Frozen Hearts Mafia [Family Ties - Mafia/Survivor Victory]

DAY THREE
Above the Law

JANUARY 18

I didn't need my alarm clock to get out of bed this morning. The frenzied police action that began sometime around four in the morning did a good enough job of arousing me from my slumber. Normally I can deal with the horn honking that populates the city at night, but the sudden overload of alarms and signals told me a much different story.

I got up and turned on the lights in the cafe, seeing small fires emanating from the sewers. The underbelly of the city appeared to be burning, although not totally out of control. The flames did their job, however - the confusion blocked off just about every road in the city, gridlocking all traffic.

Right on cue, I was greeted by Lyncroft, clearly distraught at the crime which suddenly coursed through the veins of the peaceful city he kept watch over. Over the sirens and horns, we shouted back and forth in an effort to try and determine a course of action. No luck there. We ran down the streets and into the nearest unlocked building, locked the door, and stopped to catch our breaths.

We were greeted by a horrifying sight when we turned the lights on, however.

makerofthegames lay dead, his body protruding through a broken window. His back was lacerated with a cleaver, the metal implement driven through the base of his neck. Turning the body over revealed his torso and face were covered in dark grill marks - no surprise given the presence of a portable grill and some bacon nearby. There was also a message carved on the side of the wall.

GET FUCKED, SALAZAR

I didn't take much to piece two and two together. Someone found out about Demetrius's son practicing his craft secretly, and they clearly weren't too happy about it.

makerofthegames has been BRUTALLY MURDERED.

Later that morning, Lyncroft quickly got the full autopsy delivered to me, and I summarized the individual's background below as usual.

Caribou's Den had only recently become a central hub for businesses. Only the recent establishment of factories and other industrial work had spurred the currently unparalleled economic growth. For any city to ever thrive, business is needed - and it went without saying that business survived before in the literal and metaphorical wintry hell that is Caribou's Den. Small, family-owned businesses retained the same profitability today they did many years ago when the city was but an upstarting outpost.

He always looked up to your father. His father was the third in line to run the family business - the Salazar meat shop - and he was destined to be the next owner. Building snowmen, playing baseball, preparing dinner - all were activities the inseparable father and son duo bonded under. The sight of animal blood on his hands became one of comfort rather than disgust. The lifestyle of a butcher was meant for him, and your father would have never been prouder.

makerofthegames was Adam Salazar, and your dream had been destroyed.

The beginning of industrialization portended the end of the family business era. His father, always a resolute and determined man, refused to let business propositions intersect bloodlines and history. With the odds stacked against him, Demetrius kept the family business afloat, holding steadfast to his ideals and immediately rejecting any business proposals industrial executives put forth. Rumor has it that one of the head executives muttering the phrase "the man deserves to burn in hell" before angrily storming out the front door of the Salazar meat shop, his offer of acquisition totally unheeded by Demetrius.

The family business, the property it occupied since the beginning of its existence, and Adam's father were recently incinerated in a fire. Initially believed it was electrical, it was since proven to be arson. Adam Salazar saw it as an act of oppression - a weak means of getting things done, and with an oath of revenge, he intended to show everyone who truly ran the show in Caribou's Den's thriving economy: the small business owners who make it all work. His undertaking was twofold. One, he had to continue learning his father's craft in secret. His secondary objective was to locate those responsible for the death of his livelihood.

makerofthegames was a TOWN VOYEURISTIC WATCHER.

During the Night phase, he could choose someone to watch. Watching the individual would tell him who visited the target in the night. His secret practice of butchery and cooking, however, left him smelling as if he slept in the slaughterhouse all evening. Thus, anyone who visited his target - but not the target themselves - would be able to smell the scent of meat in the air as they went about their business.

makerofthegames was a LOYAL CUSTOMER, and thus held Caribou's Den's best interests at heart. He would achieve victory with his fellow cafegoers when all threats to the safety and stability of Caribou's Den were eliminated.

Once we finished inspecting Adam's body, a click of a loaded gun came next. Whoever had come to do their dirty business of killing the junior Salazar was still lurking in the room, their figure obscured by shadows. Before the individual could fire at Lyncroft, the door beside us flew off its hinges as another officer rushed in. Taking a quick shot at the figure and missing, he was promptly shot as the assassin fled.

Unable to administer any care for the headshot, the officer quickly passed. Examining his badge and ID, Lyncroft soon delivered the upsetting news.

"One of our finest, and one of your regulars."

"Damn," I growled. It was not okay for my own customers to come under fire - two of them had died this dawn alone. Looking over the face of the deceased, I was able to quickly identify the officer as Mirdini.

"You should probably stop sending your finest men to my cafe," I said. "They're going to get killed or arrested so easily."

"I thought having undercover officers would help," Lyncroft said, trying not to let tears flow from his eyes. "We've been able to find one of them - would've much rather had her alive, but I'll take what I can get."

"Maybe if we caught her alive, we wouldn't have so much death on our hands. This has to be retaliation."

"Just keep doing what you're doing," Lyncroft said. "We found one, we'll find the others."

Below's a summary about that fallen officer:

Mirdini has been MURDERED.

Every city needed law enforcement. No matter how peaceful or tranquil a city may seem, that safety is only due to the careful, diligent watch of the police. Recent events have (very clearly) shown that even a seemingly safe city has underlying tensions that can escalate to dramatic crime at any moment.

For Mirdini, however, this wasn't a job he wanted. Chasing down criminals and hitting them with a taser gun wasn't your idea of law enforcement activities. It's a necessary job, but one he'd rather not do. He envied coworkers who sat behind desks and doing paperwork and deductive work. Chasing and arresting felt like monotonous, thankless work, and you he harbored a fear of crossing the threshold of police brutality.

Thankfully, a certain Officer Colton Hawthorne found an opportunity to do a job he liked better.

Turns out police watch was requested by Lyncroft for Vincent's cafe - he was former active duty police officer himself, and the Chief of Police feared that maligned forces would attempt to take my life. Mirdini also overheard plans that I would kick up discussion to see if any verbal cues could catch criminals. It was contrived plan in his opinion, but whatever got the force closer to the answers worked for him. He found comfort in being nothing more than a plainclothes informant.

Mirdini was a TOWN ONE-SHOT LYNCHPROOF.

As an undercover cop, Mirdini would automatically send away the police officers who came to arrest him, using nothing more than a simple hand motion. Legal immunity couldn't work forever - if the crowd was convinced he was corrupt or acting as a double agent for the criminals, he would be subject to arrest and background checks as usual.

Mirdini was a LOYAL CUSTOMER, and thus held Caribou's Den's best interests at heart. He would achieve victory with his fellow cafegoers when all threats to the safety and stability of Caribou's Den were eliminated.

--

Later in the day. Finally opened the cafe for real after another two hours of uneasy sleep. Lyncroft didn't drop by for morning coffee, but the others trickled in. They lined up to read the newest reports and my retelling of the story, listening intently as I prepared coffees and took their money.

I soon noticed another was missing. Fearing the worst, I immediately reached out to summon Lyncroft for an investigation. Mid-ring, however, the missing patron stumbled into the cafe with his belongings in a few bags.

"Damn fires last night," icanhasdonut grumbled. "A handful of them managed to ignite buildings connected to the sewer system. My home happened to be one of them." Rather dejectedly, he sat down without ordering his coffee, pushing some overflowing clothes back into his bag, trying to fit the remainder of his possessions into his luggage.

icanhasdonut's house has been BURNED TO THE GROUND.

Another day, another round of discussion. Let's hope we actually get somewhere this time - the last 24 hours have my head spinning.

-V.B.

Day Three ends July 3rd, 12AM EST (about 120 hours from now).

With 14 players alive, it takes 8 to lynch and 5 for soft lynch.

Livelist (14/19)
Affle
icanhasdonut
Palamedes
OzTheWizard
Mister Visceral
SupahKiven
Garuru
Acionyx
Truegreen
Stiqqery
Schazer
Ginx-sama
Granolaman
Cat

I'm tired and will do directory stuff tomorrow morning or evening