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Day 7 End
Day 7 votes
Sicily, 1863
Gunshots drowned out by the Syracusan waves still echo along the coast. A made man from a mainland family groans and meets his end in the southernmost ends of Italy. It is the first recorded instance of mafia activity in the world.
*pow pow pow* "You mamma'd your last mia," a made man in a stylised red suit cries out as he fills the corpse with bullet holes. "The boss will be hearin' 'bout this!!" He inspects the corpse and retrieves the brown bag with a big yellow M engraved on it. "Bad manners stealing from his guests."
****
Blood oaths and bullet holes permeate these parts. An organised family has taken to trafficking a drug called "candy" in these parts and has made a killing establishing new markets. Yuppies and yankees alike all over the continents, this massive organisation has spread its tendrils towards financing the harrowing operations of that... that person.
On the surface, he's an amicable fellow. He wears blood red and demands that his personnel do the same. He is known to write stories wherein he challenges his readers to solve puzzles and detect unseen truths. He is a patron of the arts and artists, the Medici-kind that is, and engages in philosophical discussions with law-givers and other mafia councilmen. He is a professor at the local university of Vindo, and, as a socially engaged person, leads the local chapter of the neighbourhood watch, amicably dubbed the "Detective Boys".
Yet, beneath the surface, there is an insatiable sense of bloodlust that cannot be tempered by humility and charisma alone.
****
Sicoro colours the Sicilian sky slightly red. It is the season of plans to unfold. That person... The Red Boss, as he is called, has two guests. A handsome German man in a skintight green jumpsuit and a cute panda bear half his length with discerning red eyes. "Gentlemen! Welcome to my humble abode. Ah, does the bear prefer perhaps, gentlebear? Bamboo will be served, rest assured. Only the finest quality shoots and stems for my ursine guests." His tone rarely betrays his intentions. "You see, I have procured a mansion in a faraway country. I have designs for this space, far more cruel than the blueprints alone would suggest." He chuckles and lights a cigar. "Would you like one too? No? They're here if you change your mind." A single flick of the lighter melts the cap of the presidente like the Vesuvius did Pompeii.
"I need this space outfitted to host a certain event I have in mind. A game of flesh and blood, of wit and rhetoric. I desire a certain ecstasy that can only be tasted in another's final breath. Gentlemen - err, and gentle bear, could you possibly aid me in this endeavour? I require your know-how to set up the details. Inviting guests, preparing the rooms, arranging comfortable lodgings and of course, manifold weapons." The gentleman and gentlebear nod in agreement. Together, the three of them discuss many details. Philosophies of life and death, feng shui of crime scenes and financial trickery required to organise a death game; all manner of topics are discussed.
"Naturally, I will be bringing some of my soldiers with me. An expendable lot, I assure you. Even if I survive, I sincerely doubt they will. Of course, their passing too will contribute to my... for lack of better words, perversions." He chuckles heartily. The way only one with a gazillion dollars in their spending account could.
****
He stands up and gazes over the sea. He then looks over his shoulder in a cool way like those characters in Chinese cartoons do, which makes you wonder how long and flexible their neck are exactly. It seems like the boss is concerned with the final days of the timeline. "I'd rather the police not find out my involvement in the matter. Do you perhaps know of an operative in whose name the mansion could be put? Preferably, this person, too, is eliminated towards the end of the game".
The bear gestures at the servants to bring over a cloaked cage. As it rolls over, it coos. He unveils what he calls a British bird. "Cuckoo. Cuckoo. Cu- Cuppa tea innit? Cuckoo," the bird chortles. "Magnificent, a rare specimen, is it?" Hardly, the bear assures, but it is the target of the ire of a certain French agent who has long held a grudge against this bird. The bear explains that the mansion can be put in the bird's name, after which the French agent can eliminate them. Afterwards, once the police find the remainder of the mansion, they will find the owner dead on the floor. The man in the jumpsuit then explains the French agent will afterwards capitulate to the police and, whilst confused, will be taken away by the authorities.
"How elaborate. I dearly wish the game progresses this way. Now, gents, my personnel has prepared a special meal to celebrate our new partnership. We are still looking to finalise the name of the franchise, but we are thinking of having it feature a big yellow arch reminiscent of a big M. Here, why don't you try this? It is a chicken burger. After the game, perhaps we can make one using the bird you just showed me. Marvellous, isn't it? I see Mr. Bear appreciates it especially. It will taste even better after you've sampled a little blood."
Game End
WINNER 
Vandred || Mafia Accomplice + Professor (Eager Detective Boy) || SURVIVOR
LOSERS WHO DID NOT SURVIVE THEIR STAY AT GRYPAN'S MANSION 
Pigeon || Veteran Detective || Lynched Day 7
Erinyes || Veteran Detective || Lost Day 7
Thank you, everyone, for playing!! Congratulations, Vandred, on beating the 1v8 odds! Town will never win again after this!! Mafia win streak unbroken!! Gry and I will be posting our thoughts and the actions and whatever else soon! We had a great time
But for now... Consider this CASE CLOSED!
Day 7 votes
Sicily, 1863
Gunshots drowned out by the Syracusan waves still echo along the coast. A made man from a mainland family groans and meets his end in the southernmost ends of Italy. It is the first recorded instance of mafia activity in the world.
*pow pow pow* "You mamma'd your last mia," a made man in a stylised red suit cries out as he fills the corpse with bullet holes. "The boss will be hearin' 'bout this!!" He inspects the corpse and retrieves the brown bag with a big yellow M engraved on it. "Bad manners stealing from his guests."
****
Blood oaths and bullet holes permeate these parts. An organised family has taken to trafficking a drug called "candy" in these parts and has made a killing establishing new markets. Yuppies and yankees alike all over the continents, this massive organisation has spread its tendrils towards financing the harrowing operations of that... that person.
On the surface, he's an amicable fellow. He wears blood red and demands that his personnel do the same. He is known to write stories wherein he challenges his readers to solve puzzles and detect unseen truths. He is a patron of the arts and artists, the Medici-kind that is, and engages in philosophical discussions with law-givers and other mafia councilmen. He is a professor at the local university of Vindo, and, as a socially engaged person, leads the local chapter of the neighbourhood watch, amicably dubbed the "Detective Boys".
Yet, beneath the surface, there is an insatiable sense of bloodlust that cannot be tempered by humility and charisma alone.
****
Sicoro colours the Sicilian sky slightly red. It is the season of plans to unfold. That person... The Red Boss, as he is called, has two guests. A handsome German man in a skintight green jumpsuit and a cute panda bear half his length with discerning red eyes. "Gentlemen! Welcome to my humble abode. Ah, does the bear prefer perhaps, gentlebear? Bamboo will be served, rest assured. Only the finest quality shoots and stems for my ursine guests." His tone rarely betrays his intentions. "You see, I have procured a mansion in a faraway country. I have designs for this space, far more cruel than the blueprints alone would suggest." He chuckles and lights a cigar. "Would you like one too? No? They're here if you change your mind." A single flick of the lighter melts the cap of the presidente like the Vesuvius did Pompeii.
"I need this space outfitted to host a certain event I have in mind. A game of flesh and blood, of wit and rhetoric. I desire a certain ecstasy that can only be tasted in another's final breath. Gentlemen - err, and gentle bear, could you possibly aid me in this endeavour? I require your know-how to set up the details. Inviting guests, preparing the rooms, arranging comfortable lodgings and of course, manifold weapons." The gentleman and gentlebear nod in agreement. Together, the three of them discuss many details. Philosophies of life and death, feng shui of crime scenes and financial trickery required to organise a death game; all manner of topics are discussed.
"Naturally, I will be bringing some of my soldiers with me. An expendable lot, I assure you. Even if I survive, I sincerely doubt they will. Of course, their passing too will contribute to my... for lack of better words, perversions." He chuckles heartily. The way only one with a gazillion dollars in their spending account could.
****
He stands up and gazes over the sea. He then looks over his shoulder in a cool way like those characters in Chinese cartoons do, which makes you wonder how long and flexible their neck are exactly. It seems like the boss is concerned with the final days of the timeline. "I'd rather the police not find out my involvement in the matter. Do you perhaps know of an operative in whose name the mansion could be put? Preferably, this person, too, is eliminated towards the end of the game".
The bear gestures at the servants to bring over a cloaked cage. As it rolls over, it coos. He unveils what he calls a British bird. "Cuckoo. Cuckoo. Cu- Cuppa tea innit? Cuckoo," the bird chortles. "Magnificent, a rare specimen, is it?" Hardly, the bear assures, but it is the target of the ire of a certain French agent who has long held a grudge against this bird. The bear explains that the mansion can be put in the bird's name, after which the French agent can eliminate them. Afterwards, once the police find the remainder of the mansion, they will find the owner dead on the floor. The man in the jumpsuit then explains the French agent will afterwards capitulate to the police and, whilst confused, will be taken away by the authorities.
"How elaborate. I dearly wish the game progresses this way. Now, gents, my personnel has prepared a special meal to celebrate our new partnership. We are still looking to finalise the name of the franchise, but we are thinking of having it feature a big yellow arch reminiscent of a big M. Here, why don't you try this? It is a chicken burger. After the game, perhaps we can make one using the bird you just showed me. Marvellous, isn't it? I see Mr. Bear appreciates it especially. It will taste even better after you've sampled a little blood."
Game End
WINNER
Vandred || Mafia Accomplice + Professor (Eager Detective Boy) || SURVIVOR
LOSERS WHO DID NOT SURVIVE THEIR STAY AT GRYPAN'S MANSION
Pigeon || Veteran Detective || Lynched Day 7
Erinyes || Veteran Detective || Lost Day 7
Thank you, everyone, for playing!! Congratulations, Vandred, on beating the 1v8 odds! Town will never win again after this!! Mafia win streak unbroken!! Gry and I will be posting our thoughts and the actions and whatever else soon! We had a great time
But for now... Consider this CASE CLOSED!
Last edited:
No hints from you? Why? What's your opinion about room reveals etc.
but it would probably just become a flirt-off competition.
