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Ugh Individually they make sense but an Ernie/DIPJ scumteam would be the dumbest possible play right now. They can't both hard bus each other when the death of one wouldn't even remotely clear the other. loving gently caress. ##vote dipj
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Aug 6, 2017 21:18
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yeah, it has to be dipj. ##vote DIPJ
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Aug 6, 2017 21:30
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So I was going to make a long case. But I think it's dipj. ##vote dipj 
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Aug 6, 2017 21:36
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 drowned in pussy juice Votecount for Day 4 With 7 alive, it's 4 votes to execute. The current deadline is August 07th, 2017 at 8 p.m. CDT -- that's in about 1 day, 4 hours.
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Aug 6, 2017 21:37
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Votecount for Day 4 drowned in pussy juice (4): PMush Perfect, Ernie.,  Ernie. (1): bowmore, PMush Perfect, Not Voting (2): drowned in pussy juice, JeditWith 7 alive, it's 4 votes to execute. The current deadline is August 07th, 2017 at 8 p.m. CDT -- that's in about 1 day, 4 hours. drowned in pussy juice, The Contender, Town As drowned in pussy juice was drowned in leftover eggnog, held down in the serving bowl by four of his fellow contestants, the lights in the room started to flicker. The voice came on after a thick blare of static. ｗｅｌｌ ｄｏｎｅ， ｙｏｕ ｈａｖｅ ｐｌａｙｅｄ ｔｈｅ ｇａｍｅ． ｙｏｕ ｐｌａｙｅｄ ｇｈｅ ｔａｍｅ， ｗｅｌｌ ｄｏｎｅ ｗｅｌｌ ｄｏｎｅ ｗｅｌｌ ｄｏｎｅ ｗｅｌｌ ｄｏｎｅ ｗｅｌｌ ｄｏｎｅ． ｃａｓｈ ｐｒｉｚｅｓ ａｎｄ ｎｅｗ ｏｒｇａｎｓ ａｎｄ ａ ｆｕｌｌ ｈａｐｐｙ ｌｉｆｅ ｆｏｒ ａｌｌ ｓｕｒｖｉｖｏｒｓ！ Loud, happy music played over the loudspeakers. On the television screens around the room, you see perfect versions of yourself being congratulated by Geoffrey Zakarian, cash fluttering from the ceiling all around. In your version of the set, however, Geoffrey Zakarian steps forward and removes his shirt. He's covered in strange, tribalistic markings that upon closer inspection were clearly made in blood. The host tosses a Wüsthof back and forth between his hands as he examines you all. "I'm so close now," he says. "The flesh has revealed so much to me, but I'm still missing the last chapter. I know one of you has it, somewhere inside."' You all huddle together nervously. He's just one person though, and you're five strong. But then, Yorkshire steps forward and crosses the room to him. As he does, bowmore falls to the ground, a shiv stuck in his back. bowmore, The Wounded, Town Cop was killed night four! Well, still, it was three on one, you had a chance. "Guys, I don't feel so good." Tired Moritz said. He bent over in pain, and a flood of human teeth came falling out of his mouth. He staggered and hit the floor, dead. Tired Moritz, The Intern, Town Vanilla succumbed to DOOM night four! As Jedit and Pmush looked at each other, Ernie and Yorkshire started to step forward. The lights flickered again, then faded completely. When they came back on, there was no one there. Jedit, The Cibopath, Town Tracker was endgamed! Pmush Perfect, The Automaton, Town Jack-of-All-Trades was endgamed! Ernie, The Zakarian, Mafia Rolecop and Ninja has won the game! Yorkshire Tea, The Accomplice, Mafia Strongman has won the game!
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Aug 7, 2017 00:22
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writeup incoming
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Aug 7, 2017 00:22
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Wow. Okay, drat. I feel like I hosed that up myself.
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Aug 7, 2017 00:33
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setup
Strongman - Once per game fire an extra delayed night kill, fires two nights later. 3rd Party Lyncher MasonMaker, every other night investigation for target 3rd Party Lyncher Arsonist, every other day investigation for target Doctor Bulletproof Bodyguard Cop Tracker Oracle Self Watcher Joat - Roleblock redirect watch Empowerer - Improves role powers or adds them Vanilla Vanilla why did the game end the mafia had their extra once-per-game, two-night delayed kill go through. with a strongman active and no protective roles still in play, there was no way the kill would not go through, making it 4 alive with 2 scum and no chance for town. what the gently caress was the egg stuff soooo on one hand, it's against all moderation principle to change a game once it is in motion. there's a certain level of integrity required in running a game, without trust between the players and moderator, it can't function. i did break that trust to an extent and i am sorry for it. dipj sent me some funny flavor despite not having a night action and i rewarded him with a one-shot power as a result, telling him there would be consequences if he used it. i think the eggnog stuff drove a lot of discussion and kept the game active in the period following the 3rd party reveal. so on the other hand i don't think it was unreasonable at all. people ascribed a lot more to it than was actually going on. if no one had drank the nog there would have been no followup. why did scum roll so hard uhhh i think they played pretty well and had eerily prescient night actions. The strongman kill on the self-protecting doctor night one was nuts, jedit tracking ernie the one night they used their ninja kill was also nuts, although I can't believe jedit called it. Circl's claim was hugely unfortunate timing. It's easy to say 'oh, the strongman was overpowered here,' but if you look at the breakdown of town vs. scum abilities, i don't think that's the case. town had several chances to turn things around. taste was right in that town would be better off if they stayed out of the 3p stuff, the no-lunch hurt things, and ignoring a cop result on a claimed rolecop was kinda nuts. i saw some strong play and good instincts from a lot of townies, but not so much followthrough. wasn't this a game about cooking? ...gently caress. i knew i forgot something.
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Aug 7, 2017 00:34
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Sorry, DIPJ  Bowmore, you have officially earned the right to say I Told You So.
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Aug 7, 2017 00:35
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other stuff i just wanted to run a kinda goofy game and have fun. it ended up ballooning into a lot of work, oops. i was very happy with everyone's participation for the most part. thank you all for playing! night actions scumdoc specdoc i'm going to dump all the role flavor here because no one can stop me Geoffry Zakarian ”I am… A CON!” You bent over the judges’ table face-down, pretending to be shocked in order to hide your twisted grimace. Of course he was a con, who else would prepare grilled vegetables in a maple glaze? You nodded and played along, listening to his story about the high-stakes world of real estate, while inwardly you pictured what you’d do later. What had your life come to that you were stuck playing the simpleton in the barest facade of a game show? You were an Iron Chef for the love of God. * * * The floor was slick with blood. You were breathing hard. There was a strange feeling coming over you, it was almost like… peace? Contentment? One of those. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt like this. Why was it happening now? You looked down. Oh. You tossed the meat tenderizer to the floor. It’d have to go too, it was a shame to toss a Williams Sonoma but there wasn’t nothing to be done about it. As you started to drag the body over to the sausage maker, you realized that you couldn’t stop now. No, you had to get the show shut down for good. You couldn’t break contract, but with like, six or seven murders Food Network would probably remember you exist and end your ceaseless purgatory. Halfway through, you realized the meat was talking to you. It was a little strange, but it made a lot of sense. But the voice kept cutting in and out, fading. You wait for it to come back, but it was gone. You have to find it again, but it’ll be hiding in more flesh. Good thing you know how to get back there. You are The Zakarian, Mafia Rolecop/Hider! As the host, it’s not exactly difficult for you to get your hands on the contestant information. And yet, with all their programming, it’s pretty easy for you to slip away without Food Network ever noticing. Each night you may investigate a player to learn their role and any other abilities. This will not inform you as to their alignment. You may also Hide every other night, becoming untargetable. This will prevent any and all actions targeting you. You have access to the collective nightkill and may perform it. However, you may only perform one action in a given night. Your partner in this endeavor is PLAYERNAME you may communicate with them out of thread using the Discord and Google Sheets links at the end of this message. You win when you have assembled an unassailable majority over the town. 2. Deirdre Marks - Con There was blood dripping from the impossible point of his hair. Zakarian was shirtless, his chiseled abdomen painted red until it met the line of his dress pants, which were still spotless. He turned to you and smiled, holding his arms wide and gesturing with a Wusthof Damascus Steel knife. “Welcome sister, come and partake of communion.” So yeah, it was a weird start to the episode. But you could actually really use the work. Someone at Food Network had gotten their wires crossed and hired an actual convict. You’d actually mentioned it a couple times but no one seemed to care. Oh well, Zakarian was promising you tremendous rewards if you assisted in his ‘Great Work.’ As far as you could tell, that involved murder and dismemberment. What’s weird though is that he was right. The voices at the back of your mind seemed to agree, you hadn’t heard them in years but now they were an eager chorus in concert with the Zakarian. You are The Accomplice, Mafia Strongman! Everyone here is handy with their knifework, but you really know how to work a knife. I mean that you’re extremely good at murder. Every other night you may add the modifier ‘Strongman’ to your kills. This modifier will go through any Doctor protections or passive protective abilities. As a passive ability, you may name another player to be killed. That player will be killed two night from the night the name was submitted. You may change the name submitted during the night, but it will subsequently delay the kill. Once the kill has taken effect, you may no longer submit a name. You may never have multiple submissions active. You have access to the collective nightkill and may perform it. You may only perform one action in a given night. Your partner in this endeavor is PLAYERNAME you may communicate with them out of thread using the Discord and Google Sheets links at the end of this message. You win when you have assembled an unassailable majority over the town. 3. The Hunter On a Boston rooftop, you stood with your revolver pointed forward. Flames licked at the air in contrast with the swirling snow. The thing was a full twenty paces across from you, but you could tell it was grinning. It had the kind of grin that gave you an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. “Surrender or die monster, this is the end of the line!” It did neither, but shuffled forward and back a step, teasing you. “Ah, Agent Bow, I thought I had lost you back in Delaware. Tell me, how did you find me?” You fired a shot as the last word left whatever passed for its lips. It moved liquid-fast, shifting its form out of the way without moving. It gave an angry hiss and stepped forward, flames following in the wake of its footsteps. “Manners, Agent Bow.” A wild, chittering scream came out of it and it raced forward. · * * You caught the scent of cinders and your head whipped around. No, just another overcooked brisket. drat. You brought your focus back to the task at hand and set your carefully practiced knifework to a funnelcake. Ugh, it made sense the beast would be hiding here in this Bacchanalian carnival of horrors. But who was he this time? You opened your mind’s defenses just a crack and were immediately overwhelmed by a cacophony of panicked thoughts. No, there was no way you could sort through that much white noise. You’d have to be a little more careful. There was no doubt it was here, but this was a new track for it. Why cooking? Had it been so that it could delay you? It had taken close to a year to hone your skills to the point that you could compete here today. Still, it seemed too simple. You could only hope the witless fools around you would be cooperative, it’d mean their lives otherwise. You are The Hunter, Independent Mason-Maker! You are hunting The Beast, another player in this game. Once they have been killed or executed, you win the game and will exit the thread. Every other night you may investigate a single player with a result of THE BEAST or NOT THE BEAST. Each day as an anytime action, you may submit the name of another player to communicate with out of thread. This communication will persist through the start of the next day. 4. The Beast · * * You sat at the back of Muriel’s mind, watching her turn the stove off and on. You knew you had to lay low for a while longer, but it was all so boring. Boredom was your greatest enemy, it was why you were being hunted in the first place. At least that was a little exciting, you couldn’t complain too much, even if it meant possessing and relaxing in the mind of an old woman for several weeks. You started to wonder how much of the meat suit you could burn and still have it work, when a tiny impulse worked its way out from the host. You got your claws ready to rip her minds to shreds, but it was just a simple reminder, rooted deep. ‘Turn to Food Network.’ You made a sound that could never have come from any human through Muriel’s mouth and walked over to the television set. The instinct started to sing, and you resisted your urge to devour it as it guided you through the steps of operating the entertainment center. The display came to life, blaring at a volume much greater than your heightened senses needed, and you sat down. The host was content. From your position on the floor, a sensory parade of wonders marched by. It was incomprehensible. It was supremely foolish. It was… joyous? You rose from the floor two days later and tentatively walked back to the stove, this time turning it to low heat. Your thick and clumsy flesh-hands began to root through the cupboard, examining the symbols and markings. One by one you placed them on the counter until they were all assembled. Your hands clasped together and Muriel’s voice echoed in a guttural roll throughout the apartment as you began the ritual. “YUMMO.” * * ”Countdown… begin!” You were so excited it was all you could do not to phase through the island in the center of the stage and grab the blender you needed. You couldn’t explain why, exactly, but the culinary arts had exerted some fey hold over your being, to the point of obsession. As you moved though, a sour stench filled your nostrils. You sniffed at the candied bacon pâté you had prepared, but there was no fault in the ingredients. No, this was Bow, the soft pink maniac who ran through such things as you considered nightmares. How could he be here? You had been so careful this past year, focusing only on improving your art. There had been accidents, of course, but you had buried them all very deep. No matter. You had met Bow at the crossroads half a dozen times, and he had nothing to show for it but the mark of black flame. Still, you rubbed the permanent cold spot on your left forearm where he had wounded you, Bow could not be allowed to interfere with your masterpiece. You are The Beast, Independant Arsonist! You are seeking The Hunter, another player in this game. Once they have been killed or executed, you win the game and will exit the thread. Every other day as a free action, you may investigate a single player with a result of THE HUNTER or NOT THE HUNTER by submitting ##investigate player. You may do this at any time. During the night, you may either ##douse a player to mark them or ##ignite to kill all marked players. A Doctor could protect a doused player from ignition, but would not remove the doused marking. If The Hunter is killed in this way, it will count as a victory as well. If you or the Hunter are endgamed, it will count as a loss. 5. Doctor Why do you take this path, child? You were alone on the set, everything was dark except for the workstation in front of you. The voice had come from the fish in front of you, its scales shimmering gold and flashing ruby. Oh, so this was a dream. Cool. You opened your mouth ready to bust out the phrase ‘I don’t need meat, it’s a crutch!’ The producers had really worked that one into you. Instead you caught yourself and shook your head, puzzled at the words on your mind. ‘Because it is right.’ The fish seemed to consider this, as it did you looked around. You could see now that there were shapes moving in the dark around you. Human, definitely, but moving at impossible speeds, like someone had left them on fast-forward. ‘Yes,’ said the fish, ‘It is right. You have our blessing. Go and do right, it will be needed.’ You didn’t remember the dream the next morning, but on set something felt different. Your movements were right, as if your hand was being guided. You could see one of the hosts roll their eyes as you offered up a Portabella steak with a Sangria glaze, but as they took a bite their eyes widened. Not pausing for comment, they hungrily devoured the dish, licking the plate clean. Geoffrey Zakarian tried to step in, but they shot up from their chair. “I… I can see! My eyes are fine!” They tossed their glasses to the floor and laughed merrily. “I CAN SEE!” Weird, maybe it was the lavender you’d put with the vegetable etouffee side. You are The Blessed of the Fisher King, Town Doctor! Each night you may prepare a dish so pure, it heals the wounds of any one player, preventing them from death. You may self-target. You may not target the same player successively. You win when all threats to the town have been eliminated. 6. Bulletproof Bodyguard “Coffee?” You nodded. “Please. No cream, three sugars.” The executive grunted, “Dark as Satan, sweet as his kiss.” You raised an eyebrow. “Ah, sorry?” He chortled, “Don’t be. Something my gramma used to say.” He handed the styrofoam cup over and you gave a thin smile. This meeting already wasn’t what you’d expected, but this was a bit much. You could smell the faint poison in the cup but chugged it anyway. “So, a tastetaster.” You sat there waiting for a followup. When it became clear none was coming, you said “Yes, sir. Seven years.” “Bit of a strange occupation, don’t see many today outside of the royal families. What is it that they call you?” “I’m not sure what you…” “Oh come on, you know why I called you here.” “...The man with the iron stomach. But I have othe-” “Haha, yes! That’s it. The man with the iron stomach. Great stuff. So, here’s my offer.” He pushed across a piece of paper. You flipped it over and examined the absurdly generous offer carefully for a moment. “This may have been unclear,” you said, “But you realize that I do not kill people?” The executive laughed. “Yep, not what you’re here for.” “Then what am I here for?” “Did Deborah not send you the email? Jesus Christ. I tell you, it’s like half the time I’m talking to myself. I want you to appear on the teevee show, eh… Cooking Cons or something?” You blinked. It was his network, how did he not know what the show was? “Oh. Well, I mean, I do cook. Mostly traditional Mediterranean and Italian but I can improvise.” He waved his hands, “Yes yes, that’s fine. More importantly though, how are you feeling?” You sat stone-faced, “I’m fine sir, thank you for asking. The poison you put in my drink has not in any way impaired my abilities.” He clapped his hands excitedly. “Man! They said you were good, but this is something else. We’ll need to get you on set right away, I have some specific instructions for you.” You are The Mercenary, Town Bulletproof-Bodyguard! Each night you may select another player to protect. If they are targeted by a killing action, it will instead hit you. You have immunity from the first kill targeted against you. You will not be told when your bulletproof immunity has been used. You win when all threats to the town have been eliminated. 7.Cop The creamed-corn etoufee you made was a mess, you could barely focus. You weren’t sure why, but something was distracting you. What was it? You kept tracking sudden movements, and there were a lot of them. As the tension mounted, you hard to blink back the memories as they tried to break through. No, not now. That alley was a thousand miles away, back in the city you left behind. It hadn’t been easy to put that behind you, the producers particularly liked the idea of a ‘con’ who was also a cop. But you pushed through, because there was nothing else to do. * * You made it through the round by the skin of your teeth. You sat away from the others, downing bottled water as you wiped away sweat. It was almost like you were having some kind of reaction, but it didn’t make any sense. Cooking had always been your safe space, where you could go to find peace. As the lights went out, however, it started to make sense. Your instincts kicked in, but too late. You had missed where everyone had been standing, but you tracked them all now with your eyes trying to gauge their expressions. There would be plenty of time to look at the crime scene later, but for now you tried to meet their eyes. This is what your senses had been warning you about, this wasn’t the work of a run of the mill felon. No, this was a special kind of monster. The kind you used to put away. The kind you would put away. God help the rest of these poor bastards if you couldn’t. You are The Wounded, Town Cop! Each night you may investigate another player, returning a result of TOWN or NOT TOWN. You win when all threats to the town have been eliminated. 8. Tracker - Cibopath Your date eyed you warily as you drenched your burrito in hot sauce. Just beans, tortilla, and hot sauce. Nothing else, keep it simple. You know how this looked, but what could you do? Taking a bite, the hot sauce masked most of it, but the taste still got through. In your mind, you could see in reverse the history of the ingredients, from the waiter bringing it to your table, to the cook in the back preparing it, to the initial storage and shipment, all the way back to when the seeds had been planted. It made it wicked hard to focus, but you nodded along and tried to look normal as you began to sweat. Oops, too late. “And you?” “Ahmm?” You swallowed loudly. “I said… I said I’m a teacher, what was it that you do again?” “Oh. Food Detective. Real job.” She just pretended like she hadn’t heard you and carried on talking about her students. Probably for the best. The peculiarities of your gift made dinners hard. The first meal it had manifested had been right before prom, after you took a bite of your steak and screamed at the memory of being torn apart and murdered, things had pretty much stayed the same. It had opened up other avenues for you though. While you did have a small, boutique restaurant with only the freshest, best ingredients, it was the Food Detective business that paid the real bills. Basically you ate things, usually disgusting things, and could tell where they came from. “...So like I was saying, do you have any interest?” “Ahum? Ah uh, yes! Yes. Definitely.” “Great, just sign these then.” She pushed across a stack of papers. Wait, had this been a business meeting? You put down your dripping burrito, what little appetite you possessed had been lost. The offer was more than reasonable though, reasonable enough that you could put in more time at the restaurant, depending on how well you did. You are The Cibopath, Town Tracker! Each night you may investigate a player to see who they visited that night. In addition, you may track where a player went on a previous night as well. You indicate the distinction by using ##track PLAYER and ##track PLAYER night one. You win when all threats to the town have been eliminated. 9.Oracle Self-Watcher In every direction was white. Not the blurry white of static or the soft white of snow, but the hard, sterile white of emptiness. Ahead, there were four columns that stretched forever upward, with a goddess chained at their center. You climbed the steps towards her dias for lack of any alternative. Her eyes were covered by a black blindfold, the chains a similar shade of onyx. She looked up as you reached the top of the steps, greeting you. ‘Welcome, seeker.’ ‘Oh, uh,’ you stammered, ‘I’m not a seeker, actually? My name is Doug. Hi.’ She smiled patiently. ‘Oh? Have you not tasted of bitter truth? Do you not still hold onto it? Did you not climb the dias?’ You felt something in your hand and looked down. She was right, you were still holding onto the spice jar you had pulled from the shelf once the competition had started. Only, this one was labeled wrong. You had reached for allspice, but this read, in careful handwritten letters, ‘The Spice of All.’ Confused, you dropped it to the floor. The bottle shattered as it hit the ground. The spice turned purple as it met the air, then began to swirl and churn in the previously sterile air. As the spice began to shift, changing in the air from flowers, to birds, then butterflies, the chained goddess spoke again, her sonorous tone cutting through the clip of rushing wind. “Truth is immutable, but we are not. You must remember this, seeker.” You came to on set, the timer right where you had left it. Ignoring the hosts talking about your ‘con move,’ you started back on preparing an apple pie omelette. As you moved, it felt more like you were following along to a dance. Looking around, you saw the pattern of the dance widen. There were so many possibilities, all present before you. Then you looked outside the circle and saw the others. They were spoiled, rotten things hiding in the shadows of the room. Tortured, twisting into impossible shapes by probability, they leered at you. You turned your gaze from them. So long as they were in the shadows, they were harmless. The lights went out. You are The Seeker, Town Oracle and Self-Watcher! At the end of each night, you will be informed how many non-town player remain in the game. In addition, if you are visited by another observable player, you will be notified. You win when all threats to the town have been eliminated. 10. Joat ”Come on… come on, work drat you!” Alton gave you a vicious thump upside the head, and just like that life came into you. It was very loud, and startling. By the time you had taken in your surroundings, the man you somehow knew as Alton was turning purple. Oh. You dropped him to the floor and he gasped with relief. You looked upon yourself. Your body was sleek and metallic, but your hands were different. They were fleshy and soft, but you could feel your clever metal inside them. You knew it was a cliche, but had to ask. “What am I?” Alton was still coughing, but the question seemed to bring him a second wind. “Well, I call you Julia. I made you after I discovered the greatest, most forbidden recipe.” He lifted his hands to the sky as if calling out to some other power, “The recipe of life.” “Oh. What do I do?” Alton laughed. “Anything you want! That’s the beauty of it, you are ever changing and evolving! You can do whatever makes you happy.” That was interesting. You thought about ‘happy’ for the first time. It took several cycles, but you got there. “Cooking makes me happy. I must cook. Thank you.” You walked through the wall, a set of telescoping arms from your back grabbing a chef’s uniform and disguising you as you went. Alton sighed. “Ah, geez. Cooking. Yeah, that makes sense. Man.” You are The Automaton, Town Jack-Of-All Trades! Each night you may perform one of the following actions: Roleblock. Prevent a player from taking an action. Redirect. Change the intended target of a player’s action. Watch. Observe who visits a player. You win when all threats to the town have been eliminated. 11. Empowerer “Oh my God, are you okay?” You looked up confused, searching until you found the offending object. It was your finger, rolling around the workstation after you’d gotten a little too frisky with your knifework. The rest of the hosts and contestants were staring at you slack-jawed, no blood was coming from the wound. “Oh, uh. A-ahhhh! Ahhhhhh, ow! Oh God! Ouch! Ow ow! Ffffuhnooooof.” You feigned pain and reached over to grab the digit, sticking it back in place. The staring continued. “Oh, haha, just a prank! That’s my thing, guys! I’m the illusionist chef. I’m like, Julia Child meets Charlie Chaplin meets Harry Houdini!” They all laughed, relieved to have an explanation for the impossible. No one even called out your references. ‘Of course,’ they said, there hadn’t even been any blood. You quietly wiped the ectoplasm into the sink and cursed your clumsy, possessed hands. * * You had been haunting this building for years, where your once-famous restaurant had burned down with you inside it. They had eventually rebuilt, which was nice. It beat haunting an empty lot. To your delight, they began recording ‘cooking shows’ here. What a world, it seemed like they never stopped. Only, the cooking was bad. It pained you to watch unsalted pasta boil away under the pressure of an artificial timer. You began to help where you could, for sake of the food. It wasn’t until you watched a cook lose their silly con-artist show that you realized you could do more. They were so low, so shamed, it was easy to slip right in and possess their body. Although you could only remain for a short time, you could grant each soul the wealth of your experience. Truly, this half-life was a delight until today. You found the walls of the building burning cold, you were unable to pass through as you normally did. With the senses you’d developed since death, you sensed something strange, something hostile. Something like you. You are The Phantom, Town Empowerer! Each night, you may target another player to improve their existing abilities or grant new ones. You win when all threats to the town have been eliminated. 12. Vanilla The board room was almost completely dark, save for a thin ray of light cracking through the blinds. You looked down at the note that had been left at your desk. This was too weird, maybe there was another building you were supposed to be at? “Come in,” croaked a voice from the darkness. You jumped and nearly threw your binder up in the air. Okay, well it was something. You remembered the stories now about ‘the vampire of the tenth floor.’ The dude just had a light allergy or something, you were pretty sure. Nothing at all to be nervous about. You kept telling yourself that as you walked through the door. Nothing to be nervous about at all. You introduced yourself and the made the usual pleasantries, but their only response was to puff away at a thin cigarette. Okay, that was DEFINITELY against policy. Was this a test? Should you say something? You were spared the decision as they interrupted your thoughts. “You are a member of the internship program, correct?” “Y-yes sir! Carlos Clifton. Almost a full year now.” He nodded, it seemed that was the last of his questions. “Good. We need you on set. Lot B, now please. There will be more information in the dressing room.” You blinked. “Dressing room? What do you mean? Like an assistant? Am I going to be someone’s assistant?” He waved you away. “No. You will be a contestant. Go now, please.” “But. But I’m not qualified. What show? What?” He chuckled softly, “You are perfectly qualified. You just need a pulse. You have one of those, don’t you?” He laughed a little at that, but if there was a joke, you were missing it. Well, okay. Wow. This sure beat guard duty at the real Paula Dean’s cage. You are The Intern, Town Vanilla! At present you have no powers other than your own enthusiasm and can-do attitude. You win when all threats to the town have been eliminated. 13. Vanilla A envelope fat with folded bills slapped down on the card table in front of you. “There you go kid, here’s your cut. You go down in the second round, like I said.” Across the table was Bourdain, his slick armani suit just visible in the dim light and haze of cigarette smoke. His goons flanked him. You didn’t touch the money. You didn’t want it. “Tony, please. We don’t have to do this. I can win it! You tasted my etoufee!” He didn’t say anything, but a moment later his enforcer Fat Jeffrey had you by the apron, slapping you back and forth until you started to lose consciousness. He dropped you back in your chair and you slumped forward, propping yourself up on your forearms. Bourdain leaned across the table. “Your etoufee was a fluke, kid. You don’t have it. You never did. You’re a medium talent, no shame in that. Not everyone can be me.” From his pocket, he pulled out another envelope, this one was thinner. “You can’t be a winner, but you know what you can be? You can be a provider. Take the money, go back to your wife, enjoy the moment. Otherwise, I can show you what is in the other envelope, but I don’t think you’ll like it as much.” The threat was clear, but you thought about Chris, how excited he was when you told him you were going to be on TV, how he had hugged you so tight at the airport, the words he had whispered in your ear then. Bourdain laid the other envelope down next to the bribe. “Think on it,” he said quietly, “but remember the stakes.” You are The Contender, Town Vanilla! At present you have no powers other than your own sense of self-determination and grit. You win when all threats to the town have been eliminated.
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Aug 7, 2017 00:38
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Thanks for running, Somber.
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Aug 7, 2017 00:39
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PMush Perfect posted:Thanks for running, Somber. ayy thanks for playing
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Aug 7, 2017 00:39
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<<<< the only goddamn vanilla if DIPJ didn't suddenly have a power, I probably would be less suspicious. Added with the combination of lucky kills early and yeah, it was an easy sweep for scum.
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Aug 7, 2017 00:40
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I don't even lie to town and make up poo poo as scum because it always sounds awful and I get lynched for it so I'm not even mad nobody believed me when I literally made something up and got magic cop powers as a reward as town
drowned in pussy juice fucked around with this message at 01:02 on Aug 7, 2017 |
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Aug 7, 2017 00:52
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I'm on my phone but when i get to a computer I'll post the nog night action I sent somber
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Aug 7, 2017 00:53
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drowned in pussy juice posted:I'm on my phone but when i get to a computer I'll post the nog night action I sent somber quote:I know I'm vanilla but I thought I'd send you a night action anyway bc I'm drinking and it seemed like a great idea
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Aug 7, 2017 01:01
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congrats to scum team and 3p for really just nailing this game, pmush I am mad at you but in a nice way I will get over and that will only bring us closer together
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Aug 7, 2017 01:06
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wanna drink that goddamn nog i should make my own eggnog this year
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Aug 7, 2017 01:16
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its a really cold winter right now and I was drunk off whiskey and ginger ale and really was just craving something sweet and a little more hearty
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Aug 7, 2017 01:22
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 great work Ernie and YT!Awesome game as always Somber, you are climbing the ranks of greatest mods Thanks to al the town that helped me out, I was sort of rooting for you
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Aug 7, 2017 01:24
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Hal Incandenza posted:
i can read between the lines :'(
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Aug 7, 2017 01:28
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loving hell, scum win because I'm out boardgaming on a Sunday.
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Aug 7, 2017 01:30
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Hal Incandenza posted:
Dang dude, thanks. Taste played a great game too, but I was really impressed with how you talked your way through to victory.
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Aug 7, 2017 01:31
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Jedit posted:loving hell, scum win because I'm out boardgaming on a Sunday. Sorry man! You played well, I was blown away when you called Ernie as a ninja.
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Aug 7, 2017 01:33
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No words, I got none congrats scum team gently caress the town players
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Aug 7, 2017 01:33
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<3 u too bowmore, are you excited for the new hearthstone expansion? I am!
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Aug 7, 2017 01:35
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drowned in pussy juice posted:i can read between the lines :'( Actually your nog thing was the best part of the game so 
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Aug 7, 2017 01:36
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drowned in pussy juice posted:<3 u too bowmore, are you excited for the new hearthstone expansion? I am! yes, I'm keen
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Aug 7, 2017 01:37
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at least now ernie has replaced you as my potential D1 lynch for "scum that just relentlessly clowned on me in a very embarrassing way"
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Aug 7, 2017 01:37
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the second time one of my cop results has been ignored leading straight to a scum win
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Aug 7, 2017 01:37
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Somberbrero posted:Dang dude, thanks. Taste played a great game too, but I was really impressed with how you talked your way through to victory. It was really cool how it worked out with me and Taste basically finding each other N1 and Taste is awesome for trying his hardest and really being correct in the end, I imagine if he had laid it all out like that from the start then he probably would have won.
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Aug 7, 2017 01:39
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I basically knew Ernie was scum from day 2 I should have campaigned harder but he played a good scum game
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Aug 7, 2017 01:40
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bowmore posted:I basically knew Ernie was scum from day 2 I should have campaigned harder but he played a good scum game Agreed. Nothing more frustrating than a cop result being ignored though, I feel for you
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Aug 7, 2017 01:41
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Thanks for the game and role somb Big ups to Hal as well, I think I might have outmaneuvered a lot of players but you never really were in doubt
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Aug 7, 2017 01:42
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Also, I told u so, town
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Aug 7, 2017 01:43
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Thanks for the game, Somber!
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Aug 7, 2017 01:57
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bowmore posted:I basically knew Ernie was scum from day 2 I should have campaigned harder but he played a good scum game when you faked a result i was totally panicked, thinking i had hosed something up horribly.
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Aug 7, 2017 02:17
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So why didn't my bulletproof work?
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Aug 7, 2017 02:17
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CirclMastr posted:So why didn't my bulletproof work? One of the scum had a 'Strongman' kill that could punch through protections. They had planned to use the 'Ninja' kill to avoid detection instead, but once you claimed they decided to ace you with the Strongman.
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Aug 7, 2017 02:28
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Somberbrero posted:when you faked a result i was totally panicked, thinking i had hosed something up horribly.
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Aug 7, 2017 02:29
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