Invasion Mafia GAME OVER - TOWN WINS

[KingPin]

Go town!

*I guess you did not choose wisely*

[Sebastian]

He smiles, polishing the frame of his certificate: ‘Professor Logain Romanus MA English Literature Michigan State University.’ It seems so long since he spent his time reading and researching the great works. He folds the yellow dusting cloth, puts it inside its drawer and turns out the lamp. Sitting in front of the television, he flicks on the news and falls to sleep.

****

Meanwhile, Dr. Leviticus Ceranius PhD Biomedical Science knocks out the lights in his lab, locks the cellar door and groggily wanders up to the sitting room. The news mentions a sighting of a comet over Madrid and Paris. Raising an eyebrow, he picks up the phone.

“Alison? Hi. It’s Levit here, I heard about that comet. What’s going on? No. No, I didn’t see anything in the report. What? A UFO? No. Yeah, sure, I see what you’re saying, but I just can’t believe it. You remember Leonidas form Texas? Yeah. With the big hair. That’s him. I was looking at his corpse the other day and….”

The line went dead. Dr, Leviticus frowned and tapped the receiver.

“Hello?”

Still dead. There was a creak in the floorboards. A sudden realisation hit him like a bucket of ice. Holy @#?$. The Doctor stood up, panting and sweating and looked into the hallway. Nobody there. Where could he hide? Who was in his house? He tip toed upstairs, gently pushed the door of his bedroom and stepped inside. It was black and quiet.

****

At Professor Logain Romanus’ house, a man in black smashed the glass of the back window with a cloth wrapped hammer. His gloved hand turned the handle from the inside and he swung the door open. The Professor had sprinted upstairs when he had arrived. His black, polished shotgun glinted in the darkness. He padded slowly into the bedroom. He clicked back the safety trigger.

The professor crouched, trembling, under his bed. In the darkness, he did not see the blow coming. He felt his face crack from the strike. The assassin grabbed his hair and pulled him, groaning, from under the bed. His jaw was pouring blood and his head span, slid, and shrieked at him to run. He tried to get up. Another blow knocked him back down. The assassin clenched his teeth, aimed the shotgun… “Ppp.. please… I’d never hurt anyone.. my kids…” BLAM… Silence. The assassin padded out the door and into the night.

****

Dr. Leviticus screamed. It was the horrible shriek of terror and desperate anguish. Clawing at the floor, he tried to pull himself away. The creature spat and writhed like snakes. Its form was incomprehensible. Hundreds of sharp legs scuttled on the floor, pinning his flesh to the ground. It was hot and wet. It pressed its wriggling face against his and he could feel its moist skin popping and scraping underneath the flesh of its human host. Leviticus sobbed and pulled at the wooden floorboards. Blood began to leek from his fingers as he tugged and scraped. The creature opened its maw. Several pointed strands plunged into the back of his neck and he began to violently jerk and twist.

As his vision blacked and cut away, he felt the thousands of hot, wicked probes thunder through each vein in his body and drain him of blood.

Dr. Levitus Ceranius PhD Biomedical Science, a scientist, was eaten – He could scan one citizen per night and invent objects to help the town

Professor Logain Romanus MA English Literature, a mason, was shot in the head with a shotgun

But not only the killers were busy on that night, for as the dawn arose, people began to notice a few changes about the town. The builders and the carpenters took stock of the new extensions they had built for Old Hollow.

IT IS DAY 2
7 TO LYNCH

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Please email S.Hickey@Bradfrod.Ac.Uk with any queries or comments

[This message has been edited by Sebastian (edited 03-31-2003 02:57 AM).]

[Jason]

Holy shit..

[jesternl]

Not good... not good at all...
I Inver\stigated Jason last night.... He is not alien as far as I can tell.

[Werebear]

Checking in....

[Darkblade]

Hmmm, there isn't much we can garner from yesterday's talks. Ihave a new theory, the Mafia, or at least the godfather, has a big house. It would make sense, no? And hence, I will VOTE: Vegetable2001 until other reasons fro someone else arrive.

[Sparticus]

At work on break right now...only have time to finish up MiniMiniMafia. I'll post something productive tomorrow, I hope.

[The Levite]

[sarcasm]I would just like to thank all the doctors that protected me last night[/sarcasm] Go town, and good luck your going to need it seeing that you seem to like killing off your allies...*sigh* and I actually had a good role to...

[Green Crayons]

FOS: Darkblade. I have a big house, and am neither a godfather-type role, nor evil.

[Sebastian]

Please note ammendment to end of Night 2 Post above. Apologies from the mod for his forgetful mind.

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Please email S.Hickey@Bradfrod.Ac.Uk with any queries or comments

[mikegoo]

Wow this game is going too fast for me. I have little recollection of what was said yesterday so I'll of course vote XerOx.

[KingPin]

I am reporting to the thread.....

*wonders is this deja vu*

Does size matter? Interesting I posed this question on day 1(as jadesmar)
It might but let me reread the thread. Reading into the size of the homes might get us no-where. It is interesting though that none of the owners of mansions have been killed.
You could also look at the building of more rooms to be both townish and evilish (is that a word). Building more places to hide suggests town, but also a great way to make yourself look like you are town.

Anyone have any information at all that could help us?

[Werebear]

If the mod deliberately put killers in big houses, he's not a good mod. The killers can't use the rooms to avoid a lynch anyways. I'm sure the reason the dead have the number of hiding places listed after them is for those who want to figure the odds the killers searched 1 hiding spot, etc (something i'm not going to try to do).

Second, as per the end of the "day" message - there are carpenters who build additions to houses. This can only be a good thing... it's helping give people more places to hide. The killers, as far as I know, are not the ones building additions.

[Sparticus]

Perhaps, but remember, the mafia also have to contend with the aliens(and vice versa), so they need hiding places, too. However, I agree that size does not matter. The size of the domicile does not necessarily determine the innocence/guilt of the homeowner.

Other than that...unfortunately, I haven't found anything productive about yesterday. So, Jason's not an alien, but he may be mafia. We can't know unless a cop comes out and clears/accuses him as mafia.

Originally posted by mikegoo:

---

I have little recollection of what was said yesterday so I'll of course vote XerOx.

---

FOS: mikegoo. What is your motivation for voting xer0x? I don't quite see the "of course" in your action. Besides, if you have little recollection of yesterday's events, you can always look back in the thread and read it.

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In my dice bag, I've got dice you've never even heard of. I have a d5, d7, d14, d16...I think I've even got a d1.

[jesternl]

The description speaks of an assassin though.. What I thought at the beginning of the game is that the aliens are the mafia, the bad guys, the people who we are trying to get rid of. It might be that the assassin is more of a SK type of role?

[Werebear]

[mikegoo]

In case ya'll hadn't noticed there is not much to go on at this point. I voted on a whim and tried to make it a little amusing. I have heard no better ideas and figured we could at least get some discussion going with a vote or 2 being cast.

FOS werebear for being a little too free with the FOS's...get a pair* and cast a vote.

*I hear moccasins are really comfortable if you want adivice on what kind of pair to get.

[Werebear]

Dear Mikegoo stop Please double check your post stop I believe you have made a stupid mistake stop Think before you type stop Apology will be accepted once you remove feet from mouth stop end transmission

[TANSTAAFL]

Which houses had expansions built last night? I didn't know we would have to keep track of that day to day, so I didn't write down what everyone had to start with. Does anyone know? Obviously not me, since I'm still in a dinky cottage.

I would guess the reason that no one in a mansion has been killed yet is because the killers have taken the sure thing of killing someone without enough hiding places to escape.

Another thought I had was that there might not be any doctors since we have the chance of hiding to prevent a kill.

[mikegoo]

Hmmm....werebear and Sparticus aren't one and the same...I'm so clueless

But really....you should get some moccasins.

[Ghost Post]

Ouch.

[Sebastian]

Day 2 vote tally:

Lurkers:^*
Crackerjack, Vegetable & Xer0x

Non Voters:
Crackerjack, Green Crayons, Jason, Jesternl, Kingpin, Sparticus, Tanstaafl, Vegetable, Werebear, xer0x

The Vote Tally:
Vegetable - 1 Vote - (Darkblade)
Xer0x - 1 Vote - (Mikegoo)

7 to LYNCH
Provisional Deadline: Monday 7th April - 5PM Forum Time**

_{*This does not affect your statutory rights. Our definition of lurking may differ from your definition of lurking. Terms and conditions apply.
**This deadline is subject to change. If players desire an extension due to indecision or discussion, the deadline may be dissolved or rescheduled to a later date.}

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Please email S.Hickey@Bradfrod.Ac.Uk with any queries or comments

[This message has been edited by Sebastian (edited 03-31-2003 03:40 PM).]

[Green Crayons]

[Jason]

I'm inclined to both agree and disagree with the big house theory. I think maybe the most important people in the game start off with a mansion whether they be good or bad. Like the godfather of the mafia, the alien leader and maybe a super vigilante or a super cop. Therefore if we were to randomly lynch someone because they had a big house we could have a better chance of killing an important bad guy than killing an important good guy.. but it's a big risk even if my theory is true seeing as we've already lost one cop..

Originally posted by Tanstaafl:

---

Another thought I had was that there might not be any doctors since we have the chance of hiding to prevent a kill.

---

I think that with two groups of killers there would probably be doctors. If not then I think we're pretty much doomed. Hiding is one thing but a sure protection from a doctor is crucial for defence. I was just about to post this saying the aliens didn't eat anyone night one because they were possibly saved from a doctor but I guess Green Crayons chose the right place to hide.. Maybe Tanstaafl is right.

[KingPin]

Would it not also be feasable to say that the Doc's might have the choice to either protect or perform another action at night. We have an inventor, JesterNL, right that has more than one night action. Then it would be plausable that the docs might have other night choices. Or what about the chance that the docs might only protect against one or the other evil factions. i.e. aliens vs. mafia. I do think that doc's are incorporated into this game.
I may be talking out of my butt, but we as a town need to have some strategy.

[xer0x]

*unlurks* We need some sort of argument, other than OMGUSes and random stuff.

[Werebear]

KingPin... Um... I hate be the one to break this to you, but your funeral was too lovely for you to still be walking around.

[KingPin]

Did you really like the flowers? I thought they were lovely, and thank you for giving that warming eulogy!

[TANSTAAFL]

Well, I was waiting to share this to get a little bit more discussion going so we'd have more info later in the game. Also, I didn't want to sign my death warrant just yet... but here it goes...

vote: Sparticus

He's an alien. I am Dr. TANSTAAFL Wulfheim, I can check one person each night to see if they are an alien or not. I don't invent things as far as I know.

I had assumed that the reason there was no kill by the aliens the first night was because they had invaded someone's body. Night 1 I checked Jesternl and was told he was not an alien, but given the impression that this could change.

[KingPin]

Alright Dr.

Vote: Sparticus

[Werebear]

fair enough. Vote: Sparticus

[Jason]

If you're an alien you're going to pay for your crimes against humanity.. vote: sparticus

[Vegtable2001]

Vote Spart Somehow i have a feeling that such specilized cops are sane.

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Flame Away

[Darkblade]

UNVOTE: Vegetable2001
VOTE: Sparticus

Simple enough. Oh and GC, I'm not saying that everybody in a big house is nessesarily scum. I'm saying that, of the people with big houses, it is likely that one of them is the mafia GF.

FOS: GC for his over-reactionary post.

[Green Crayons]

Unvote: Darkblade, Vote: Sparticus

[Sparticus]

Wow, that was quick. That should be 7 votes. Damn, so brutal. First Leonidas, now me...

Ah, well, that's how it goes.

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In my dice bag, I've got dice you've never even heard of. I have a d5, d7, d14, d16...I think I've even got a d1.

[Sebastian]

It is twilight. Dusk post coming soon. Final vote count, Day 2:

Lurkers:^*
Crackerjack

Non Voters:
Crackerjack, Jesternl, Sparticus & xer0x

The Vote Tally:
Sparticus - 7 votes - (Tanstaafl, Kingpin, Werebear, Jason, Vegetable, Darkblade & Green Crayons)
Xer0x - 1 Vote - (Mikegoo)

Sparticus Lynched with 7 votes

_{*This does not affect your statutory rights. Our definition of lurking may differ from your definition of lurking. Terms and conditions apply.}

[This message has been edited by Sebastian (edited 04-01-2003 04:58 PM).]

[Ghost of Sparticus]

To mothership: You guys might as well go, cause I'm not coming back.

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I was Sparticus.

[Sebastian]

(Apologies for embellishing on people’s actions… it was rather short and I needed more for the story. )

Kingpin and Jason murmured and talked of the size of houses. “Maybe the scum’s livin’ up there? Who knows?”

Darkblade shrugged, sipped a luke-warm coffee and looked up.

“Alls I’m sayin’, is that a fat cat, like those mafia ought to be, ain’t gonna live in no brick and @?#* hut, ye hear? I ain’t sayin’ I know which one o’ those mansions got themselves scum livin’ inside it, but I sure as hell think that one o’ thems gots to be in one them…”

Some nodded and some shook their heads but all looked weary, dazed from the lack of sleep. Everyone heard the screams of Dr. Leviticus. Nobody deserves to go like that. He screamed and cried but nobody could get to him in time. By morning, his house (walls windows, shelves and beds) was covered in his own blood and the foul stench of something dreadful. Although the sun blazed down like an open fire, still the folk shivered nervously. Green Crayons, manic eyed, leaped from his chair.

“I was in the garage, bitch! Muahahahahahaha!”

The crowd flinched and gasped. “Crikey” was what most of them thought, but nobody said a word. Sparticus wandered around the edge of the tables, standing in the darkness. Tanstaafl kept her eye on him. Her lips were thin. She was nervous.

“Ahem…”

The crowd ignored her. Kingpin, Green Crayons and Crackerjack looked up from their drinks at the bar.

“AHEM!” barked Dr. Wulfheim, “May I introduce myself. My name is Dr. Tanstaafl Wulfheim. I am an educated type, learned in the ways of science. Last night, while checking for neurological disturbances, it came to my attention that… that… well, that Sparticus is.. Sort of.. a walking, talking, sleeping, walking… living doll…”

The crowd looked at her silently…

Tanstaafl sighed, “His body is being used as a host by an alie...”

“AN ALIEN? ….”

“Alien?”

“Sparticus?,…”

“…..”

“….”


“BURN HIM!!”

Sparticus began to dodge backward. Its brain was hot and weary. It longed for night. Its flesh felt hot and dry: Crisp and sandy. It began to whine.

“Eeek.. tick.. goch… gaieeeeeeeeeeeee!”

It scampered in the shadows. Hundreds of pronged legs burst from its thighs and writhing polyps wobbled and bubbled from its eyes and ears. Great clear boils soared and popped over its back like a simmering bolognaise sauce. It shrieked and lurched for Tanstaafl.

At dusk, the fire had finally been put out. The creature’s writhing form made one last spasm. Tanstaafl had knocked it into the old tool room with a sharp kick against the front of its knee. The crowd surged in, battering it wildly. It took quite a killing. Eventually Old Sebastian hobbled downstairs, yelled out, pushed a welding visor over his pocked face, yanked back a big lever on a strange looking long funnel, barely let everyone dive out of the way and then blasted it with searing hot burning petrol. After the Old Hollow hotel had burnt down he made his apologies and went to bed.

Sparticus, an evil Alien, has been lynched by the town.

IT IS NIGHT

SEND CHOICES ASAP

Deadline for choices – Friday 4th April

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Please email S.Hickey@Bradfrod.Ac.Uk with any queries or comments

[Sebastian]

In the darkness, a gagged man listened hard, tears rolling down his face. He heard rattling. He was bound tight: his legs and arms felt dead with the pressure of the knots. His nostrils flared as he tried to breath. So little air. So dark. God help him.

***

An old bottle of beer rolled about in the dusty back seat as the rusty saloon titled on the potholes of a dark road. The bottle jerked and toppled off the edge, underneath the driver’s seat, as the car pulled to stop. It knocked gently into the barrel of a long, shining black shotgun. The back door clicked open and a gloved hand reached down. It grabbed the shotgun, pulled it from the car and pushed the door shut gently with its knuckles. The assassin padded over the pebbled yard, with the shining barrel over his shoulder.

***

Amadeus Jesternl’s old knuckles were white and rigid. They clutched the dry wooden handle of a heavy, iron spade. Trembling, behind the door of his bedroom, he stood in a green flannel bathrobe, a chequered pair of boxer shorts and a stained and saggy string vest. He was old, weak, and terrified.

His research into the neurological Quero-Noring particle system had brought him to Old Hollow. It had earned him high acclaim all over the East coast. It had allowed him to build the most efficient Mabolising Refruiterator in the free world. And with it, he had uncovered the presence of something wretched. Something grotesque. Inside his head, he could still hear the screams of Dr. Leviticus. He knew what was out there, hunting, searching for hosts. He could not sleep a wink.

He had heard the car’s engine.

He had looked out of his bedroom window, trembling, and had seen a shape emerge from the driver’s side. He had fumbled at his drawer, looking for the keys.

Where were the goddamned keys?

Fear had all but paralyzed him. His fingers had been like pillows. He could not get to the keys. Cursing and beginning to sob he had kicked at the drawer. If only he were younger. He kicked and thumped and kicked again. He dropped to the floor as the drawer toppled over and clumsily grabbed the shiny keys that had fallen out. He heard the car door shut. He stood up, his old bones aching and hobbled as fast as he could into the corridor. He heard footsteps on the pebbles. He reached the door for his tool closet. He heard the back window downstairs being smashed. He pushed the key in the lock, prised open the door and grabbed an old, heavy spade. Someone was coming upstairs. He hobbled back toward his bedroom.

He stood, tears streaming down his old, wrinkled face and shook with terror. The bedroom door creaked open. The spade was too heavy. Panicking, he pressed himself to the wall. The figure walked to his bedside.

Amadeus Jesternl held his breath. He hobbled forward a step and raised the spade. The assassin turned. Jesternl swung as hard as he could. As he swung, the assassin raised an arm and caught the shaft before it reached him. The assassin twisted the spade, pulled it free from Jesternl’s hands and smirked.
“Old man.. Just an old, scared man, aren’t ya?”

Jesternl could barely look at him through his bleary eyes. The assassin hefted the spade, stepped forward and swung it hard.

His ribs cracked like twigs.

His short breaths felt like razors in his chest. Warm blood oozed from his mouth. The old man tried to sob. Pain wracked his body and mind. Terrible pain. Tears dribbled from his cheeks, mingling with blood.

The spade crunched into his legs.

He twisted in agony. His mind was going numb. He could hear a laugh from somewhere distant. It was cruel and hate filled. Something cold pushed against his back. Sobbing, Jesternl tried to move away. He was going to die.. oh lord he was going to…

BLAMMMMM!!

BLAM! BLAM!

The son of Diego returned to his car, wiped the blood from his shotgun and shifted into gear. He turned on the radio, reversed out of the drive and rolled back down toward the desert.

***

The gagged man felt the car stop. The engine thrummed for a moment. He could hardly breath. It was so dark. He had heard somebody inside the house. Pulling the door shut to his living room, he scrambled up inside his chimney and hid. He didn’t even hear the door open. His head had cracked on the stone fireplace as he was dragged onto the floor. The assassin had beaten him hard until he stopped moving. He didn’t remember being bound. However, he heard the gunshots. Who the hell was this $*@#*&£ psycho? Jesus he’s going to kill me too! Holy #$%£! Help me! He tried to scream but the gag was too tight. But still he screamed. Until the engine stopped.

He heard the car door swing open and then slam. Footsteps came closer. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. As the boot was pushed open, a rush of air met his nostrils. His breathing was short and sharp. He was scared. The assassin roughly pulled him from the back onto cold stone. It was very dark here. But there was an edge to the darkness that was blacker than the rest. The assassin dragged him toward this blackness. It was the quarry: A two hundred foot drop onto sharp stone.

“Well, well then Dr. Emilius Crackerjack, thought you could hide from the family? Eh?”

Crackerjack struggled with futility. His hands were bound to his ankles. Blood still leaked from a gash in his head.

“Answer me when I’m talkin’ to you, muchacho!” The assassin kicked him hard in the face. His nose popped.

“You #@$%*&% gringo! I #@$%*&% kill you! You think you can hide from the family? Eh? EH?” He kicked him again. This time the boot knocked in his teeth and burst the gag. Crackerjack screamed with pain.

“You little bitch!” shouted the assassin and pushed the shotgun barrel through his broken mouth, into the back of his throat. Crackerjack gagged and wretched. The assassin spat onto his face and pushed his head into the stone with the end of the barrel. He turned away.

BLAMMMMMMM!!!

The sound echoed through the quarry. The car drove away.

Dawn's light, when it finally came, picked out the crimson gore at the bottom of the sheer quarry face. Two crumpled corpses lay silent: ugly and still.

Dr. Emilius Crackerjack PhD Architecture, a mason, has been shot in the head.

Prof. Amadeus Jesternl MA Neurological Engineering, a scientist, has been beaten and shot. He could scan for aliens and build objects that could help the town.

IT IS DAY
5 TO LYNCH

Provisionally no deadline...


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Please email S.Hickey@Bradfrod.Ac.Uk with any queries or comments