


It was an hour shy of dawn, not that down seemed likely to be any brighter today than it had for the past week. The library was not officially open yet, but the desk clerk was always early and knew HughTower by sight, so more mornings than not he could be found having a coffee and reading the papers in the deserted reading room. HughTower was enjoying a quiet book in the library when he heard a door slam open and footsteps approach.

"HughTower! I have come for you! This is the end of your criminal career!"

A sudden glance gave him a glimpse of a man dressed for the damp cold walking towards the news lounge he was in - with a gun in his hand. HughTower quickly dropped his paper and slipped quietly into the library stacks. He could see the man continue down the middle aisle toward the lounge area, scanning to each side.

With each step, he came closer, and sweat stood out on HughTower's face. His heart beat so loud he thought he would be discovered by it. The footsteps of the stranger continued, but had slowed – one step on the floor, a soft and then another. The man was still scanning. Just as he passed by the other end of the stack of books that HughTower hid behind, HughTower dashed to the stack closest to the lobby door, which had already been passed by the figure.

HughTower made his way, as silently and quickly as he could, toward the circulation desk and the front door, glancing over his shoulder as he went. He passed the last of the massive lobby pillars and stood in front of the desk. He looked at the clerk and began to urge him to run, but the man standing there – no longer the kind soul who would let him in – spoke too soon.

"If it is your wish, you shall have no part in this."

He had a fierce, steady look in his eyes and stared at HughTower over the barrel of his gun. Hugh tensed to move but the stranger quickly squeezed the trigger. The first hit was not lethal - the gunman had aimed for and hit his kneecap. HughTower collapsed in agony, clutching for his destroyed knee. As he fell, the gunman shot his other kneecap. HughTower screamed in pain. The gunman hopped the desk, using the unconscious body of the desk clerk as a springboard, and walked over to Hugh. The shooter proceeded to kick him until his back was on the floor.

“Shhhhh…keep your voice down,” said the shooter, “This IS a library after all.”

Then the shooter shot him twice in the gut. The gunman looked down at the writhing, now-moaning figure.

Despite his pain, HughTower crawled, or rather tried to crawl, to the doors, but merely succeeded in flipping over. Groaning and cursing he began to drag himself slowly toward the door, leaving a swath of red on the gray marble of the lobby floor.

The second gunman, who had flushed HughTower out of the stacks, walked up to the feebly crawling HughTower, then pinned him in place with his foot.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said to HughTower. He then methodically shot HughTower in both shoulders and both elbows. Hugh screamed with each shot, and then lay there, barely breathing. “Don’t trouble yourself about anything.” He stripped off a white glove and dropped it on HughTower’s back.

Both watched as the blood flowed out of HughTower’s body; they watched as his feeble twitchings slowed, as his cries subsided, until finally he was still. The gunman began to walk quietly out.

“Bit of a mess on the lobby floor there,” said the ersatz desk clerk.

“True, but they shouldn’t have any trouble convincing the rest of the patrons to pay off their library fines,” said his partner.

They left quietly to head for the committee meeting.


Seamus Fermanagh faced the dwindling committee, his face as white as a sheet.

“Ahem…well now…it would appear that we didn’t do all that well lynching Lord Motep of Kendermore. Despite rumors to the contrary, we’ve been able to determine that he was no more than he claimed – an innocent townie.”

Seamus paused, his expression grim.

“This 5th day following TosaInu’s committee of vigilance was our most deadly yet. All told, 11 died that day: Banquo’s Ghost, Dutch_Guy, Hepcat, Ignoramus, MarcusBrutus, Lord Motep, Peasant Phill, Sigurd Fafnesbane, theRTWGuru, Ultrawar, and Zalmoxis. Our sources have been working overtime, and I regret to inform you that each and everyone of them was a Townie and not part of an mafia. There were rumors about a few of them – only a few – trying to be anything else, but even those we can’t confirm. One thing I can confirm is that Guru was one of my secret detectives. I think he passed on his information to a successor, but I can’t even confirm that.”

Seamus stared a bit before continuing.

“Between this night and the last, I am beginning to fear for the worst. You’ve got to lynch the bad guys today…you just have to!”

He left quickly, with the committee quickly breaking up. They would return that evening for the lynch decision.

OOC

The Butcher’s Bill so far:

Attacked: Proletariat (N1), Sasaki Kojiro (N1), Redleg (N2), Moros (N3), theRTWGuru (N3), JimBob (N6)

Lynched: Kralizec (D2) [mafia don], Beirut (D3) [mafia made], pevergreen (D4) [mafia don], Lord Motep of Kendermore (D5) [townie], The Stranger (D6)

Murdered: GeneralHankerchief (N1) [mafia luca], Stig (N2) [wise guy], AggonyDuck (N3) [wise guy], Major Robert Dump (N3) [mafia made], Caius Flaminius (N4) [townie], Sir Boo (N4) [wise guy], Sir Moody (N4) [townie] AndrestheCunning (N4) [wise guy], Dutch_Guy (N5) [townie], Sigurd Fafnesbane (N5) [townie], Ultrawar (N5) [townie], Crazed Rabbit (N6), HughTower (N6), Kommodus (N6) Warluster (N6)

Suicided: Ichigo, (D2) [townie], Tribesman (D2) [townie], Copperhaired Berzerker (N4) [townie], Banquo's Ghost (N5) [townie], Peasant Phill (N5) [townie], theRTWGuru (N5) [townie], Pannonian (N6)

WoGged: MarcusBrutus (D5) [townie], Hepcat (N5) [townie], Ignoramus (N5) [townie], Zalmoxis (N5) [townie]


Day 7 Voting Commences – Lynch Vote and Selection of Director for Days 8 & 9. Deadline: 1400 EST 1/30/7.

[Stig]

HughTower (N6)

He has been killed as he wanted to vote out Lurkers

And someone protected JimBob, even tho he seems to be lurking as well, only 13 posts

[Crazed Rabbit]

Curses! Murdered by some sleazy up and coming mafia!

I'll have my revenge, and clean this town of all murderous scum!

Crazed Rabbit

[Orb]

What the hell was up with that attack on Warluster?

No white gloves?

And how has the lone mafia family got no less than 4 attempts?!

4 attacks, 3 successes. Perhaps the one on Jimbob was just to scare us (with a single wiseguy)?

[Moros]

Is that a frame or a threat?

Tssk... MAfiosi these days. Whan did I frame someone bakc in the days. I even gave clues. pfft.

Edit: Jimbob was protected.
EDit2: is there a person who's name is duty?
EDit3; I don't get that murder whit my name in it. But I think it has the most clues. Someone made something out of it?

[Orb]

Is that a frame or a threat?

Tssk... MAfiosi these days. Whan did I frame someone bakc in the days. I even gave clues. pfft.

Edit: Jimbob was protected.
EDit2: is there a person who's name is duty?
EDit3; I don't get that murder whit my name in it. But I think it has the most clues. Someone made something out of it?

Not a clue.

@2 Dutch_guy has all the letters, albeit in a jumbled order, still, that's something for conspiracy theorists.

@1 Maybe they didn't have enough numbers.

[Moros]

Not a clue.

@2 Dutch_guy has all the letters, albeit in a jumbled order, still, that's something for conspiracy theorists.

@1 Maybe they didn't have enough numbers.

Nah, than the kill would have been posted or if it was it would have gone differently.

[Csargo]

I urge you to lynch Xdeathfire he has some kind of important role because Seamus hasn't WoGed him even though he has posted less than Zalmoxis has and he was WoGed. I think he is a good candidate for lynching for obvious reasons.

[Orb]

Start ye good olde LurkaLyncha bandwagon
Vote: Xdeathfire

[Caius]

Vote Sasaki ;)

[Louis VI the Fat]

Pannonian, that was noble but we needed all the townies that are still left.


Are there even enough townspeople left after this nights carnage to finally lynch some mafia? Vote: Sasaki

Or are we going to lynch some townie again like The Stranger?
Oh, and I wonder what Crazed Rabbit's obituary will read like.

[Kagemusha]

Another night passes by and there is no inflation on the mafia kills.I think its time to get rid of our "rogue detective" Sasaki,who doesnt help the town one bit. Vote Sasaki.

[Moros]

I think we should think well this time. One of the murders said something. All questions about that murder I will awser, now you can ask, please do. If it helps finding that guy that wants to frame me or threaten me to work for him.


Edit: pannonian was innocent. Damn it. Why couldn't he wait with killing himself? Why do you alwyas get info like this to late!? Sigh. I'm thinking of suiciding to, just that the mafiosi just can't get me. But oh well I guess I'll just will not give them a chance. I guess. sigh.

[Csargo]

It sad you can't see the obvious.

[Moros]

It sad you can't see the obvious.

Please elaborate.

[Don Corleone]

Well, I think I'm tied with Sasaki for suspicious behavior (my own is probably even more so). I apologize to everyone for being a bump on a log. I haven't been able to keep up to the monumental number of posts coming in because 1) I had an extended family visit for my daughter's first birthday and 2) work has been a zoo.

I'm surprised I'm not lynched, WOG'd or murdered by now. What can I say... clean living....

Anyway, I don't have a good handle on what's happened so far. I assure you my silence is not due to any nefarious puproses, and it hasn't affected the game one whit, I assure you.

I promise to be a better citizen of Fatlington from here on out and will begin anew, trying to contribute more.

In the absence of any other hard data, in any game he himself is not moderating:

Vote: Sasaki (It's ALWAYS him!)

[Louis VI the Fat]

Oh, I nearly forgot to unselect a mafia diretor and select a townie for director this time.

Select: Redleg.

[Crazed Rabbit]

Pannonian, that was noble but we needed all the townies that are still left.


Are there even enough townspeople left after this nights carnage to finally lynch some mafia? Vote: Sasaki

Or are we going to lynch some townie again like The Stranger?
Oh, and I wonder what Crazed Rabbit's obituary will read like.

Oh, you seem to be rather pleased with my death, aren't you?

You accused me of being a mobster, and lo and behold, I'm whacked by a mafia during the night.

How convenient, isn't it? You get someone else's mob to do your dirty work.

I encourage everyone to vote for this French mobster!

Crazed Rabbit

[doc_bean]

vote: Sasaki

Select:doc_bean

I trust no other

[Louis VI the Fat]

Oh, you seem to be rather pleased with my death, aren't you?

You accused me of being a mobster, and lo and behold, I'm whacked by a mafia during the night.

How convenient, isn't it? You get someone else's mob to do your dirty work.

I encourage everyone to vote for this French mobster!

Crazed Rabbit

I can't be the luca of Kralizec's and Beirut's mafia. I lynched them both.

I think you're suspicious, but I will need to await your obituary.

[GeneralHankerchief]

Oh, Rabbit's obit will come back as him either being a Made or a Luca. No need for suspense.

Either way, his Don(na) will now have less firepower.

[Crazed Rabbit]

I can't be the luca of Kralizec's and Beirut's mafia. I lynched them both.

I think you're suspicious, but I will need to await your obituary.

And might they not have encouraged you to vote for them when the situation became hopeless? And there are three families to begin with, and, it seems, another group has popped up.

Perhaps you work for the white glove mafia and wanted to get one of the obstacles in your path to victory removed without doing it yourself? Funny how you don't even consider that possibility.

Crazed Rabbit