|Size||17 Players (Large)|
|Start Date||December 23, 2008|
|Winning Faction||Innocents (Goodies)|
|First to Die||superpsyche & dawh|
|Last Remaining||wolftail, Fox, snowthinker, Einkil, Prof. Templeton, Limey, Sinistral|
Mafiaholics' Mafia was a game designed and hosted by Yoruichi-san based on on the names of various mafia players, mafiaholics.
It began on December 23, 2008 and ended in a Innocents (Goodies) win in D5 (January 5, 2009).
Game Mechanics Edit
- If there is a tie in a lynch vote, no one is lynched.
- Mafia: Win if all the Innocents are dead. The member that will perform the Night's group kill will be randomly determined.
- 39-san: Likes to write herself into the story. Every Night, she may choose what if any actions will appear to have been taken on her in the Night Post. Is revealed when she dies. Always loses coin tosses against BrandonA.
- Sherry Cane: Intelligent and highly influential. Each Day, she may choose to alter the weight of her vote from 0-2. Must PM the host before the Day ends.
- Kitty: Makes the best popcorn. Every Night she may choose someone to give popcorn to, and they will be so enthralled with it they will not perform an action for the next Night/Day cycle.
Independents: Individual win conditions.
- GizzlePurl: Has a tendency to get lynched on the first day. Wins if she is lynched on Day 1. If she fails, she joins the Mafia and bakes brownies, which she gives to one person a Night. If that person is attacked, they will share their brownies and the attacker will be put off from his attack by the chocolate high.
- Dextral: Very astute and thinks strategically. Wins if he can successfully predict 3 actions and their targets. Every Night, he may submit 2 predictions for that Night/Day cycle, but only one can count towards his win (if both turn out to be true). The 2 predictions cannot be on the same role.
- Joe's Teacher: Not afraid to take on the big names. He wins if 39-san, Dextral, BrandonA, and Eye-san are dead. Any Night, but not two in a row, may choose someone to kill.
Innocents: Win if all the Baddies are dead.
- BrandonA: Always suspected. When checked, appears as a random (living) Baddie. If attacked at Night, has a 50% chance of hiding out in a safehouse where he cannot be found. Always wins coin tosses against 39-san.
- Hwad: Writes long, insightful posts. Every day, he may ask a True/False question to the host using his posts, which will be hidden in his with a cipher known only to the host and himself.
- VVoon: Every day, his vote is randomly cast for a living player. The change will not be shown on the roster, but he is informed of who his vote will go to after the Night Post. If he is killed, he will shout out the name of his attacker. If he is lynched, he will randomly shout out one of the roles of the players voting for him.
- Eye-san: Uses his all-seeing eyes to learn the role of a player each Day. Also, has VIP status which allows him to edit his own posts at will (until he is dead of course). Cannot be saved.
- Off-white Cells: Good-natured and intelligent. Every Night, he chooses someone to protect. If that person is targeted for a kill, he talks their attacker into leaving the target alone, thus saving them. Also, due to his eloquence, if the save is successful, the person he saved will be so grateful that they will reveal their role to him.
- Mekel: Kill or be killed. Takes out his frustration at being a popular lynch target by attacking at Night. Any Night, but not two in a row, may choose a target to attack. However, due to his busy schedule, there is a 25% chance that he will be confused and will attack a random other target instead.
- PsychoArtist: Every Night/Day cycle, has the abilities of one of the other roles, which is randomly chosen but will never be the same two nights in a row.
- Frozen_Dinner: Not one for much discussion, but has other things going on. Every Night, may choose to send a secret message (through the host) to another player, who may choose to respond (also through the host).
- De-Frost: Every Night, chooses a player to target and their action is delayed by one Night/Day.
- Anti-Realism: Every Night, may choose two players to switch the roles of. If at least one of the players is a baddie, the switch fails, unless they are both Mafia. If both are innocents, or both are Mafia, then it will be a success. He is informed after the Night Post if the switch fails.
- Mr. Prof. T: Good at pretending to be someone he's not. If he is attacked at Night, he has a 25% chance of killing his attacker, unless it is Joe's Teacher, who he has an 100% chance of killing. "I pity the foo that attack me!"
Host's Summary Edit
Game Idea and Expectations Edit
Winning Faction Edit
- Cherry Lane - Eye-san
- wolftail - Off-White cells
- The Fox - Psychoartist
- crazypainter - De-frost
- Einkil - BrandonA
- Prof. Templeton - Hwad
- dawh - Anti-realism
- somhairle - Mekel
- limeliam - Vvoon
- superpsyche - Mr. Prof. T
- Sinistral - Frozen Dinner
Day and Night Posts Edit
|Intro: Ode to Joy of Mafiaholics!|
|Corpulent snowflakes drifting dilatorily were ambuscaded in the headlights of the copious van that percolated up in front of 4 Beau D.N. Drive. The van’s passengers were comprised of the members of the 13th Sector of Mafiaholics’ Anomalous, a support group for recovering mafiaholics, who had come to this sanctum on their first annual group retreat.
Up in the passenger seat, jolted awake by the force of the carriage coming to a stop, Mekel began to fumble desperately for the door handle. Grasping it, he shoved the door open and tumbled out onto the snow-covered ground. Oblivious, Antirealism, in the driver’s seat, continued to rant on gaily about his ideas, as he had been doing during the entire four-hour (although it had seemed like an eternity to Mekel) drive. And Antirealism had a lot of ideas, and was particularly opinionated on the topic of atheism. Yep, Mekel was ready to kill somebody.
The door in the back of the van pitched open. Out stepped a self-assured figure donning sunglasses. Eye-san was ready to see what would go down with his special eyes. He walked phlegmatically up the cobble-stone path to the entrance of the lodge and entered.
Watching his movements from a secluded dark corner in the back of the van was Joe’s Teacher. His long bony fingers twitched and his neck jerked to one side as his mind raced. He couldn’t wait to wipe that cocksure grin from Eye-san’s face. He also was determined to get that drunken coward, that sneaky logician, and their little cat too…
As 39-san pulled her large black duffle bag out of the back of the van, Off-white Cells approached her with a friendly smile on his face. “Can I help you with that?” he asked in a jovial tone. Feigning a smile, 39-san nodded and handed the bag into Off-white Cells’ hands. It abruptly dropped to the ground, resonating loud metallic clanking as it landed.
“What do you have in there?” Off-white Cells inquired good-humoredly. He took a deep breath and channeled all his strength into one giant heave, which barely succeeded in lifting the unwieldy object. Then he added jokingly, “Weapons?”
39-san’s eyes widened. “Nooo!” she exclaimed hastily, in a tone that was just a bit too loud, “Of course not…why in the world would you think that?” A nervous laugh escaped her pink lips. Her golden eyes darted around anxiously as she searched her mind for an explanation. “I have…uh…shoes! Yeah, that’s it, shoes!” 39-san waved her hand dismissively. “You know us girls and our shoes…” More nervous laughter. Suddenly falling silent, she swiped the bag from Off-white Cells’ hands, flung it effortlessly over her shoulder, and hurriedly traipsed into the lodge, leaving Off-white Cells standing in the snow with a befuddled look on his face, scratching his head.
A welcoming golden warmth enveloped 39-san as she entered the lodge. She shivered. Looking up, her gaze travailed across the lobby and met those of Sherry Cane’s, and she held up her right hand in a signal. Sherry Cane nodded in acknowledgment. She would make her rounds to scope out the ins and outs of this new stage for their murderous Acts.
Perched next to VVoon, Kitty stifled a yawn (Who cared about America? They’re idiots anyways for not using the metric system). Catching site of Sherry Cane, she straightened and scrambled to her feet. “Anyone want popcorn?” she catechized in an ingenuous tone. Not waiting for the replies, she impelled out of the room, brushing by Frozen_Dinner, who was leaning in the shadows of the doorway, watching keenly but quietly.
Sherry Cane and Kitty exchanged some conspiratorial words in low voices as they headed towards the kitchen together. Upon arrival, they were greeted GizzlePurl, who was taking some fresh-baked brownies out of the oven with mitted hands. Putting the pan on the counter next to a pitcher of lemonade, GizzlePurl smiled brightly and waved them in. Kitty glanced at Sherry Cane, who nodded, before bounding in. Sherry Cane continued on her way.
Passing into the darkened hallway where the bedrooms were located, Sherry Cane came across a man who was stumbling along the side of the hall, holding a thermos in one hand and patting haphazardly along the walls with the other. His form was completely swathed in darkness, except for his eyes (shifty-looking ones at that), on which, through a series of indescribable events, all the remnants of light in the hallway were focused to. Sherry Cane shook her head in disdain and recommenced her mission.
Hearing her footsteps fade into the distance, BrandonA twisted the cap off the thermos and took a greedy swig of the eggnog (that he had added an extra ‘kick’ to). As he re-capped the thermos, he smiled smugly to himself. There was no way he was falling for their tricks. Now he just had to find a good secret hiding place. He moved on, his shifty eyes glinting in the moonlight.
From within the darkest shadows, a pair of shrewd, calculating eyes watched. Dextral had calculated the exact moment that BrandonA would take that sip, as well as the loudness of Sherry Cane’s sigh, and the salt content (by percentage weight as well as by percentage volume) of Kitty’s popcorn (proving it was a treat best forgone by those with hypertension). There was only one person he couldn’t predict…
Icy fingers fell on Dextral’s neck. A scream arose in his throat, clogging it. He turned around…slowly…and his bulging eyes fell upon the image of…PsychoArtist’s dreamily grinning face. “I think I would like some Pad Thai,” she murmured, staring absent-mindedly out the window into the night.
Outside, the snowfall thickened.
|Night One: Deck The Halls with Bodies of Holics...|
|T’was the Night before Christmas, and all through the house (or lodge in this case), not a creature was stirring, not even a…
Yeah, right. We are talking about Mafiaholics, aren’t we? With them, there’s always something a’stirrin…;P
Along the hallway between the living room and the kitchen, Sherry Cane treaded carefully. After confirming that the living room was vacant, she was going to give Kitty the signal that the coast was clear.
Suddenly, a pair of arms wrapped themselves tightly around her from behind. Well-trained in mafiartial arts, Sherry Cane stiffened and reached deftly for the dagger hidden in her belt. As she was about to draw it out, a voice chattered in her ear, “Wow, I guess I’m not the only one too excited to sleep after all!”
Superpsyche let Sherry Cane out of the bear hug, and continued her prattle, “I’m super-psyched about this trip! This is great. This lodge is so warm and cozy. The hot cocoa is divine. The carpet is so incredibly soft. And the beds are so comfy….”
“Yes,” interrupted Sherry Cane, rolling her eyes. She put her arms on Superpsyche’s shoulders and spun her around, then gave her a solid push. “And you should go to bed, so you’re well rested for tomorrow…”
Superpsyche shook her head fervently as she started to amble down the hall. “I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep tonight. Or tomorrow night. Or the night after that,” she let out a giggle. “I think I’m going to be this way during the entire stay!”
A look of alarm crossed Sherry Cane’s face. “Wait…” she called out, stepping towards Superpsyche.
“Hmmm?” As Superpsyche stopped and turned around, she alighted, “Oh! And you know what the best part is? The people here! They’re just so full of surprises!” She smiled and looked into Sherry Cane’s eyes as…
…the dagger was thrust into her stomach. Blood spurted out of the wound and flowed down, melding into the (incredibly soft) wine-colored carpet. As her body crumpled to the ground, Sherry Cane wiped off her dagger and returned it to its place. Then she let out a sigh of contentment. Ahhh…silence.
Hankering for a mid-night snack, Sinistral tramped down the hall from the bedrooms to the kitchen. One of the bedroom doors creaked open as he passed. A figure wrapped in a blanket stepped out. It was De-Frost. His face had an unhealthy pale gray pallor. He was shivering as he hugged the blanket tightly around him.
Sinistral’s brows furrowed in concern. “You look like you’re freezing,” he observed. “Come on, let’s go warm you up by the fireplace." Then he reached out and grabbed De-Frost by the wrist, and led him towards the living room.
Unbeknownst to him, De-Frost was using his secret ability to augment the Second Law of Thermodynamics. When they arrived at the living room entrance, De-Frost pulled out of Sinistral’s grip. “Thanks a lot,” he said, a twinkle in his eye. His skin now glowed with golden radiance in the firelight. He unwrapped himself from the blanket, handed it over to Sinistral, turned, and walked away.
Sinistral stood there with a confused look on his face. Suddenly, he realized he felt unnaturally cold. Shivering, he bundled the blanket around himself. As he ambulated slowly towards the fireplace, he thought wearily, I don’t really feel like doing anything right now…maybe tomorrow…
The hall with the other bedrooms was dark. Creeping silently down it was a shadowy figure sporting a black bag. Dawh cast furtive glances left and right as he reached into the bag and slowly pulled out…a laptop. They had been banned on the retreat (“No temptations” the sponsors had admonished), but Dawh had cleverly snuck one past their watch. Walking past a window, through which moonlight streamed in, he opened the cover and pushed the power button.
Dawh frowned as the images of his sponsors’ reproachful faces appeared in his mind. Just one more game…he pleaded with his conscience. The blue ‘welcome’ screen appeared and the first notes of the music that accompanied it sounded. He hastily jammed down the mute button with fingers that were jittery with excitement.
He was so enthralled he didn’t take notice of the footsteps insinuating behind him. Briefly, the moonlight illuminated a shadow glancing past the window. The silhouette had something raised above its head…something that looked like a baseball bat.
Suddenly, a groan of anguish escaped from Dawh’s lips. The screen said: No wireless networks detected. Stupid cottage in the middle of nowhere! He vexed angrily. Maybe…I could take the van and drive the 20 miles into town…I remember passing by a Starbucks…or actually, make that 3 Starbucks…I’d be back by morning…so no one would notice…
The cogitations of his mind were terminated by the baseball bat crushing his skull. The laptop crashed to the ground. It was soon followed by Dawh’s body. Above it, the face appeared in the moonlight. Joe’s Teacher’s thin lips curved into a malicious smile. He swung the bloody bat over his shoulder as he stepped over Dawh and into the pool of blood that was leaking out by Dawh’s head.
He hummed to himself in a low tone as he cantered down the hallway into the darkness. Fa la la la la, la la la la. Behind him was left a trail of bloody footprints leading into oblivion. At the point of their onset, the laptop screen flashed as it refreshed. A message appeared: Wireless Networks Found!
...And then there were 15…
|Day One: The Sound of Music...to Mafia Ears|
|At 7 am on the next bright and sunny morning, the residents of 4. Beau D.N. Drive were awakened to the harmonious chords of…The Fox’s screaming. Rushing out of their bedrooms, they found her standing above Dawh’s body. Frightened murmurs propagated through the group: “How terrible!”; “Who could have done this?”; “Poor Dawh…”; “Hey, where did that laptop come from? How in the world did he get it past the eagle eyes of our sponsors?” (At this 39-san smiled to herself enigmatically).
Wolftail offered to get The Fox some water and sprinted off to the kitchen. Moments later, the second melodious round of screaming began. Hastening towards the sound, the group found Wolftail standing over the body of Superpsyche.
Agitation stirred amidst the group as more murmurs floated around the room. Keeping his usual cool, Itachi picked up the phone in the hallway to call the police. He frowned at the absence of a dial tone. “Line’s dead.”
“Well,” Shadow reasoned calmly as he headed towards the door. “Some of us could drive the van into town and get the police.” He was turned to the group to gage their reactions as he pulled open the door…and an avalanche of snow collapsed onto him. After a minute, Shadow managed to extract himself from the snow pile and glanced out over the white ocean. “Uh oh,” he said, turning back to the group with a disappointed expression on his face. “Looks like the van is good and buried. I guess we’re not going anywhere for quite a while.”
Upon hearing this piece of bad news, the murmurs became more panicked. “So you mean we’re stuck here…with a murderer?”
“No,” Prof. Templeton’s assertion rang clearly through the room. Everyone turned to see him hunching over the corpse of Superpsyche. He shook his head and stated “I’m afraid it’s much more dire than that.” He pointed to the stab wound. “See this wound? It’s very clean and precise. This was the work of a professional. Whereas the head-bashing job on Dawh was done by a maniac.” Prof. Templeton looked at the group gravely above his glasses. “This means that we’re dealing with two different killers.”
Frantic cries were overlaid upon each other rapidly. “How can this be?”; “What do we do?”; “We can’t just sit here and wait to be killed.”; “We have to find the killer!”
Suddenly, ominous music began to play and Impervious’s eyes widened. “Wait…” he barely managed to choke out the words. “If we’re snowed in…that means the killer is still here! They could be among us!” All the members in the room shivered, whether it was due to this statement or to the sudden draft coming in from the open door was known only to each individual.
Everyone’s eyes darted around suspiciously at each other. Who were the killers? Random number generated accusations began floating around in the air. Was it Einkil? O’mally? Cuberoot? The group soon realized that the problem with that method, was that every time anyone closed their eyes, the random number generated suspect would change. More discussion followed, accompanied by the tones of Beethoven’s Fifth. As the music became more heated, so did the arguments. At the climax, it was decided…that they couldn’t decided between Limeliam and Frozen_in_fire, so their best option was obviously to sleep on it another Night and think about it more in the morning. After all, what could happen in one Night? More ominous music played.
With trepidation and disquiet, the members of the group dispersed and headed towards their own rooms. Soft, ambivalent chords followed them. Everyone was so lost in their own cogitations that they failed to notice Kitty hiding her MP3 player in her pocket.
|Night Two: Deadly-Silent Night|
|Outside in the Night sky, drifting clouds periodically obscured the luminescence of the moon from casting its radiant glow on the suffocating blanket of pure white snow. Temporily, the moonlight was unleashed into the window of 4 Beau D.N. Drive to reveal Wolftail walking alone down the dark hallway.
The moonlight was once again incarcerated by the clouds, but Wolftail didn’t notice. She was lost in thought. The shocking events of the Day played over and over in her mind. The murders had cast a shadow of dysphoria and disquietude on the group. And there was something bothering her about the way things ended, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on yet…
Wolftail’s brows furrowed as she tried to focus. The moonlight was liberated again, and this time as it poured in through the window, it illuminated the ominous figure following close on Wolftail’s heels.
She came to an abrupt halt as something dawned on her. The figure behind her stopped too. It reached out a hand towards Wolftail. There was something in that hand, something that carried the deadly scent of the Mafia on it. That scent wafted convulsively towards Wolftail’s nose. A shiver went down her spine as the recognized it.
Wolftail turned slowly, trembling with agitation. Her widened eyes alight upon a face, a smiling face. Her stalker thrust the object in its hand at her…
“Popcorn?” PsychoArtist asked, her usual dreamy smile stained on her face. “There was some left in the kitchen and I swiped it. I don’t think anyone will mind.”
Accepting the bucket eagerly, Wolftail grinned brightly. “Of course I want some. I was so excited when I smelled the butter that I started shaking!”
There was a gentle knock at the door. “Who-oo i-is i-it?” he stuttered through clenched teeth. In lieu of an answer, the doorknob turned agonizingly slowly, and the door creaked open on rusty hinges. A few moments later, a head appeared. The head had purple hair.
“It’s me,” 39-san said, coating her voice with more sugar than she topped her crème brulees with. “You missed dinner, and I was just wondering how you were feeling.”
Frozen_in_fire shook his head vehemently as she approached the bed. “Not good. I need to do it…but I can’t…not with the way things are…but I feel so bad…I don’t know if I can take it…”
39-san feigned her best sympathetic smile (which was nowhere as good as her enigmatic one), and reached out her hand to the back of his shoulder, as if to comfort him. But instead, a dagger slipped out of her sleeve and into her hand. “Don’t worry,” she assured in a confident tone. The light bulb flickered once again, throwing a shadow on the wall of her upraised hand grasping the dagger. “It will all be over soon…”
...And then there were 14...
|Day Two: For The Love of a Woman|
|After 12 long hours of discussion, the group of mafiaholics still had not come to a conclusion on who the killers could possibly be. Their faces were flushed from arguing, and all the talking had left their throats parched. CubeRoot, who had been silent the entire time, decided to kindly offer them some refreshments. He went to the kitchen and came back with a tray containing a pitcher of lemonade and a stack of cups.
“Aha!” Off-white Cells jumped up from his seat by the fireplace as a memory from a past life came to him. “Lemonade…the ultimate sign of evil! You must be a baddie!”
As several others in the room piped up in agreement, CubeRoot backed away slowly towards the living room window. “Please…” he stammered. Remember a suggestion from 39-san, he pleaded “If you don’t vote for me, I’ll give you brownies!”
39-san’s eyes darted anxiously around the crowd. “Are they Ghirardelli brownies?” she coaxed.
“Sorry babe,” BrandonA replied, taking a swig of his special eggnog. “Brownies aren’t going to cut it this time.”
The group closed in on CubeRoot, forcing him against the glass pane of the window. Suddenly a bright light poured into the room from the window, blinding the group momentarily. It was accompanied by a whirring sound…the blades of a helicopter!
When everyone recovered their sight, GizzlePurl was already gone. Peaking out the open window, they witnessed her running towards the rope ladder hanging down from the helicopter. It was too late to go after her.
“Hello my atomic passion!” cried Alias-slippery-when-wet as he helped GizzlePurl into the carriage of the helicopter. She gave her dearest dreamboat a bright noseless smile and then turned to the group staring out at her from the lodge. With her ruby-red lips, she blew them a kiss to indicate there were no hard feelings and waved farewell.
...And then there were 13...
|Night Three: Talk To Me|
|Silently, a shadowy figure crept down the dark hallway stealthily. She came to a stop in front of a room, on the door of which hung a poster of a white tiger. She tried the door: locked. Reaching down into her tool belt, Sherry Cane pulled out a set of lock-picks (special after Christmas sale: for a limited time only $19.99 at Mafiaholicstools.com!). She carefully listened to the sounds of the mechanisms within the lock as she worked. Almost there…
“Good evening!” a bright cheery voice interrupted her. Startled, Sherry Cane jumped back, but she had the presence of mind (and discipline) to thrust the lock-pick set behind her back. She looked up to see the friendly face of Off-white Cells smiling back at her. “What are you doing up so late at Night?” he inquired ingenuously.
Sherry Cane’s mind raced. “Um…just taking a walk…” she replied slowly, improvising. “I couldn’t sleep…had a Nightmare about being trampled by a Yak…”
Off-white Cells frowned sympathetically. “That’s too bad. Would you like to talk about it?” he asked eagerly.
“Uh, no!” Sherry Cane cried a little too aggressively as she remembered the danger of ‘having a talk’ with the eloquent Off-white Cells. “No, no…” she said in a more temperate tone, catching herself. “Actually, I feel a lot better now. I think I’ll try sleeping again.” Giving him her best impression of a genuine smile, she turned and hastened back towards her room.
Smiling satisfactorily to himself as he watched her go, Off-white Cells turned to Impervious’s door and knocked. The door slid open slightly and Impervious’s sleepy face appeared. He yawned ask he asked “Something the matter?”
Off-white Cells grinned amiably. “I just wanted to have a little talk with you…”
Shivering and hugging the blanket (a new one) tightly to himself, De-Frost tottered into the living room. To his pleasure, he found Itachi sitting in front of the fire, reading a volume of Naruto manga. The light from the blazing fire lit up Itachi’s usually calm eyes, which were now glimmering with excitement.
“Hey, can I borrow that?” De-Frost asked as he watched Itachi turn the last page of the volume. Itachi looked up in surprise to see the interloper (he had been too deeply ensconced in the story), but he recovered quickly. He shrugged and held out his hand with the book towards De-Frost.
De-Frost reached out…and grabbed Itachi’s hand. A minute later, he sighed happily and winked at Itachi, saying “Thanks for letting me borrow it.” The he strolled casually out of the room. Itachi, befuddled, held a blanket in one hand and the manga volume in the other as he watched De-Frost go. Then Itachi shivered.
|Day Three: Promises, Promises|
|The group of Mafiaholics (who, at this point, could barely contain their blood-thirst after not playing Mafia for 3 whole Days!), closed in around Impervious. Warily, Impervious took slow measured steps backwards towards the door.
“You’re not getting away that easily!” someone cried. Impervious smiled knowingly to himself. Suddenly, the lights in the room went out as the timer that he had previously attached to the circuit board activated. When the lights came back on, the door hung open and Impervious was gone.
With a smirk on his face, Impervious ran on the snow away from the lodge. It was a good thing he had been prepared and worn his snow boots that Day…but then again, he was always prepared. He turned his head to glance back at the lights of the lodge in the distance, and muttered to himself, “Noobs…”
Suddenly, he toppled over onto the snow. Pushing himself to his knees, he patted around in the snow to find what he had tripped over. It was a black notebook. When he picked it up with his bare hands, a slew of images flashed through his mind. They were memories from a past life. He saw a blonde girl with pigtails, a morbid looking boy with a major sweet tooth…and finally a tall gangly creature with pale blue-grey skin wearing a tight-fitting black suit with feathers. The creature was saying something…
“So you’ve remembered our promise, huh?” a raspy voice interrupted his cogitations. A shadow lurked over Impervious’s form and he looked up to see the strange creature of his memories hulking over him. The creature leered. “I couldn’t fulfill it last time but this life of yours…I’ll definitely be the one to end it.”
Impervious’s eyes widened. But he maintained his composure as always. The intensity of his eyes betrayed his quick mind at work. “You don’t want to do that,” he argued carefully. “We should work together.” He gave the creature a confident grin. “I promise it will be much more interesting that way.”
The creature stroked his chin thoughtfully. It pursed its lips and its bulging eyes rolled back in its head as if in rumination. Impervious wetted his dry lips. Maybe there was hope after all…
The creature’s eyes snapped back abruptly. “Well…” it mused. “Sounds like an enticing offer…” It gave Impervious a huge toothy grin. Then it shrugged. “…Too bad I already wrote your name down 39 seconds ago.”
Impervious’s eyes popped out as he felt a sharp stab of pain in his chest. He fell to the ground, and his arms and legs flailed around in the snow as his body convulsed. A few seconds later, it lay still, outlined by the form of an angel in the snow.
The strange creature glanced down at the notebook in his hand. On the page was written one word: Dextral.
|Night Four: Hungry Like The Wolf...for Blood|
|The moonlight streamed into the hallway as Sinistral walked along it. His stomach was growling, and a sense of déjà vu came upon him as he passed a particular doorway. The déjà vu got stronger when the door creaked slowly open, revealing a pair of feet in fuzzy penguin slippers. The penguin slippers advanced out into the moonlight, and a face appeared, a face all too familiar to Sinistral.
A few minutes later, Sinistral was holding a new blanket in his hand as he stared, dazed, at the back of De-Frost, who was skipping happily away.
Then she noticed her stomach growling. How she yearned for a nice snack right about now. Maybe some brownies, or…
The buttery-delicious scent of popcorn floated enticingly to her nose. Looking up, she saw Kitty standing in the doorway holding an extra-large bowl. The girl gave Cherry Lane a big guileless grin and held out the bowl in offering. “Popcorn?”
As Mekel hurried the corner, he ran into someone head-first. Rubbing his nose, he looked upon the person with furious eyes. It was Shadow.
“Sorry man,” Shadow exclaimed, holding up his hands in a gesture of capitulation. “It was my fault for not looking where I was going…”
But the bump to the head had sent Mekel over the edge. With rage-empowered strength, he thrust Shadow into the window. It shattered, propelling glass shards anisotropically. Blood trickled down Shadow’s face as he lifted his head painfully to look upon Mekel’s sneering face. A gust of wind blew snow flurries in from the broken window. They danced around Shadow’s body gaily, and then came to land in the pool of his blood which was forming on the ground. There, they slowly melted away along with Shadow’s life.
Sherry Cane did her best to stifle a yawn. She had gone several Nights without sleep, but that was her duty as a member of the elite Mafia force. A rumbling sound brought her back to attention, and hers darted around looking for the source. But then she realized…it was just her stomach.
When she reached the door of her chosen target, Somhairle, the intense anticipation of the kill sharpened her senses and she felt fully awake. She creaked open the door slowly, and then…
A figure jumped out at her from behind the door. With miraculous agility, Sherry Cane twisted out of the way just in time to avoid a punch. She kicked out into the darkness, using the sound of her enemy’s movements and the flow of the air in the room to determine her adversary’s position, the way she had been trained by Shaolin Mafia Monks. Her kick landed with a square thud on her opponent, who doubled over in pain. With alacrity, she jerked out the kodachi blade from her belt and expertly stabbed it into her opponent’s neck. She heard and felt him crumbling to the ground. Flicking on the light, she grinned smugly down at the inanimate body of Somhairle. Sherry Cane picked up an embroidered handkerchief sitting on a shelf and used it to wipe the blood off her kodachi. Then she apathetically released the handkerchief, which floated down and landed on Somhairle’s face. The tips of the sakura-embroidered cloth voraciously soaked up his blood.
|Day Four: Time After Time|
|The group’s verdict was clear: re-dawh had to go. As they encircled him, a frown formed on his face. “Come on guys…” he put on his most innocent wide-eyed look. They didn’t buy it. He sighed. “Well…this just kinda sucks,” he pouted.
Suddenly, the door was flung open. A battery of men in white suits in horn-rimmed glasses swamped into the room. They lined up along the side of the wall and one of them, a particularly tall one, stepped forward and declared to the bewildered Mafiaholics, “We are those who maintain the order of time-space. We have come because one of you has violated the principles of probability.”
The light in the room glinted off the man’s glasses. He lowered his head and glared at re-dawh over them, and accused “You have defied the law of entropy by always being a baddie, Kitty.”
The man made a gesture with his white-gloved hand. His companions gathered around Kitty. The now-even-more-baffled group saw that the white-suited men were carrying objects that resembled flashlights. In unison, the white-suited men flicked these devices on, and rainbow beams of light show onto re-dawh, as if skewering him. He couldn’t move.
The one who appeared to be their leader raised his hand to his jacket pocket, and pressed against it. Suddenly the room was flooded with light. When the light had sufficiently diffused so that the group could see again, the white-suited men and Kitty were gone.
“Aw, shucks,” lamented limeliam. “I guess that means no more popcorn.”
|Night Five: Do It All Night|
|In the living room, the warmth of the fire cast a hazy golden glow throughout. Itachi, reclining in the lazyboy, another issue of Naruto manga in his hand, felt a sudden sensation electrify his body. As a pair of penguin-slippered feet crossed the threshold, he realized that the feeling was…déjà vu.
De-Frost’s face looked angelic in the firelight as he held out a pale hand. Itachi let out a resigned sigh.
The moonlight filtered through the small window in the bathroom as Cherry Lane splashed water on her face. The sound of the wind whistling outside diffused through as she reached up to grab a towel for drying. Suddenly a noise startled her and she peeked out over the towel into the mirror. In the shadows, a pair of yellow cat’s eyes stared back at her menacingly.
Cherry Lane tossed the towel into the sink and ran out into the hallway. As she rushed down the dark corridor, she heard the sound of footsteps behind her. When she increased her speed, so did the footsteps. Beads of sweat formed on her brow and dripped down her newly washed face. She turned her head to glance back at her pursuer, and…
Whir! The moonlight streaming in from the windows silhouetted Cherry Lane’s body falling forward as her head fell backwards, landing a few feet away.
Moments later, 39-san carefully stepped over it as she moved to retrieve the wire she had strung across the path earlier that Night.
|Day Five: You're Unbelievable!|
|Outside, the setting sun painted pinks, purples, and oranges in the blue sky. The white-frosted beauty of the Great Outdoors betrayed no sign of what was going down in the confines of 4 Beau D.N. Lodge.
The now-ravenous-for-blood Mafiaholics closed in on Itachi, who stared back at them with large bulging eyes. There was a chant reverberating around the room: “Lynch, lynch, lynch!” The deep-in-withdrawal Mafiaholics reached towards Itachi with shaky, claw-like fingers.
“Aw…c’mon guys…after all we’ve been through together?” pleaded Itachi. Seeing that his words had no effect, he shrugged and added, “well, at least can I write my own death scene?”
Just then, the room abruptly began to shake. A moment later, the roof was torn up off its hinges. Holding on to a corner of it was a man in a red cape and blue tights with a big ‘S’ written in yellow on his chest.
“So this is where you’ve been hiding, Brainiac” the stranger accosted Itachi. “It was clever of you to disguise yourself as a half-human, half-cat, but now its over for you.”
Itachi backed away and put his hand up to press a button on his chest. A beam of light (originating from the cloaked ship hovering in the sky) captured him and his form began floating upwards. The face of Itachi (secretly 39-san (secretly the Brain Interactive Construct)) contorted into an inhuman shape. His widened mouth sneered at the bewildered Mafiaholics as he declared “Yes, you pesky humans have foiled my plans this time to steal all information about the game known as ‘Mafia’.” Then he turn to his red-caped adversary. “But I will return, Kal-el…and I will be bringing back some colorful presents from your home planet for you and little masked friends.” With these words uttered, the beam of light rapidly retracted into the ship, along with Itachi/39-san/Brainiac.
Sinistral was the first to recover from this unpredictable complication. Then he shook his head slowly, thinking out loud, “I do believe that that was the last of them…all the baddies are gone!”
The rest of the group threw their hands up in the air and cheered. There was a jolly round of congratulations all around and patting each other on the back. Then there was silence.
They all stared at each other, twiddling their thumbs. “So…what do we do now?” asked the Fox with her big wide-eyed and semi-glassy stare.
The stranger in blue tights (who was still holding up the roof) gave them a perfect smile and offered, “Well, I could melt out your van for you with my heat vision…”
Wolftail pursed her lips as she scanned the faces of the Mafiaholics standing around the room. Speaking for them all, she replied, “Thanks…but I think I have a better idea…”
The group was gathered around the oval-shaped dining room table. Prof. Templeton dealt out the cards, explaining “If you get a king, you’re mafia, if you get an ace, you’re the inspector, if you get a jack, you’re the doctor, anything else and you’re a villager…”
Everyone looked pensively at their own cards, then the entire group turned to stare down the table at the stranger in blue tights. Prof. Templeton continued sternly “…and NO X-RAY VISION ALLOWED.”
End of Game Roster Edit
- Itachi - 39-san - Lynched D5
- Cherry Lane - Eye-san - Killed N5 by Mafia
- wolftail - Off-White cells
- The Fox - Psychoartist
- Shadow - Sherry cane - Killed N4 by Mekel
- cubeRoot - Gizzle Purl - Lynched D2
- crazypainter - De-frost
- Einkil - BrandonA
- Prof. Templeton - Hwad
- dawh - Anti-realism - killed N1 by Joe's Teacher
- somhairle - Mekel - Killed N4 by Mafia
- limeliam - Vvoon
- o'mally - Kitty - Lynched D4
- Impervious - Dextral - Lynched D3
- frozen_in_fire - Joe's Teacher - Killed N2 by Mafia
- superpsyche - Mr. Prof. T - killed N1 by Mafia
- Sinistral - Frozen Dinner
|List of actions|