Re: Woop Zoop, It's Mafia Time! (Clusterfuckery in T-Minus 1
09-18-2011, 07:37 AM
The Place. It exists outside of most conventional senses of time and space. It's a collection of little villages on the edge of reality, where concepts and gods and even occasionally people from more mundane realities mingle and live together, usually in relative peace.
In one such eclectic village, though, trouble was brewing, of a predictable and formulaic nature. One morning, a cloud of strange energy descended on the little cluster of houses and quickly dispersed; with it gone, though, the residents noticed that they had been uniformly transformed into identical generic white figures. Used to weird things happening, they simply went on with their lives; when night descended, they saw that the illusion faded, and they breathed a sigh of relief. However, when the sun rose again, they once more became dull and identical.
Clamoring for answers, they gathered in the square, where they noticed a noose had been erected and a large message splashed across the wall. Unlike the complex and often self-righteous manifestos so often put forth in this situation, the message was refreshingly simple:
FUCK ALLA Y'ALL
As usual, the idea of a lynch mob was quickly posited and accepted. The procedure seemed pretty ingrained into the minds of those present, and little explanation or debate was needed. However, one figure asked "How will we know if we got the right people?"; someone helpfully clubbed him over the head, and as he crumpled to the ground, he reverted to his true form.
SleepingOrange was The Curmudgeon. He lived a joyless existence, disparaging everything around him, but was powerless or too apathetic to change anything. He had no powers, and could only win if everyone else lost.
Further convinced by the knowledge that murder brought information, the day's hunt began.
WITH 20 ALIVE, IT TAKES 11 FOR A HARD LYNCH OR 6 FOR A SOFT LYNCH. Deadline votes will be available from day 2 onwards, but are not allowed today. Day 1 will end upon a hard lynch being reached, or on September 21 at noon PST.
In one such eclectic village, though, trouble was brewing, of a predictable and formulaic nature. One morning, a cloud of strange energy descended on the little cluster of houses and quickly dispersed; with it gone, though, the residents noticed that they had been uniformly transformed into identical generic white figures. Used to weird things happening, they simply went on with their lives; when night descended, they saw that the illusion faded, and they breathed a sigh of relief. However, when the sun rose again, they once more became dull and identical.
Clamoring for answers, they gathered in the square, where they noticed a noose had been erected and a large message splashed across the wall. Unlike the complex and often self-righteous manifestos so often put forth in this situation, the message was refreshingly simple:
FUCK ALLA Y'ALL
As usual, the idea of a lynch mob was quickly posited and accepted. The procedure seemed pretty ingrained into the minds of those present, and little explanation or debate was needed. However, one figure asked "How will we know if we got the right people?"; someone helpfully clubbed him over the head, and as he crumpled to the ground, he reverted to his true form.
SleepingOrange was The Curmudgeon. He lived a joyless existence, disparaging everything around him, but was powerless or too apathetic to change anything. He had no powers, and could only win if everyone else lost.
Further convinced by the knowledge that murder brought information, the day's hunt began.
WITH 20 ALIVE, IT TAKES 11 FOR A HARD LYNCH OR 6 FOR A SOFT LYNCH. Deadline votes will be available from day 2 onwards, but are not allowed today. Day 1 will end upon a hard lynch being reached, or on September 21 at noon PST.