Chicago Jazz mini mafia [Concluded]

[Splitpersonality]

It was a cold winter, evening, date December 20th, 1934. The cool air outside was a sharp contrast to the smooth warm sounds emminating from a nearby jazz club. The streets were mostly empty, save for a lone man walking down the street, carrying with him a rather large case, strapped to his back, and in his right hand a large bow.

The man pulled his scarf up over his face, "ing snow, ing alarm not going off, ing bass being so ing heavy..." he muttered to himself, as he walked.

He arrived at his destination, and walked up the alleyway to the side entrance to the club, he knocked twice and a man poked his head out.

"Can I help you?" the large bouncer asked flatly.

"Yeah, you can let me in before I freeze to death, if you'd be so kind." the man replied.

"Sorry buddy, you're gonna have to go through the front unless you're playing tonight." the bouncer replied as he started to close the door.

"Why the else do you think I have this bass on my back?" the man stuck his foot in the door, then his free left hand and pushed it open, "So let me in!" the man pushed through and was immediately met with the warm air of the club, and the smell of cigarettes. He pulled off his scarf, and his hat and looked at the bouncer.

"Hey, who do you think you are pal?" the bouncer stood in front of him, preparing to punch his face in.

The man with the bass removed his coat, placed all his outerwear together and threw it at the bouncer, "The name's James Archibald, and I think you best let me in so my band can get on that stage and play." he said flatly.

The bounced caught the coat with one hand, and looked at the band list on the clipboard in his other hand. He sighed, before showing the rude man where the rest of his band was.

--------


Chicago Jazz mini mafia!

I've been dying to do some writeups, and I dearly love jazz, so I figured what better way to satisfy both cravings than to have a Jazz mini mafia, set in the 30s!

Though the game is set in 1934, the music won't always have been produced by that time, but it'll be jazz, soft, smooth jazz, nonetheless!

7 people, unique roles and motives, but essentially it's 1 mafia v 6 town, I promise it's much simpler than my MGS: Mafia game :P

Expect overly complicated writeups for an extremely simple premise!
Hurry up, sign up now and be part of Splitpersonality's Jazz Octet!

Rules! Yeah we got rules, what about it!

1) No PM quoting, or paraphrasing. You can claim any role, but no backing it up with evidence. (The exceptions will be illustrated IN the PMs.)
2) No out of thread communication, at all.
3) Dead players are DEAD, they may talk and give ideas but may not PM or reveal anything.
4) Be good sports, don't get too angry (like I do), it's just a game and it's all for fun.
5) Anything else I come up with may be posted here before/during the first day/night phase of the game, so be aware of that.





Sign ups: 7/7 (Closed)
Guitar-ander3.1
Double bAss
Snareandburn
Cha-rlie Parker-otix
White_eyes:D
Chicag-otes
CulturedJazzFan

[Iskander 3.1]

I miss Chicago in the winter. IN

[Double A]

In!

[slashandburn]

I am in.

[Chaotix]

Innage.

I demand that my personal death song be "Take the A Train".

[Splitpersonality]

Hahaha nah bro, I'm gonna make your death song much worse.

Tiger rag


Hold that tiger..

Hold that tiger...

Hold that tiger...


EDIT

I totally forgot how good this song really is... Take the A train - Duke Ellington

[White_eyes:D]

In

[atheotes]

count me in

[Splitpersonality]

Alright, one more and we can start.

[Cultured Drizzt fan]

in!

[Splitpersonality]

Okay, we have enough people but I"m going to hold off starting it until I return home, as it'll keep me in a good set to be updating the game when I return home from school and stuff.

[Splitpersonality]

I'm sorry guys, there's some stuff going on right now, I will start the game tomorrow morning/afternoon, I really can't think straight or even begin to think about this game right now...

Sorry for the inconvenience.

[Splitpersonality]

The back alley of a club, downtown Chicago, December 20th 1934.

James Archibald opened the back door to the club, and stared out into the snowy back alley. He fastened his coat, and pulled his scarf up. The warm air and soft music of the club yet again contrasted the cold snowy streets of Chicago, but it mattered none, he was riding on the adrenaline rush of another good show, the slight drunkenness of some good drinks, and the pleasant tones of a warm, flatwound strung archtop guitar, complimented beautifully by a deep bass. He was in heaven at this moment, and was sad to be leaving the rest of the band like he was, but he had to get some sleep that night.

He propped the door open from the outside as he lifted his bass, and placed it outside, and leaned it against the wall. He stepped out, closed the door behind himself and picked up his bass, but halfway down the alleyway be paused, and patted himself, searching for something.

"Ah... ... I think I left my bow in there..." he cursed, then sighed, turning on his heels to walk back to the club.

He knocked gently on the door, "Hello? Bouncer? I think I left my bow in there... Hello? Anyone?"

He grabbed the handle and pulled the door towards himself, perhaps it wasn't locked, he didn't remember locking it, and if no one was there it must've been open. As he pulled the handle, someone from the otherside kicked the door quite hard, Archibald went flying backwards, and landed behind-first in the snow.

He brushed the snow off himself, and looked up, rather annoyed at this point he shouted at the large figure in the door.

"Hey you, hole, what's the big idea? Knockin' me down like this."

The man hopped out of the doorway and stepped over Archibald, reaching down and offering him a hand.

"Er, sorry about that." the man said

"Yeah, you better be... ing idiot..." Archibald said, taking the man's hand, and began to stand up.

He was met with a swift punch to the nose, which promptly broke it, with a gross crunch.

This punch, in combination with the alcohol in his system, caused Archibald to fall backwards, and become disoriented. He was too disoriented to stand up, or see his attacker pull out a small caliber snub-nose pistol and load a single bullet into it. He was far too disorientated then, to stop the man from placing the gun on his left temple, and pulling the trigger.


His assailant reached into his coat, pulled out the missing bow, and placed it on the bassist's chest, he then ran one way down the alleyway, and disappeared.

-------

The members of the band were gathered in the alleyway, the body in the center of their small circle.


They had all heard the shot from inside the club, and came rushing out at an instant. They were sitting in the backstage room, mostly talking, and had heard nothing save for the fatal shot.

For a long time they stood there, before someone finally spoke up.

"I think...." the man sighed, "I think one of us is responsible for this.."

The rest of the band was shocked, who could it have been?

"and I think we need to figure out who."



They all stood around, glancing suspiciously at each other. It seemed as if they were going to vote it out, and hopefully find the murderer was.





Townie Role PM Format:

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

You are:

Unique Name - Town

Specific story regarding how you came to live in chicago, what instrument you play, your general character and other details.

Good luck.

Regarding roles, you may reveal your name, your instrument in the band, and your story. NO direct quoting, no PMs outside the game, unless they are to me or through me in a specific case or two.

Of course no screenshots either.

Good luck everyone.


Alive: 7/7
Iskander 3.1
Double A
Slashandburn
Chaotix
White_eyes:D
Atheotes
CDF

Dead: 0/7


Begin day 1. Phase will end 9:00 PM EST tomorrow (Tuesday September 28th)

[Cultured Drizzt fan]

my jazzy friends let us relent!

Vote: abstain

[Splitpersonality]

Also, if there are any questions about your role, just send me a PM :D

[Chaotix]

This ain't cool, man. Who's gonna play bass wit' us now?

Vote: Abstain

I'mma hold my judgement till I hear all o' youse speak.

[Double A]

Yaaaar!

Hey anyone listen to Charlie Parker?

[slashandburn]

Agreed, man we should wait. Vote:Abstain

[Iskander 3.1]

Sweet, let's go to B Dubs.

[White_eyes:D]

*stops playing on his Saxaphone* Killing is not Jazz Vote:abstain

[Double A]

Hey anyone seen Louis lately?

[Double A]

vote: No lynch

Death isn't good. Unless the victim is a Yankees fan.

[atheotes]

I cant believe that the man who gave me my opportunity is dead....Drumming will never be the same again without him in front of me...still we must use caution before we condemn anyone.

Vote: No Lynch

OOC: Can everyone post what musical insturment they play?

[Iskander 3.1]

Angrily sets his tenor sax down

What the 's the matta wit you? The only ing good team in baseball and you have to make a comment like that? What's the matta wit you? Just jealous cause da Bambino walked all over your Cubs in '32?

Vote: Double A

(OOC: I hate the Yankees. See here for why. Go Brew Crew! Well next year, maybe.)

[Splitpersonality]

Oh man, sorry guys I totally passed out in my bed, just woke up.


No Lynch 2 - (atheotes, Double A)


Double A - 1 (Iskander3.1)



The men shifted nervously where they stood, they all looked quite nervous, and by the end of the day decieded that enough men had died the previous night, they would take one more night to think before reconvening in the morning.


Alive: 7/7
Iskander 3.1
Double A
Slashandburn
Chaotix
White_eyes:D
Atheotes
CDF

Dead: 0/7

Begin night 1, phase will end 9pm EST Wednsday 30th, orders are due to me by then.

[Double A]

Angrily sets his tenor sax down

What the 's the matta wit you? The only ing good team in baseball and you have to make a comment like that? What's the matta wit you? Just jealous cause da Bambino walked all over your Cubs in '32?

Vote: Double A

(OOC: I hate the Yankees. See here for why. Go Brew Crew! Well next year, maybe.)

Hey I can't help it, being from Baaaston if you're notta Sox fan you're dead in a day:dunno:

[White_eyes:D]

I can't believe, I am going to do this...

Vote:No lynch "We have had enough bloodshed, anymore and I will be out of my groove"...

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

And yes, I will not vote for anyone....makes this much harder....but my guy seems like the type to do this

[atheotes]

Voting in the night phase?

FOS: White_eyes

[White_eyes:D]

Voting in the night phase?

FOS: White_eyes

this is a mini-Mafia...I didn't think they were "night phases"

[Splitpersonality]

Round over, taking care of writeup.


EDIT:

here you are!

A small smokey club, downtown Chicago...

Guillermo Benitez sat in silence, his eyes locked on the hands of the guitarist on stage, though this guitarist was not alone, he was all that Guillermo saw that night. He watched each chord change, each finger held, each note played rang in his mind.

The man's fingers danced around the fretboard, and he held each chord strangely, the immediately noticeable thing was his reluctance to use his pinky and ring finger, instead opting to use just his index and middle. Regardless of the number of fingers used, it was clear this man was an extremely accomplished player.


Guillermo took a deep breath and sighed deeply, there was much he still needed to work on, for him to be able to approach the level of skill this man posessed.


He picked up his coat and started out of the club, more than motivated to go home and practice for some time, maybe a few hours, maybe more, he wasn't really sure of his plan, all he knew was he was going to play until he no longer wanted to.

As he stepped outside, he lit a cigarette in his mouth and took a drag on it, he had come a long way from when he first picked up the guitar, both as a guitarist and in physical distance. Sometimes he missed the small life he had with his family, but he was often far too occupied with the goings on of the big city to think about it. Plus there was so much more here to learn, and this made him smile a bit, there would always be more to learn.


He took another drag on his cigarette before turning and walking towards his apartment, halfway down the street however a man walking the opposite way bumped into him, knocking him down.

"Hey, watch it!" Guillermo said to the man as he stood up and brushed himself off.

"Terribly sorry sir, won't happen again." the other man replied, reaching over to shake his hand.


Guillermo reached back, slightly puzzled, and grabbed the man's hand to shake. As he did such he was met with a sharp stabbing pain in his stomach, he looked down to see a small knife sticking out of him. He coughed a few times, and slumped over the man who dragged him into a back alley.

The man threw Guillermo on the floor, stepped over him, reached down and quickly slit the man's throat.


When they found his body in the morning, Guillermo's fingers on his left hand were missing.

------

The men reconvened in the morning, the same man spoke up again.


"Okay, now it's easy to see it most likely is one of us. Let us take a vote on things again today, and see who we find the guiltiest..."

The other men quietly agreed, this time they were standing over the body of their guitarist and friend. Which one of them would be next? They had to do something...


Slashandburn is dead, he was the guitarist.



Alive: 6/7
Iskander 3.1
Double A
Chaotix
White_eyes:D
Atheotes
CDF

Dead: 1/7
Slashandburn


It is now day 2, phase will end 9pm tomorrow, Thursday October 1st at 9pm EST. Good luck town.