Man i just decided bedlam wasn't mafia based on his comment and voted for someone who posted recently. That got out of hand fast.
PSN SeGaTai
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Munkus BeaverYou don't have to attend every argument you are invited to.Philosophy: Stoicism. Politics: Democratic SocialistRegistered User, ClubPAregular
edited March 2012
Voting Closed.
Due to the closeness of the vote, the time that will be needed to doublecheck the votes, and the elaboration needed to write the narration...well, expect it to be up late.
EDIT: Also I am eating dinner : x
Munkus Beaver on
Humor can be dissected as a frog can, but dies in the process.
Capfalcon is on notice for splitting the vote on Anialos/daniant, if it pans out that they're mafia then I'm looking at him to follow them in the dead book.
whoever doesn't get replaced is mafia hey ladies :winky:
Posted from my DyPad 7
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FiggyFighter of the night manChampion of the sunRegistered Userregular
And thanks for not continuing that bandwagon based on my activity. I said it last phalla, and I'll say it again. The enjoyment I get out of these things is having discussions, analyzing votes, etc. I'm active because I find it fun to be active.
In fact, I'd rather be active for 3 days and die on the third than play wallflower and last most of the game. It's just not as fun for me. But in the end, I wouldn't hold it against anyone if I died. A vote for me is a vote for a vanillager, and not a vote for a vanillager special. Which was our Day 1.
Really, as a vanillager you should only be worried about dieing insofar as the kill being wasted. Only survival neutrals and mafia need to stay alive, and even then the later only needs to stay alive in aggregate
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Munkus BeaverYou don't have to attend every argument you are invited to.Philosophy: Stoicism. Politics: Democratic SocialistRegistered User, ClubPAregular
edited March 2012
End of Night 2: Consequences
Up until yesterday, Wade Carmichael figured he was the luckiest guy in the universe. I mean, it made sense when you thought about it: where else would those Dycon security knuckleheads think to drop off smuggled tech but to their quartermaster? This prototype destabilizer was worth enough on the black-market to put his kids through college and pay for a nice villa on a Federation colony. And not a backwater planet either, a decent inner-ring world with sandy beaches and beautiful sunsets...
The dream from two days felt like a forever ago. He hadn't seen the security officers since the explosion, he tried to convince himself that the scraps he saw outside the viewport were from his surplus supply deck and not burned off the arm of his drinking buddies.
A drink.
That's what he needed. Sure, he managed to take out a Confederate loyalist yesterday, but Reuben Kincaid had pleaded for his life. Never once did he admit to being a Confederate spy, or start spouting a crazy manifesto. He just cried and begged and pleaded. Wade was starting to think he didn't have the stomach to be Harbinger's vigilante.
*bzzzrrrrrt*
No, he didn't have a stomach for it after all.
A figure spoke to a smaller, holographic figure on a wristcomm, "Target was carrying prototype technology on it."
"Can you make use of it?"
"I think so."
"Good. My faith in your mission has just doubled."
"Cybrid out."
"Well Ace?" asked Gordon Lewis.
"What, you think she went down quietly?" Albert 'Ace' McKinney said as he slapped on a NeverSayDy-Patch. Oxygen rich environments were hell on Marines. Relieving stress went from a recreational activity to a nervous pow-wow about feelings and shit. If you asked Ace, with his looks like a dumptruck had crashed into his face and the smell like its aftermath, he'd tell you that 'pussy shit was for girls.' About this time, Jennifer Hackshaw would give him a friendly kick in the crotch.
But the 'people' had spoken. With Daedalus on the fritz, it came down to the Delta Squad to enact the will of the people on the sole voice of reason in their clique. It was enough to make Ace talk about his goddam feelings.
"Fuck, man, this ain't right," he waved his arm as if he was waving away feint ideas from getting lodged in his head. "We're killing guys who'd die to protect us from squibs? That ain't right."
"Shit," said Brandon Kendrick.
"Man, she brought it on herself," Gordon said, cleaning his rifle. His fingers were shaking, and he couldn't quite get the brush to reach inside the barrel. There was some grease or blood or something there and it just wouldn't go away. "She faked her visa, man."
"Fuck," Ace spat a hunk of phlegm at Gordon's shoe. "My dad faked his visa to join the Navy cause he had a heart flutter."
"Murmur."
"Whatever!"
"Heart flutter? Your dad's a faggot."
"Shut the fuck up Kendrick!"
Brandon shrugged. "Shit," he said.
"Just...fuck," Ace rubbed his patch for comfort. He held onto the belief that rubbing it would let in just a liiittle more nicotine than usual. He wanted to eat the damn thing right about now. "My dad wasn't no Confederalie, ok? Neither was Jennifer." He slumped back down. "This whole thing's just bullshit."
Brandon nodded. "Shit."
Gordon kept trying to get the brush to reach, but his finger would not. Stop. Trembling.
*Ding don ding*
A tinny voice announced over the loudspeaker.
"Bringing you the best of tomorrow, today. That's the Dycon promise!"
"Attention Harbinger crew, I have repaired the life support protocol for deck Beta. My scans detect no survivors in that area, but if deck Omega becomes compromised, please head toward Deck Beta in an orderly fashion.
I am no longer reading vital signs from the following crewmembers: Jennifer Hackshaw, Earl "Big Boom" Johnston, Wade Carmichael, Reuben Kincaid, or Shauna Silverman. If you have any information about the location of any of these-"
"God dammit Daedalus, are you trying to make the crew panic?"
"I am sorry Captain Benedict, I am only trying to help."
"We had to kill Hackshaw because you shut down for repairs. I thought you said you wouldn't let us get our hands dirty? That you'd keep our consciences clean?"
"I do not understand, Captain. Surely you could have waited for my ordinances to come back online."
"Daedalus, while you were undergoing programming repairs, we were attacked again by the Confederates," Henry Mason adjusted his glasses and stared at the casualty report, written in crayon by Dr. Forbes. "We know about poor Ms. Silverman, her body was dropped from the rafters in the "L Quadrant" of deck Omega. She had a...manifesto of sorts hung from her neck." He placed a piece of sheetmetal with a crudely written message in blood. "But there was a second noose next to her. We don't know if this is a threat, or if they simply failed their second attack."
Henry took a deep sigh. Lecturing people, actual human beings, was easy. You could read their body language, give them eye contact, intimidate them without resorting to actual threats. What did Dycon expect him to do with Daedalus? Roll up a newspaper and slap the keyboard? "It doesn't do us any good for you to tell us what we already know. It was hard enough on the crew to kill Hackshaw by....mistake, we don't need you reminding us about it."
"I am sorry Mr. Mason, would you prefer to not hear about the casualties?"
Henry looked at his list again. Wade Carmichael and Reuben Kincaid were absent.
"No...no. Just be sure to clear it with us before you announce it to the rest of the crew."
"Understood, Mr. Mason."
"And Daedalus?" added Captain Benedict. "You forgot to tell the crew to avoid the Stowaway, Mike. The blasted ship-rat's become infected."
"Understood, Captain."
When it became clear that Benedict was just going to argue with the rest of the executives about not spacing the stowaway when they had the chance, Daedalus began to shut itself down for more repairs. The humans rarely noticed such things.
ADDENDUM:
If only Terence Gerard had a more active, fruitful sex life then this never would have happened. But his mind could not handle the stress of a terrorist attack coupled with his complete lack of sexual activity. He had convinced himself that his lack of activity was due to his looks, not his personality and he was half right. He was a hideous creature that heaved his heavy rolls across the ship with labored breaths that Daedalus often confused for catastrophic hydraulic malfunction.
But if you could get past the face like a blistered corn husk and a body like whale in a diabetic coma, you'd experience the unique personality of a milky fungus. His asshole had more depth and charm.
It came as no surprise that he had a total lack of activity. Even so, the most blusteringly incompetent lab technicians would realize the dangers of autoerotic-asphyxiation with a body built like a Frosty the Mashed-Potato Man and a heart condition. That he had a belt that could be fashioned around his neck at all led the remaining security forces to posthumously charge him with theft.
The autopsy report from Dr. Forbes hypothesized that Terrance, after fashioning the belt into a noose, could not find his genitals with both hands. His death was a mixture of tenacity, insanity and stupidity. He refused to quit after he had started, he was crazy for attempting the stunt at all, and he was stupid as shit for thinking he could find his dick beneath all those layers of blubbery failure.
To add insult to injury, Dr. Forbes listed the cause of death as simply Lack of sexual activity.
CLASSIFIED, INFORMATION SENT TO DYCON CEO Dycon Personnel Files:
Mike, the Stowaway - Capfalcon Has been infected. We're working on bringing up his personnel file.
Wade Carmicheal - Assuran - Killed by CLASSIFIED; Was using a prototype pocket-sized positronic destabilizer to take out the Confederates. Unfortunately, it ran out of juice just before he was murdered. The Positronic destabilizer was not recovered, it is suspected that CLASSIFIED Duncan O'Neal - Jennifer Hackshaw, Marine - SeGaTai - Killed by Marine Ordinance at the behest of the Village; Federation citizen Big Boom, Band Member - Taya - Killed by the Serum Plague; Federation citizen Shauna Silverman - Tayrun - Killed by Confederate Ordinance; Federation citizen Reuben Kincaid - Personface - Killed by prototype ordinance; Federation citizen Terence Gerard, Lab Assistant - warban - LACK OF SEXUAL ACTIVITY, REPORTS SHOW HE WAS NEVER LOVED AND WAS DISOWNED BY EVERY GALACTIC GOVERNMENT
Munkus Beaver on
Humor can be dissected as a frog can, but dies in the process.
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Munkus BeaverYou don't have to attend every argument you are invited to.Philosophy: Stoicism. Politics: Democratic SocialistRegistered User, ClubPAregular
My friend is working on a roguelike game you can play if you want to. (It has free demo)
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Munkus BeaverYou don't have to attend every argument you are invited to.Philosophy: Stoicism. Politics: Democratic SocialistRegistered User, ClubPAregular
Posts
It's a date.
Signed,
Your Captain
this would be a pretty useless power given the nature of when actions have to be in.
Posted from my DyPad 7
though I guess that's sort of different
Munkus phalla.
Due to the closeness of the vote, the time that will be needed to doublecheck the votes, and the elaboration needed to write the narration...well, expect it to be up late.
EDIT: Also I am eating dinner : x
A list of things, should you be of the gifting persuasion
WHO is going to fly the ship?!?!?!?!?
It wasn't Slym.
Posted from my DyPad 7
I feel so unloved.
SeGaTai: 8 (KetBra, Langly, Gaslight, 38thDoe, vertroue, Anialos, corvidae, Shabooty)
Anialos: 7 (Alegis, Egos, Infidel, Phyphor, AkimboLegs, Spoit, shalmelo)
Figgy: 4 (SLyM, Malkor, jackisreal, Smoove Operator)
Personface: 4 (Assuran, ObiFett, Tayrun, towndrunk34)
KetBra: 4 (kime, Figgy, Citizen, godmode)
daniant: 3 (I needed a name to post., romanqwerty, Capfalcon)
Capfalcon is on notice for splitting the vote on Anialos/daniant, if it pans out that they're mafia then I'm looking at him to follow them in the dead book.
And mess up your face? Never.
Posted from my DyPad 7
In fact, I'd rather be active for 3 days and die on the third than play wallflower and last most of the game. It's just not as fun for me. But in the end, I wouldn't hold it against anyone if I died. A vote for me is a vote for a vanillager, and not a vote for a vanillager special. Which was our Day 1.
Up until yesterday, Wade Carmichael figured he was the luckiest guy in the universe. I mean, it made sense when you thought about it: where else would those Dycon security knuckleheads think to drop off smuggled tech but to their quartermaster? This prototype destabilizer was worth enough on the black-market to put his kids through college and pay for a nice villa on a Federation colony. And not a backwater planet either, a decent inner-ring world with sandy beaches and beautiful sunsets...
The dream from two days felt like a forever ago. He hadn't seen the security officers since the explosion, he tried to convince himself that the scraps he saw outside the viewport were from his surplus supply deck and not burned off the arm of his drinking buddies.
A drink.
That's what he needed. Sure, he managed to take out a Confederate loyalist yesterday, but Reuben Kincaid had pleaded for his life. Never once did he admit to being a Confederate spy, or start spouting a crazy manifesto. He just cried and begged and pleaded. Wade was starting to think he didn't have the stomach to be Harbinger's vigilante.
*bzzzrrrrrt*
No, he didn't have a stomach for it after all.
A figure spoke to a smaller, holographic figure on a wristcomm, "Target was carrying prototype technology on it."
"Can you make use of it?"
"I think so."
"Good. My faith in your mission has just doubled."
"Cybrid out."
"Well Ace?" asked Gordon Lewis.
"What, you think she went down quietly?" Albert 'Ace' McKinney said as he slapped on a NeverSayDy-Patch. Oxygen rich environments were hell on Marines. Relieving stress went from a recreational activity to a nervous pow-wow about feelings and shit. If you asked Ace, with his looks like a dumptruck had crashed into his face and the smell like its aftermath, he'd tell you that 'pussy shit was for girls.' About this time, Jennifer Hackshaw would give him a friendly kick in the crotch.
But the 'people' had spoken. With Daedalus on the fritz, it came down to the Delta Squad to enact the will of the people on the sole voice of reason in their clique. It was enough to make Ace talk about his goddam feelings.
"Fuck, man, this ain't right," he waved his arm as if he was waving away feint ideas from getting lodged in his head. "We're killing guys who'd die to protect us from squibs? That ain't right."
"Shit," said Brandon Kendrick.
"Man, she brought it on herself," Gordon said, cleaning his rifle. His fingers were shaking, and he couldn't quite get the brush to reach inside the barrel. There was some grease or blood or something there and it just wouldn't go away. "She faked her visa, man."
"Fuck," Ace spat a hunk of phlegm at Gordon's shoe. "My dad faked his visa to join the Navy cause he had a heart flutter."
"Murmur."
"Whatever!"
"Heart flutter? Your dad's a faggot."
"Shut the fuck up Kendrick!"
Brandon shrugged. "Shit," he said.
"Just...fuck," Ace rubbed his patch for comfort. He held onto the belief that rubbing it would let in just a liiittle more nicotine than usual. He wanted to eat the damn thing right about now. "My dad wasn't no Confederalie, ok? Neither was Jennifer." He slumped back down. "This whole thing's just bullshit."
Brandon nodded. "Shit."
Gordon kept trying to get the brush to reach, but his finger would not. Stop. Trembling.
*Ding don ding*
A tinny voice announced over the loudspeaker.
"Bringing you the best of tomorrow, today. That's the Dycon promise!"
"Attention Harbinger crew, I have repaired the life support protocol for deck Beta. My scans detect no survivors in that area, but if deck Omega becomes compromised, please head toward Deck Beta in an orderly fashion.
I am no longer reading vital signs from the following crewmembers: Jennifer Hackshaw, Earl "Big Boom" Johnston, Wade Carmichael, Reuben Kincaid, or Shauna Silverman. If you have any information about the location of any of these-"
"God dammit Daedalus, are you trying to make the crew panic?"
"I am sorry Captain Benedict, I am only trying to help."
"We had to kill Hackshaw because you shut down for repairs. I thought you said you wouldn't let us get our hands dirty? That you'd keep our consciences clean?"
"I do not understand, Captain. Surely you could have waited for my ordinances to come back online."
"Daedalus, while you were undergoing programming repairs, we were attacked again by the Confederates," Henry Mason adjusted his glasses and stared at the casualty report, written in crayon by Dr. Forbes. "We know about poor Ms. Silverman, her body was dropped from the rafters in the "L Quadrant" of deck Omega. She had a...manifesto of sorts hung from her neck." He placed a piece of sheetmetal with a crudely written message in blood. "But there was a second noose next to her. We don't know if this is a threat, or if they simply failed their second attack."
Henry took a deep sigh. Lecturing people, actual human beings, was easy. You could read their body language, give them eye contact, intimidate them without resorting to actual threats. What did Dycon expect him to do with Daedalus? Roll up a newspaper and slap the keyboard? "It doesn't do us any good for you to tell us what we already know. It was hard enough on the crew to kill Hackshaw by....mistake, we don't need you reminding us about it."
"I am sorry Mr. Mason, would you prefer to not hear about the casualties?"
Henry looked at his list again. Wade Carmichael and Reuben Kincaid were absent.
"No...no. Just be sure to clear it with us before you announce it to the rest of the crew."
"Understood, Mr. Mason."
"And Daedalus?" added Captain Benedict. "You forgot to tell the crew to avoid the Stowaway, Mike. The blasted ship-rat's become infected."
"Understood, Captain."
When it became clear that Benedict was just going to argue with the rest of the executives about not spacing the stowaway when they had the chance, Daedalus began to shut itself down for more repairs. The humans rarely noticed such things.
ADDENDUM:
If only Terence Gerard had a more active, fruitful sex life then this never would have happened. But his mind could not handle the stress of a terrorist attack coupled with his complete lack of sexual activity. He had convinced himself that his lack of activity was due to his looks, not his personality and he was half right. He was a hideous creature that heaved his heavy rolls across the ship with labored breaths that Daedalus often confused for catastrophic hydraulic malfunction.
But if you could get past the face like a blistered corn husk and a body like whale in a diabetic coma, you'd experience the unique personality of a milky fungus. His asshole had more depth and charm.
It came as no surprise that he had a total lack of activity. Even so, the most blusteringly incompetent lab technicians would realize the dangers of autoerotic-asphyxiation with a body built like a Frosty the Mashed-Potato Man and a heart condition. That he had a belt that could be fashioned around his neck at all led the remaining security forces to posthumously charge him with theft.
The autopsy report from Dr. Forbes hypothesized that Terrance, after fashioning the belt into a noose, could not find his genitals with both hands. His death was a mixture of tenacity, insanity and stupidity. He refused to quit after he had started, he was crazy for attempting the stunt at all, and he was stupid as shit for thinking he could find his dick beneath all those layers of blubbery failure.
To add insult to injury, Dr. Forbes listed the cause of death as simply Lack of sexual activity.
CLASSIFIED, INFORMATION SENT TO DYCON CEO
Dycon Personnel Files:
Mike, the Stowaway - Capfalcon Has been infected. We're working on bringing up his personnel file.
Wade Carmicheal - Assuran - Killed by CLASSIFIED; Was using a prototype pocket-sized positronic destabilizer to take out the Confederates. Unfortunately, it ran out of juice just before he was murdered. The Positronic destabilizer was not recovered, it is suspected that CLASSIFIED
Duncan O'Neal - Jennifer Hackshaw, Marine - SeGaTai - Killed by Marine Ordinance at the behest of the Village; Federation citizen
Big Boom, Band Member - Taya - Killed by the Serum Plague; Federation citizen
Shauna Silverman - Tayrun - Killed by Confederate Ordinance; Federation citizen
Reuben Kincaid - Personface - Killed by prototype ordinance; Federation citizen
Terence Gerard, Lab Assistant - warban - LACK OF SEXUAL ACTIVITY, REPORTS SHOW HE WAS NEVER LOVED AND WAS DISOWNED BY EVERY GALACTIC GOVERNMENT
Is this true? I was too busy writing the narration and figuring things out. Let me check on that.
PMs should be going out soon.
Henri Emmanuel Gratien St Pierre in Where No Man Has Gone Before
Lord Augustus Cumberbatch in Eclipse Phase
Well, that was something.
oo000ooo000ooo0000ooo
Henri Emmanuel Gratien St Pierre in Where No Man Has Gone Before
Lord Augustus Cumberbatch in Eclipse Phase
Posted from my DyPad 7
mafiamaifamafiamafiamafia
Nullzone will replace you.
I am going to do a few things, if there isn't another replacement then warban dies.