I knew you were being faaaaar too glib in your posts today, so I suspected shenanigans. I've had your name redvoted in a new tab for the last four hours, ready to go if you voted.
See, I tend to have a different view of personal win conditions versus factional ones. The only reason I was inclined to go for my own personal condition was because it was in effect a group win. But hey, that's phalla.
Wildcat on
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lonelyahavaCall me Ahava ~~She/Her~~Move to New ZealandRegistered Userregular
edited August 2009
No. Not until after narration goes up can the dead talk.
I was here when it happened. Truth be told, these last few nights, I have feared for my unlife. I had feared that Anstice would discover that I had been protecting Jacob rather than he and take offense, and feared that Jacob might turn on Anstice, despite my urgings to the contrary.
I confess to a sense of relief, that neither of these unhappy events occurs. To be honest it is dangerous, putting these words to paper; neither of my compatriots are strictly trustworthy. But I feel it necessary to record these final words for posterity.
The ancients have fallen, most of them. Gehenna, we hope, has come and gone, though in a guise none of us anticipated. The Queen of the Damned was the first to fall, in a coup perpetrated by one of her own blood. The enigmatic ancient known only as the Master was destroyed many nights ago.
We have lost some of our own, as well. The Tremere, Slutslaugher, was the first of our Camarilla brethren to fall. Next fell Verne Domingo, the Toreador, as he tried to sway the crowd to his side. And finally Christine, the Malkavian, who I admit I do not miss. Few things truly frighten me, but the idea of what her madness might have spawned in these final nights terrifies me.
The only doubt I have is that no one has heard from the Nosferatu, Varros. The sense of trepidation at this thought does not go unnoticed. I knew he was among us, and often felt his presence. I assumed he watched us out of habit, like any of the Sewer Rats, but he has vanished, and there is no evidence of his demise. Where has he gone?
The death of Dracula, I also must admit, amazed me. The monster nearly at the head of the Red List was a welcome death, even if it was a human who struck the final blow. My ally in that endeavor, the man known as Emmet Cullen, is no longer with us, and I truly feel sorry for that. I feel sorrier that I did nothing to stop his demise. He, like most of Jacob’s victims these last nights, did nothing to deserve their fates.
Anstice feels hopeful, confident we can begin anew, start a new Camarilla and spawn our own childer, ruling more perfectly than before. I confess I find an attraction in the idea, but I cannot say whether those thoughts are my own, or his…
* * *
Beckett paused, looking away from his writing. He had heard something… but…
It couldn’t be.
“Oh you devious bastard, you’re more insane than I thought…”
* * *
“JACOB MOTHERFUCKING WILHELM, IN THE HIZZOUSE, YOU FURRY-FUCKING SON OF A MOTHERLESS SUCKER OF GOATCOCK! CAN BECKY COME OUT AN’ PLAY?”
The flames leapt up all around the cabin. It was no easy thing for most vampire, to use fire as a weapon, but Jacob had few qualms about it. He’d known about Beckett working with the Cullens, and he didn’t trust the fucker not to roll on him to the Ventrue.
So it was time to end it. They both died tonight.
“BURN, BITCH, LIKE YOUR DADDY’S COCK AFTER DIVIN’ INTO MOMMA’S CROTCH-ROT! YEEEEEHAAAAW!”
* * *
An hour later, covered in soot, Jacob made his final move in the Jyhad. If there was anything his sire taught him (before Jacob cut off his arms and legs and left him for the sun, of course), it was never trust any fucking Lick with a single mote of power.
So when Anstice met him in the woods halfway to Beckett’s place at the head of a mob of… humans, of all things… Jacob was hardly surprised. And he was ready.
He grinned, and spoke, in a relatively reasonable tone of voice, for once.
“Ooooh look at the pussy Blueblood. Look at all his lil’ friends.”
Jacob pulled something out of an inside jacket pocket, and smirked.
“You ain’t the only one with friends, you sorry son of a bitch.”
He held the item in his hands up, for everyone to see. It was a small box, with a tiny antenna hanging from it, and a single button on the center. Anstice stared at it in confusion, and just as Jacob spoke, he realized what it was.
“BUT MINE COME WITH COMPLIMENTARY FUCKING EXPLOSIONS! RUN, BITCHNUTS, RUN FOR YOUR DADDY!”
Cackling, Jacob pressed the button, then turned and ran.
Anstice had just long enough to realize that everything he’d been working towards from day one had fallen apart as the crude explosives, packed with shards of wood and ball bearings, went off all around him and his makeshift mob.
* * *
Ten minutes later, Jacob grinned to himself as he sat astride the third stolen motorcycle he’d had to acquire in less than two days. He’d done it. He’d actually done it.
He’d won the fucking Jyhad.
Caine could suck his big fat fucking cock.
* * *
Somewhere nearby, a clutch of twisted monsters lingered, making soft chittering noises to one another. There were a dozen of them, plus one, and of them only the final one looked even remotely human. The twelve… things… were more insectoid than anything else, now, twisted by thousands of years of unlife with a blood curse they could not break and the monstrous will of their master.
The one that looked vaguely human was Varros Dominus, given a position of favor and trust for services given to his grandsire.
Behind them stood one final figure, that very grandsire in question. He did not speak, did not communicate in any way, but somehow his children knew his will. Absimiliard watched, and with a single motion, ordered the Nictuku to pursue the final survivor.
Blood had been spilt in rivers, and he had awoken. Beckett had been wrong.
Gehenna had not yet begun.
RESULTS
Wildcat – Anstice Greyson – Killed with his mob.
GrimmyTOA – Beckett, Gangrel – Burned by JACOB MOTHERFUCKING WILHELM.
Jacob Wilhelm is the Last Badass Standing.
Jacob Wilhelm has achieved Total Anarchy.
Game Over WINNERS
Kay – Maharet – Martyrdom of the Matriarch
Burnage – Van Helsing – Kill the Beast
Hippie – Encyclopedia Vampirica/Information Victory
Mr Defecation – Jacob Wilhelm, Brujah – Last Badass Standing/Anarchy Victory
An explanation. A mechanic Ahava and I have used before, and that we decided to reuse for this game, was that any tied vote did not kill any of the voted parties… but killed the tying voter, instead. We used this same mechanic in the Phallamandments, where it ended up killing FunkyWaltDogg.
Congratulations to Kay, Hippie, Burnage, and especially to Mr.D. Well done, all four of you.
An explanation. A mechanic Ahava and I have used before, and that we decided to reuse for this game, was that any tied vote did not kill any of the voted parties… but killed the tying voter, instead. We used this same mechanic in the Phallamandments, where it ended up killing FunkyWaltDogg.
... Off-topic, but that's what killed FWD in Phallamandments? I thought the mafia killed the vote leader, expected the vote to trickle down onto a three-way tie, but FWD had a double-vote power, voted for himself and accidentally made himself second place in the vote and thus the victim of the trickle-down.
I'm not sure if Mr. D is implying Wildcat will grudge kill him for eternity or if he doesn't realize he won.
This has been an interesting game to spectate.
He's right though.
Quite a harsh mechanic when only three players are left, mind you. But then again, if I lose because I wasn't willing to fuck over teammates I can live with that.
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Steam
Steam
Steam
Steam
STUPID SLOW BOARDS!!!!!!
Democrats Abroad! || Vote From Abroad
Steam
How fascinating.
Finishing up Narration now...
Steam
Steam
Steam
Democrats Abroad! || Vote From Abroad
being vampires and all that
Steam
Steam
A-fucking-men, you undead scum.
Jyhad
I was here when it happened. Truth be told, these last few nights, I have feared for my unlife. I had feared that Anstice would discover that I had been protecting Jacob rather than he and take offense, and feared that Jacob might turn on Anstice, despite my urgings to the contrary.
I confess to a sense of relief, that neither of these unhappy events occurs. To be honest it is dangerous, putting these words to paper; neither of my compatriots are strictly trustworthy. But I feel it necessary to record these final words for posterity.
The ancients have fallen, most of them. Gehenna, we hope, has come and gone, though in a guise none of us anticipated. The Queen of the Damned was the first to fall, in a coup perpetrated by one of her own blood. The enigmatic ancient known only as the Master was destroyed many nights ago.
We have lost some of our own, as well. The Tremere, Slutslaugher, was the first of our Camarilla brethren to fall. Next fell Verne Domingo, the Toreador, as he tried to sway the crowd to his side. And finally Christine, the Malkavian, who I admit I do not miss. Few things truly frighten me, but the idea of what her madness might have spawned in these final nights terrifies me.
The only doubt I have is that no one has heard from the Nosferatu, Varros. The sense of trepidation at this thought does not go unnoticed. I knew he was among us, and often felt his presence. I assumed he watched us out of habit, like any of the Sewer Rats, but he has vanished, and there is no evidence of his demise. Where has he gone?
The death of Dracula, I also must admit, amazed me. The monster nearly at the head of the Red List was a welcome death, even if it was a human who struck the final blow. My ally in that endeavor, the man known as Emmet Cullen, is no longer with us, and I truly feel sorry for that. I feel sorrier that I did nothing to stop his demise. He, like most of Jacob’s victims these last nights, did nothing to deserve their fates.
Anstice feels hopeful, confident we can begin anew, start a new Camarilla and spawn our own childer, ruling more perfectly than before. I confess I find an attraction in the idea, but I cannot say whether those thoughts are my own, or his…
Beckett paused, looking away from his writing. He had heard something… but…
It couldn’t be.
“Oh you devious bastard, you’re more insane than I thought…”
“JACOB MOTHERFUCKING WILHELM, IN THE HIZZOUSE, YOU FURRY-FUCKING SON OF A MOTHERLESS SUCKER OF GOATCOCK! CAN BECKY COME OUT AN’ PLAY?”
The flames leapt up all around the cabin. It was no easy thing for most vampire, to use fire as a weapon, but Jacob had few qualms about it. He’d known about Beckett working with the Cullens, and he didn’t trust the fucker not to roll on him to the Ventrue.
So it was time to end it. They both died tonight.
“BURN, BITCH, LIKE YOUR DADDY’S COCK AFTER DIVIN’ INTO MOMMA’S CROTCH-ROT! YEEEEEHAAAAW!”
An hour later, covered in soot, Jacob made his final move in the Jyhad. If there was anything his sire taught him (before Jacob cut off his arms and legs and left him for the sun, of course), it was never trust any fucking Lick with a single mote of power.
So when Anstice met him in the woods halfway to Beckett’s place at the head of a mob of… humans, of all things… Jacob was hardly surprised. And he was ready.
He grinned, and spoke, in a relatively reasonable tone of voice, for once.
“Ooooh look at the pussy Blueblood. Look at all his lil’ friends.”
Jacob pulled something out of an inside jacket pocket, and smirked.
“You ain’t the only one with friends, you sorry son of a bitch.”
He held the item in his hands up, for everyone to see. It was a small box, with a tiny antenna hanging from it, and a single button on the center. Anstice stared at it in confusion, and just as Jacob spoke, he realized what it was.
“BUT MINE COME WITH COMPLIMENTARY FUCKING EXPLOSIONS! RUN, BITCHNUTS, RUN FOR YOUR DADDY!”
Cackling, Jacob pressed the button, then turned and ran.
Anstice had just long enough to realize that everything he’d been working towards from day one had fallen apart as the crude explosives, packed with shards of wood and ball bearings, went off all around him and his makeshift mob.
Ten minutes later, Jacob grinned to himself as he sat astride the third stolen motorcycle he’d had to acquire in less than two days. He’d done it. He’d actually done it.
He’d won the fucking Jyhad.
Caine could suck his big fat fucking cock.
Somewhere nearby, a clutch of twisted monsters lingered, making soft chittering noises to one another. There were a dozen of them, plus one, and of them only the final one looked even remotely human. The twelve… things… were more insectoid than anything else, now, twisted by thousands of years of unlife with a blood curse they could not break and the monstrous will of their master.
The one that looked vaguely human was Varros Dominus, given a position of favor and trust for services given to his grandsire.
Behind them stood one final figure, that very grandsire in question. He did not speak, did not communicate in any way, but somehow his children knew his will. Absimiliard watched, and with a single motion, ordered the Nictuku to pursue the final survivor.
Blood had been spilt in rivers, and he had awoken. Beckett had been wrong.
Gehenna had not yet begun.
Wildcat – Anstice Greyson – Killed with his mob.
GrimmyTOA – Beckett, Gangrel – Burned by JACOB MOTHERFUCKING WILHELM.
Jacob Wilhelm is the Last Badass Standing.
Jacob Wilhelm has achieved Total Anarchy.
WINNERS
Burnage – Van Helsing – Kill the Beast
Hippie – Encyclopedia Vampirica/Information Victory
Mr Defecation – Jacob Wilhelm, Brujah – Last Badass Standing/Anarchy Victory
Congratulations to Kay, Hippie, Burnage, and especially to Mr.D. Well done, all four of you.
Fail.
... Off-topic, but that's what killed FWD in Phallamandments? I thought the mafia killed the vote leader, expected the vote to trickle down onto a three-way tie, but FWD had a double-vote power, voted for himself and accidentally made himself second place in the vote and thus the victim of the trickle-down.
Steam
This has been an interesting game to spectate.
White FC: 0819 3350 1787
He's right though.
Quite a harsh mechanic when only three players are left, mind you. But then again, if I lose because I wasn't willing to fuck over teammates I can live with that.
Being masoned to Kime....
IS NOT A GOOD POWER!
You've obviously never been masoned to Erich Zahn.
Steam
So sad.
Boards are running ridiculously slow for me.... I'm gonna try and get the rolses and things up in a moment.
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