Capo di Tutti Capi III [Concluded]

[discovery1]

discovery1 is a Luca, according to someone who claims 100% investigation ability.

Edit/correction: Miscommunication, they didn't say 100%, they just said Luca.

Uh huh.

[Double A]

[johnhughthom]

We only desire peace. We swear

Yeah right, coming here with your fancy smilies, acting like you own the place. We know all about your mafia games over there, with your sick fixation on cats.

[pevergreen]

And pizza guys.

Euggh.

[Seamus Fermanagh]

bad chance and circumstance
left the hollow ache
of sweet loneliness
and sour frustration
thanks for everything
thanks for everything
my one regret
the missing layer
of our failed protection
of our missed connections
take up a collection
a new army of salvation
of the leftovers and extras
of that longlost harvest season
of sweet loneliness
and sour frustration
thanks for everything
thanks for everything

-- Dirtminers (R.Worrick) “Sweet Loneliness”


Summary of Events, Night Three


Had things gone according to plan, Myrddraal would have been heading out of town already on a week-long trip. Fatlington’s closure and the return of the Committee had put a stop to all that. He wasn’t happy about it, but was grimly determined to see things through.

As he pulled carefully into traffic, Myrddraal was careful not to get himself into a situation where he could be sandwiched – he and Death is Yonder hadn’t really been close, but Myrddraal was the type of person who tried to learn from mistakes – especially other people’s. When the car in front of him slammed on its brakes, Eyeless had enough space to swerve into the oncoming lanes. One quick bootleg turn later and he was zipping back toward the Convention Center and looking in his rearview at the other car heading off the wrong direction.

He never expected the panel truck he was now following to be the real source of his trouble…until the back doors popped open to reveal a couple of trench-coated Johnny gunners. Long stereophonic bursts stamp paid to Myrddraal’s windshield, radiator, and any hope he had of controlling the vehicle. He was knocked out when the car collided with a telephone pole, bringing it to a complete stop. He never felt the single bullet administered as a coup-de-grace by the first killer, nor could he have seen the single long-stemmed yellow rose tucked gently under the windshield wiper by the second.


When Lord Winter saw the circle on the sidewalk in front of him, he stopped cold. Predicting his route wouldn’t have been a challenge – he stopped at the same coffee shop more nights than not on his way back to his brownstone – but he had no idea what this contraption could be.

A circle of golden sand six feet across lay in the middle of the sidewalk – oddly dry when compared to the puddles and ice scuts that marked most of the rest of the walkway. In the very middle of the circle was a dullish grey metal spike about 3 feet in height. Hanging above it was a weather balloon, distorted in shape as though it were filled with some heavy liquid or with sand.

In Fatlington, when you encountered the unusual, you prayed quickly to whatever God or gods you might still believe in and went for your gun. Winter had barely cleared his weapon when a flash of silver – the swift blade of a kunai – knocked it from his hands.

“No, no guns please.”

Winter stared at the dark figure at the far side of the circle, arm throbbing from the impact of the kunai on his colt, concentrating on not making any sudden moves.

“That was Curio’s, but it somehow didn’t get used in all the hustle and bustle.”

Lord Winter looked carefully at the second kunai held poised in the dark figure’s hand.

“And that’s mine?”

The figure stepped back a couple of steps. As he did so, and left the partial cover of the distended balloon, it was apparent that he was dressed in a long gloss-black leather trenchcoat that gleamed wherever light hit it, collar pulled way up and a black hat pulled low over his face. The only color relieving this was a small splash of reddish purple just above the brim of the fedora. Incongruously, the dark figure wore dark sunglasses that obscured what little of his face wasn’t covered by hat or coat.

“You get a gold star. By the way, why aren’t you wearing sunglasses?”

The man’s hand snapped forward in a blur, releasing the kunai as Winter dropped to one knee and went for his holdout weapon. The kunai went true, neatly severing the cable holding up the balloon and dropping it on the spike. The balloon burst, showering the golden powder which instantly combusted. This in turn ignited the magnesium in the metal spike producing a blinding actinic glare.

Winter had been far enough from the flash of fire to avoid being burned, but the glare of the burning magnesium was too much for his eyes. He never saw the dark figure make his escape as the throbbing after-image of the magnesium spike blotting out his vision. It would be mid-afternoon of the next day before he would see more than the vaguest of shapes.


Double A was heading for his car when the attack came. A quartet of Tommy gunners opened up from behind him and from across the street when he was only 30 feet or so from his car. Just as the gunmen behind him opened up, the thick door of a cab was opened immediately behind him, absorbing the shots that would have hammered into his back.

AA ducked low, using the car behind his as cover from the gunners across the street. His car was armored for protection – this was Fatlington after all – and he’d make it if he could get there. As he reached the side of his car, both of the Tommy gunners chasing him from behind made it around the outstretched – and obviously armored -- door of the now empty cab. Both of them were tackled by a masked figure hurtling out of the alleyway between two of the buildings, knocking their guns under the cab.

It was not enough. The remaining pair of Tommy gunners, unmolested, managed to get around the front and back of Double A’s armored car just before he could get the special lock open. Both yanked on their triggers almost in unison to release a hail of…nothing. Both bolts had jammed at exactly the same instant – defying all the odds in the book. The four assailants and the masked man fled in different directions as Double A pulled the 10-gauge pumper from his passenger seat. It would be hours before his pulse calmed enough for sleep.


Beskar had been varying his routes home since the troubles began. Tonight it was along the boardwalk, past the Hotel Abbatoir, and then a couple quick blocks to his apartment. He moved warily, ready for some threat, so when he saw the glint of metal on the roof of the beach bungalow a block ahead he dropped instantly.

The shot cracked through the air, head-high, where he would have been only a half-second previously. The second shot came from behind and nearly took him out. Beskar managed to turn his drop into a roll and kept going sideways just enough for the second shooter to miss. He kept rolling off the side of the boardwalk, dropping to the sand 7 feet down.

Instead of 7 feet it was 15 feet to the bottom of the watery hole that had been prepared for him. The two gunmen had been nothing more than the distraction. The third shooter could simply walk out from the shadows under the boardwalk and dispose of Beskar as neatly as shooting the proverbial duck swimming in a barrel. Nobody ever came. With police sirens coming closer to investigate the shots, both shooters simply faded into the night.

It took Beskar quite a while to work his way out of the two feet of sand and water at the bottom of the hole, even with the help of some of Fatlington’s finest. He was soaked and thoroughly miserable when the officers dropped him off at his apartment.


Morning Session, Beginning of Day 4

Reenk sat at the head table almost insolently, both feet up on the table and his fedora low over his eyes. Fermanagh wondered if he actually had heard a little light snoring coming from the director as he concluded his briefing.

“…anyway, that’s the best we can reconstruct the events of last night. Now, I also have the results of our first post-mortem investigations.”

“Both Quintus.JC and The Stranger were exactly what you’d have expected, just normal everyday Fatlings. We weren’t able to turn up any rumors of mafia involvement or anything else that seemed out of order. It appears we lost two good citizens that night.”

Fermanagh paused and wiped his brow.

“You’ve got to keep up your efforts folks, or Fatlington is doomed.”

“If you’re quite finished Commissioner?” Asked Reenk.

“Yes, Ree…er…Director. It’s your show now.”

“Of course,” Roink responded, in a tone that Fermanagh had announced something as obvious as that the sun sets in the West. Reenk shook his head ever so slightly. “Well, that’s a relief. I have to get down to Club30 and see to things with the day staff. Ever stop by the club, Fermanagh?”

“Well no. You see the cover charge is a little…”

“Yes, of course,” Reenk paused a moment. “and your wardrobe lacks a certain…pinache.”

Reenk then ignored the sputtering Fermanagh as he turned to the committee to remind them of the procedures for today’s lynch vote.


OOC

I’ve got family commitments tomorrow evening, so we’ll make the vote deadline 1300 Eastern on Sunday (1700 GMT). Remember to follow the procedures and get your vote counted. Lynch only on Day 4.

Investigation results and success/failure notifications will follow as quickly as possible, but not tonight as it’s late and I want to sleep. Selfish of me, but there it is.



The Cost of Life in Fatlington:

Attacked: Beefy187 (n1), DJGingivtis (n2), GSC (n2), Beskar (n3), Double A (n3), Lord Winter (n3),

Killed: Quintus.JC (n1), The Stranger (n1), Death is Yonder (n2), pevergreen (n2), Yaropolk (n2), Myrddraal (n3),

Lynched: Factionheir (d2), CountArach (d3), GeneralHankerchief (d3),

Wogged: None so far, so get active and keep it that way.

[Double A]

Holy that was close...

[johnhughthom]

Holy that was close...

Language young man.

[Beskar]

Please delete. :embarrassed:

[Double A]

Yeah well why do I feel like you would do the same thing if you were targeted and survived?

There's no way I'm gonna be able to sleep tonight after that.

[johnhughthom]

Vote:Beskar

Can't even post in the correct thread.

[Beskar]

Vote:Beskar

Can't even post in the correct thread.

Couldn't finish me off at night, now you want to kill me now, Mafia?

[seireikhaan]

YES, I MOVED THE POST SUCESSFULLY!


*i'll be back to accuse when i'm not smashed...

[Kommodus]

discovery1 is a Luca, according to someone who claims 100% investigation ability.

Uh huh.

Well OK then.

Vote: discovery1

[Sasaki Kojiro]

Vote:Disco




Double A needs to be looked at as well, have to wonder why he survived that. High chance of being a Don.

[Beskar]

Vote: discovery1

Also, not sure if this is the selecting round, but if so: Select: AskthePizzaGuy

[Double A]

Look a little closer at the write up. I doubt mafia can do that without killing the attackers and sending their privates to their relatives.

[atheotes]

Double A was heading for his car when the attack came. A quartet of Tommy gunners opened up from behind him and from across the street when he was only 30 feet or so from his car. Just as the gunmen behind him opened up, the thick door of a cab was opened immediately behind him, absorbing the shots that would have hammered into his back.

AA ducked low, using the car behind his as cover from the gunners across the street. His car was armored for protection – this was Fatlington after all – and he’d make it if he could get there. As he reached the side of his car, both of the Tommy gunners chasing him from behind made it around the outstretched – and obviously armored -- door of the now empty cab. Both of them were tackled by a masked figure hurtling out of the alleyway between two of the buildings, knocking their guns under the cab.

It was not enough. The remaining pair of Tommy gunners, unmolested, managed to get around the front and back of Double A’s armored car just before he could get the special lock open. Both yanked on their triggers almost in unison to release a hail of…nothing. Both bolts had jammed at exactly the same instant – defying all the odds in the book. The four assailants and the masked man fled in different directions as Double A pulled the 10-gauge pumper from his passenger seat. It would be hours before his pulse calmed enough for sleep.

Another vigilante group?

But the more important question might be who saved Double A...

[Double A]

I think Seamus said this round was only vote.

[Askthepizzaguy]

I know who saved both Double A and Beskar. Many thanks to all my protection volunteers.

It's not a selection round; Reenk is the Director.

[Double A]

Another vigilante group?

But the more important question might be who saved Double A...

Who wouldn't?

[seireikhaan]

Oh heck with it.

Question, pizza. You seemed awfully insistent that the town not lynch you. Awfully confident that the mafia would kill you. Very, very confident, as a matter of fact.

Almost as confident as you were that the town would lynch you when we talked in private:

Well, you must understand my suspicion of you when you've made posts like this before:

Yes, I know.

I ended up getting the unaffiliated wiseguy role this game, and I pondered joining a mafia family. After messaging a dozen people, I kept encountering townie after townie and more than a few wiseguys who were considering going the mafia route.

Well that's just perfect, because I know I am an early investigation target, and in a game with what might end up being 10 mafia families, I have zero chance of survival. The only way I could possibly end up on the winning side is to be a dead townie.

I bullied, begged, and prodded all the people on the fence that I could to commit themselves to the townie cause before I exposed them to the town. Too many of them admitted they were thinking about being mafia, so I have a few of them by the groin.

It appears we can even tell who was protecting people successfully, due to Seamus' writeup. That's at least... something. Plus, more people protected means less people dying, and more doctors.

And though I'm flattered by your offer, I believe you know my stance on large 'pro-town' groups. I've got a few people I'm cajoling with to figure out what're doing, but I think the best approach is going to be going back to the thread(assuming people get over this abstain binge).

Oh, and remember- Seamus waits about three turns or so before revealing the alignment of the deceased. Not sure if you'll live long enough to find out FactionHeir's.

I know. I made my bed, and now I'm going to be sleeping with the fishes. My hopes now rest on the town's success.

And this, of course:

I assume you have a group protecting yourself, no?

What's the point? Very shortly I'll be a lynch target. Wasted lynch, and of course, wasting people protecting me is wasted protection groups.

Just a few days ago, you were quite willing to accept the consequences of your actions and let the town lynch you. You claimed to not have even have protection despite being a ringleader of a veritable three ring circus, which is, of course, absurd. You claim that you have a vast number of protection rings going, and yet you wouldn't have yourself protected? Sending such information to people at night is of course nothing but obvious bait, and given your insistence that the town would lynch you, you really were trying to make me decide not to kill you in the event got an itchy trigger finger.

And now, you have claimed a non-100% investigation has found disco a luca. Just before the day phase has begun, when you would have had said results for quite some time. You claim you are mafia bait, and that the town should not lynch you, and you even offered a last second alternative. Not long after claiming to a stranger(me) that you are town bait, and baiting me to kill you on top of it. You make these moans about "woe is me, for I will be a persecuted hero", and yet, you have only just come under fire because of GH. You have made facades of anguished acceptance of your fate to different audiences, and yet, when pieced together, show an entirely different picture that you are very much desperate to keep alive.

Time for you to die, scum. Vote: Askthepizzaguy

And, of course, if you don't think there won't be three different mafia gangs all over an enemy's luca, you are quite mistaken.

[atheotes]

I know who saved both Double A and Beskar. Many thanks to all my protection volunteers.

It's not a selection round; Reenk is the Director.

I thought we can deduce from the write up the type of kill and protection...

Myrddraal death is by mafia with rose as calling card...
Attempt at Beskar seems like.... 3 wiseguys???
attempt at Lord Winter - i dont understand what happened...probably need to sleep

[Double A]

@Khaan and everyone else who is going to try to lynch ATPG: Ok this post isn't defensive no matter how it seems, I'm just using common sense. Ok.

Why would you want ATPG dead? If all 5 or more families want someone dead, isn't that a good thing for the town? ATPG is dangerous to the mafia and they know it. Sending him to Club 30 would be a really bad idea, plus he's trying to become a townie apparently. So what's the point in voting for a non-scum when there are scummier (yet largely unidentified) targets that are still on the loose?

Ok maybe it was defensive, but my point still stands.

[Askthepizzaguy]

Hi Shinseikhaan!

So let me get this straight: You're voting for me because I predicted that the town would be voting for me soon, and that was somehow wrong, so now you're voting for me.

I'm afraid I do not follow your logic.

[Double A]

I thought we can deduce from the write up the type of kill and protection...

Myrddraal death is by mafia with rose as calling card...
Attempt at Beskar seems like.... 3 wiseguys???
attempt at Lord Winter - i dont understand what happened...probably need to sleep

It seems likely that it was the mafia, since they think he'd try to protect ATPG during the night. Which is likely why they would try to kill me since I've done noting big for the town or tried to harm it in any way.

[seireikhaan]

Hi Shinseikhaan!

So let me get this straight: You're voting for me because I predicted that the town would be voting for me soon, and that was somehow wrong, so now you're voting for me.

I'm afraid I do not follow your logic.

No. I am voting for you for being a two faced person of highly dubious intent, who has been attempting to both keep the "private" fellers from going after you, and the "public" fellers from going after you, by using the same excuse that the other is going to kill you. Which means, of course, you really are quite intent upon staying alive. Plus, you started as a wiseguy and have one recorded kill, at the least.

[discovery1]

So close. Anyone still have that bandwagon smilie?

[a completely inoffensive name]

I smell something fishy. Although it's probably the salmon I just ate.

[Askthepizzaguy]

No. I am voting for you for being a slithering, two faced critter, who has been attempting to both keep the "private" fellers from going after you, and the "public" fellers from going after you, by using the same excuse that the other is going to kill you.

Uh.... wow. Khaan.... can I ask you a real serious question?

Are you blaming me for trying to prevent myself from being lynched or murdered?

Seriously... I don't understand how that's automatically a scummy or incorrect move in a game of mafia.

Which means, of course, you really are quite intent upon staying alive.

What a crime.

Plus, you started as a wiseguy and have one recorded kill, at the least.

Yeah, and the bit about me being a wiseguy was a big fat lie too. I believe this is old news.

Are you offended I didn't blurt out my real role to you right away, especially when YOU don't trust townie information networks? Come on man, it's a page right out of your own playbook.

Lynch me all you want, but your reasoning could stand a little more... reasoning.

By the way, I was investigated by the FBI last night. I'm waiting for them to come forward and decry me as being anti-Fatlington. I'm sure you'll be surprised when it... doesn't happen.

*i'll be back to accuse when i'm not smashed...

Take a breather.

[Beskar]

@Khaan and everyone else who is going to try to lynch ATPG: Ok this post isn't defensive no matter how it seems, I'm just using common sense. Ok.

Why would you want ATPG dead? If all 5 or more families want someone dead, isn't that a good thing for the town? ATPG is dangerous to the mafia and they know it. Sending him to Club 30 would be a really bad idea, plus he's trying to become a townie apparently. So what's the point in voting for a non-scum when there are scummier (yet largely unidentified) targets that are still on the loose?

Ok maybe it was defensive, but my point still stands.

Exactly.