There's gotta be another decent video site SOMEWHERE on the web where we can talk about our vidyo gamz in peace
Or you could c) say "Hey, I notice you're kind of despondent lately, can we talk about it?" and then have a civil, mature conversation about the state of your relationshi- ...Oh wait nvm
I asked if anyone liked the idea of me assessing everyone's performance during the game to help them learn what they did well and what could use work, and the response was generally positive. Anyone who doesn't want to be a part of it need only tell me—or I can call it off if people aren't comfortable with it as a whole. It's not meant to be super-serious or anything.
...
Roles and Night logs are up. Will now begin working on play commentary. If anyone wants to opt-out, now's your last chance to tell me.
Yais (Just imagine the hair is pink)
YUP, THIS ONE. So first off: @Misty & @Jayn are totes the PB and Marceline of KH-V am I right or am I right
...hm
Yeah but she's so very PB in personality
EXCUS. Misty had her. (But she's a good VA so she could do both)
. . . . . . . . . In the dead of night, you hear a loud clang and a vicious scream from down the hall. There is a prolonged sound of struggle, and then... silence. For many agonizing moments, all you hear is the frenzied thump of your heart reverberating through your skull. You swallow hard and edge towards the door, cracking it open and peering out into the hall. Moonlight spills into the hall from an open door a few feet down. Still there is no sound. You step out of your room, alone in the hall, and edge towards the open room. The scent of iron assails your nostrils. Your brain screams at you to turn back, but something compels you. What you find in the room is what you feared the most: A fresh corpse lies twisted and battered on the floor, blood pooling beneath her. Reid has been murdered. She was Delia Crowninshield, niece of the late Miss. She was well incensed by the turn of events, and it was all she could do to keep from grabbing an iron poker from the fireplace and lopping off a few heads; but in the end, all her rage couldn't overcome her attacker. She was aligned with the Town, and had no special abilities. Realization hits you like a tornado, and as if on cue you hear another scream from farther down the hall, this one cut short and supplanted by the drawn-out, rolling thump of a collapsing body. Then... Clomp, clomp, clomp. A pitch-black silhouette glides into the hall, not three yards away from you. At last you heed your brain's warnings, turn tail and sprint down the hall—but as you near the foyer, you notice the door is open and a figure stands in the doorway. The light hits him just enough for you to see him level the pistol on you. August 11th, 1922. Salem, Massachusetts. It's been over a week since the fifth annual Salem Masquerade Ball. Since that night the manor has been locked up tight, and a handful of attendees have not been heard from, presumably locked inside. Rumors abound, but local authorities have made no move to breach the premises. To make matters stranger, on the tenth day, early in the morning, smoke begins to rise over the manor. Just when the citizens of Salem are beginning to wonder if the police even know about the mysterious lockdown, a squad of cop cars is seen cascading down the street, followed by a fire truck and several ambulances. Law enforcement and civil service spill out of the assembled vehicles as a throng of bystanders gather around the manor, eager to see the conclusion of this strange, disquieting incident. A few fire axes and crowbars later, the front doors are broken through, and officers storm the building, only to find the source of the smoke: A massive fire is roaring to life in the foyer. The officers retreat and call in the firefighters. It will be many hours before they can quell the flames, and by then there will only be evidence enough to confirm that a massacre took place here, but not who survived or even who did the deed. Meanwhile, several blocks away, a pair of men toss away tattered overcoats and finally remove their masks. Judge Sunrose and luminous exchange self-satisfied smirks and set off through an alleyway, towards their favorite Italian restaurant. The Mafia has won by overrun. And that's it! Game over! Congratulations to @Jayn, @Jiku Neon, @luminous, and @Judge Sunrose for a spectacular performance! (Unfortunately Beau was denied a posthumous victory for breaking several rules.) Since it's late and I'm tired, I'm just going to PM all the players saying the game is over and open the floor to discussion. Share whatever information you please until tomorrow, when I will update the OP with role information and a log of the Mafia's nightly activity. Comments on the players' performance will follow after that. Just to make sure no one misses this, you may all post now. Feel free to chat about the game!
And Ansem the Wise in everything but KHII
...Well yeah that's a pretty solid argument
HI MOSHI NOTICE ANYTHING... DIFFERENT? ;3
Nah, the only thing that bothers you is when people don't do things the way you like, right?
Used to do it all the time a few years ago Oh how naïve was I
Get what you give
You're first in line
HOP OFF MA DICK I'M NOT HERE TO IMPRESS YOU BESIDES MY NAME'S STILL IN IT
Keep this up and my next name change will be You Can All Suck a Fat Wad
