are you sure you have read this game already? You are making rather pointless statements here.
but keep spouting bullshit farside. I mean, the post above you try to argue that a 1 shot JK can be tested. Even if your arguments held, how is this even relevant? And clearly they don't, you can't confirm a claimed RB or doc by no deaths at night.
Yes I read the game. My point is how do you know it was best for the game to lynch a claimed JK even 1-shot that can be tested. You have no idea this would have happened with a closed set up, so why push a lynch on someone that can save a player if your concerned with the number of players.
Why can't you confirm a no death with a closed set up?
Sarcasm is just a way of saying how stupid you think someone is but in a more polite way.
are you sure you have read this game already? You are making rather pointless statements here.
but keep spouting bullshit farside. I mean, the post above you try to argue that a 1 shot JK can be tested. Even if your arguments held, how is this even relevant? And clearly they don't, you can't confirm a claimed RB or doc by no deaths at night.
Yes I read the game. My point is how do you know it was best for the game to lynch a claimed JK even 1-shot that can be tested. You have no idea this would have happened with a closed set up, so why push a lynch on someone that can save a player if your concerned with the number of players.
Why can't you confirm a no death with a closed set up?
How, exactly, do you test a 1-shot? Scum fake-claims it, "jails" their partner, and then they're clear? Nope. 1-shots in mountainous 7p don't work, which is why you keep bringing up non-mountainous setups with more players, presumably.
are you sure you have read this game already? You are making rather pointless statements here.
but keep spouting bullshit farside. I mean, the post above you try to argue that a 1 shot JK can be tested. Even if your arguments held, how is this even relevant? And clearly they don't, you can't confirm a claimed RB or doc by no deaths at night.
Yes I read the game. My point is how do you know it was best for the game to lynch a claimed JK even 1-shot that can be tested. You have no idea this would have happened with a closed set up, so why push a lynch on someone that can save a player if your concerned with the number of players.
Why can't you confirm a no death with a closed set up?
How, exactly, do you test a 1-shot? Scum fake-claims it, "jails" their partner, and then they're clear? Nope. 1-shots in mountainous 7p don't work, which is why you keep bringing up non-mountainous setups with more players, presumably.
Oh wait.
I don't keep bringing it up. Myko is bringing it up. Arthur asked and you said something about it. Seriously I mentioned it as part of a fucking case and 3 people focus only on that one thing.
Speaking of which:
Myko: any reason you completely ignored my case on Arthur and said nothing about it?
Any reason you ignored my question about why you wanted a hammer without waiting for a claim or show examples of you having a desire to lynch a claimed PR before?
Sarcasm is just a way of saying how stupid you think someone is but in a more polite way.
You know what I'm tired of people not listening and giving me shit for making a case on someone and ignoring every point but one.
I'm tired of useless and the catty shit coming from myko and no longer care for his attitude and people allowing him to ignore my questions repeatedly.
unvote:
vote; hyper
I doubt hyper is scum and don't really give two shits any more about this game.
Sarcasm is just a way of saying how stupid you think someone is but in a more polite way.
"Another not fit to be here? I see. I'm sorry this could not go on any longer, but everyone has spoken. All of you were given a simple task - to win. While not everyone will win this game, there will be victors. I hope my game does not leave you with a bitter taste in your mouth, I only recently just mentioned your luxuries being sand, and it seems that this room is sand as well. It seems as though some had their way this game, while others simply could not tolerate the questioning and suspicion. I guess randomly choosing is not the best way to choose an assembly for my devious little game.
I was looking forward to befriending everyone, sharing what I have. It gets quite lonely in here and my personality is not exactly a magnet. Unfortunatlely, one more must be cast out before everything is all said and done."
"Here's the deal, my little darlings. Two of you will be granted access, the rest of you will not. The game was designed to test your skills and prove that you deserved to be here. Only two of you answered this call. Like the others already ejected from the Lounge, you will now follow suit while I have a nice little soiree with my new guests, and my new friends. You might see us on the streets, and you might remember who we are, but for now, take in these last moments. Remember the red walls, the music, the chandelier, and the music. Remember the faces of those who graced the plush cushions. Remember the ordeals you all went through. I may not have given you refuge inside the Lounge, but hopefully you've forged something better inside yourself.
I'm not going to kill you. That would be barbaric and old fashioned. Instead, I am going to give you a little purple brew. This brew has really changed my life since I accidentally discovered it so many years ago. It was the key and my gateway to a more prosperous life. Now, I am not saying that my life was free from entanglements or is necessarily even pure in its past, but what I am saying is that it has helped me. Hopefully the skills you learned here will allow you to create something with your life just as my little accident gave me all this. I don't even know why I am telling you this since you won't remember it in the morning. But if there is some infinitesimal chance that a neuron retains this memory, that you don't completely lose these thoughts, I wish you luck."
*Martin raised the glass just as the the band forced the guests to drink the shot of the mysterious purple concoction.*
"And for you two... Welcome."
farside22, Catherine Alvey,
Vanilla Townie
, has been endgamed Night 2!
Knight of Cyodonia, Joseph Whitle,
Vanilla Townie
, has been endgamed Night 2!
Empking, Dorian Emers,
You notice a little slip of paper tucked under your drink. It reads:
*
*
A private party sounds horrible. Although your time out can't get much worse than it already is. No one has bothered to visit you table and you have already seen this show with your sister. You see that no one else has gotten up, and decide to endure the final acts of boredom when a woman stands up. You focus your gaze in her direction. Does she have the paper? Is she holding a key? She certainly decided to get up at an odd time. Maybe she has to go to the bathroom. Is anyone sitting at her table? Why is she bringing her belongings? She's leaving. You see her direction twist towards the burgundy door. She's going to the party! You strain your neck to get a better view twisting in your chair while simultaneously pulling your dress down. You think to yourself about your poor decision to wear such a short dress in public. Only vulgar people care about vanity you mumble under your breath.
Someone begins to move in the corner of your eye. A man with a suade coat! Is he coming to my table to talk or is he leaving as well? You notice a piece of paper at his table as well before a waiter obscures your vision. He is going to the party! I have to go now. Maybe they took all the people who have seen this show before. You quickly gather your things and apply a fresh coat of lipstick. You look at your reflection in your glass of wine and push up your hair. You'll need more pins the next time you go out, or to at least not move so much. The man has already begun walking to the door when you decide to almost jog over there. Your feet making a loud noise as your heels hammer the floor. You feel embarassed at the scene you are creating when you finally reach salvation at the door. The man is in your way and you desperately wish to be release from the crowd's imperial stare. You've surely ruined their show with your commotion. You raise your key to the man in the suade and he calmy opens his palm to disclose his own key. He puts the key and enters before you, such a gentleman you think as you shoot him a glare. Finally, you're in the Lounge.
*
*
As you enter the room, a man takes your coat and ushers you to the sitting area. As you sit down, the scent of a cigar from a bandplayer flows into your nostril. A large glass chandelier hangs from the ceiling in the middle of the room casting a soft glow to each corner of the Lounge. A bartender waits resting his body on his hands as he prepares himself mentally for the rush of drinks. The dealer at the Poker table sits with his hands on the table, reading glasses on his head, waiting to deal. The walls of the Lounge are painted red and depict a scene from a garden. Ornate columns line the walls every ten feet, their curvature mesmerizing.
Once everyone has taken a seat, a man enters the room from a door next to the bartender. He is wearing a dark red jacket punctuated by gold buttons and gold cufflinks. His starch white shite underneath is pleated and recently cleaned. His black slacks fall to his feet wherein his shoes shine under the golden chandelier. He must be the host of the Lounge. His dress is unlike any other native to the room.
"Greetings, my guests. I am your host, Martin Pel," he says with audible certainty. "You all must be wondering why I invited you specifically, and really there is no answer. You all were chosen randomly. Your glasses marked before you even stepped foot in the Backroom."
"The Lounge is an exclusive club controlled by secrecy. Only the most sophisticated people know of its existence. It exists as an escape from the outside world, for whatever reason you see fit. But in order to officially gain access to the club and use its amneities, you must first play a little game that I like to call Mafia."
"On the underside of each chair is a little note similar to the one that was under your drink in the Backroom. On this note you will be given your role and any abilities if you have any as well as your goal to winning the game. I must warn you, though. This game is unlike any other you may have played. Losing this game carries dire consequences. I will be moderating this game to make sure none of you try and break my rules or choose not to play. Afterall, we are here to enjoy ourselves. So please, relax and play."
*
Empking wrote:
*
You notice a little slip of paper tucked under your drink. It reads:
*
*
Why did you even agree to come to this place? The show is boring. The drinks taste horrible. The food was mediocre and half the audience is smoking. The music is tinny and everyone is keeping to themselves. You really like Cindy, but if she keeps making you go to these places you don't know if you can handle the relationship anymore. This little note could give you enjoyment. Should you ask Cindy if she wants to come? No, she is talking to all her friends and ignoring you. You might as well sleep through the entire show for all you care. The socialization here is smoke a cigarette, listen to music, watch a show, drink and eat. No dancing, no talking with other tables, no interaction with other humans. What kind of place is the Backroom touting to be? I can see other people have already left and even more are getting up now. Or are they leaving? The woman with the blonde her flew to that door as if her life depended on it.
You watch the woman with the cigarette make her way to the door preceeded by the older man who fumbled with the handle. You should probably head over to the door now. Simultaneously, a man directly across from you leaves his table and stares at you. He has light brown hair and dark eyes. His skin is tan and his stride large. Looking at the man altogether you size him up to be six foot five. He has a green tie on and a belt buckle that curves upward towards his bellybutton. You scratch your face at what to do before quickly saying to Cindy that you have to use the bathroom. You rub your hand across the stubble of your chin and approach the door. The man silently walking with you before opening the door and entering.
*
*
As you enter the room, a man takes your coat and ushers you to the sitting area. As you sit down, the scent of a cigar from a bandplayer flows into your nostril. A large glass chandelier hangs from the ceiling in the middle of the room casting a soft glow to each corner of the Lounge. A bartender waits resting his body on his hands as he prepares himself mentally for the rush of drinks. The dealer at the Poker table sits with his hands on the table, reading glasses on his head, waiting to deal. The walls of the Lounge are painted red and depict a scene from a garden. Ornate columns line the walls every ten feet, their curvature mesmerizing.
Once everyone has taken a seat, a man enters the room from a door next to the bartender. He is wearing a dark red jacket punctuated by gold buttons and gold cufflinks. His starch white shite underneath is pleated and recently cleaned. His black slacks fall to his feet wherein his shoes shine under the golden chandelier. He must be the host of the Lounge. His dress is unlike any other native to the room.
"Greetings, my guests. I am your host, Martin Pel," he says with audible certainty. "You all must be wondering why I invited you specifically, and really there is no answer. You all were chosen randomly. Your glasses marked before you even stepped foot in the Backroom."
"The Lounge is an exclusive club controlled by secrecy. Only the most sophisticated people know of its existence. It exists as an escape from the outside world, for whatever reason you see fit. But in order to officially gain access to the club and use its amneities, you must first play a little game that I like to call Mafia."
"On the underside of each chair is a little note similar to the one that was under your drink in the Backroom. On this note you will be given your role and any abilities if you have any as well as your goal to winning the game. I must warn you, though. This game is unlike any other you may have played. Losing this game carries dire consequences. I will be moderating this game to make sure none of you try and break my rules or choose not to play. Afterall, we are here to enjoy ourselves. So please, relax and play."
*
mykonian wrote:
*
You notice a little slip of paper tucked under your drink. It reads:
*
*
What is this you ask yourself. An invitation only party, and you are specifically invited? Perhaps this is your lucky day. You've only been to this place a thousand times and still have yet to successfully woo a single gal. You adjust yourself in your seat to get a better view of the smoke filled room. Despite being in such good health you have trouble seeing everything, the dim lights combined with the smoke from the cigarettes blurs your vision. You can barely even make out the burgundy door closest to you due to your location in the back of the room. Just as you decide to order another drink a woman stands up and begins to make her way across the room. A beautiful blonde next to you begins to fidget. The woman's hair is in a bun and with each step your minx coat floats slightly in the air. You wonder where she is going until you realize the direction she is headed. She must have been invited to the party as well. By this time the waiter has arrived at your location, and you apologize for the inconvenience, but you leave the table. The blonde is also packing her things, despite her beauty she was surely not invited to the party as well. You both sat so close to each other, how would that not have come up as a conversation? The woman with the bun has already stepped inside just as a waiter blocks your path. You see the blonde is now clearly walking towards the burgundy door and begin to worry if there is a capacity limit. Hastily you squeeze past the waiter and reach the door just as the other woman grabs your shoulder. She has big red lips and golden blonde hair. Her skin is light and her teeth white. She is wearing a red dresse that ends half way between her knee and her hip. You ask her what she is doing here and she asks you the same thing holding up a key. You sneak a glance at the key and realize she is invited to the party as well. Maybe now you'll finally find a girl.
*
*
As you enter the room, a man takes your coat and ushers you to the sitting area. As you sit down, the scent of a cigar from a bandplayer flows into your nostril. A large glass chandelier hangs from the ceiling in the middle of the room casting a soft glow to each corner of the Lounge. A bartender waits resting his body on his hands as he prepares himself mentally for the rush of drinks. The dealer at the Poker table sits with his hands on the table, reading glasses on his head, waiting to deal. The walls of the Lounge are painted red and depict a scene from a garden. Ornate columns line the walls every ten feet, their curvature mesmerizing.
Once everyone has taken a seat, a man enters the room from a door next to the bartender. He is wearing a dark red jacket punctuated by gold buttons and gold cufflinks. His starch white shite underneath is pleated and recently cleaned. His black slacks fall to his feet wherein his shoes shine under the golden chandelier. He must be the host of the Lounge. His dress is unlike any other native to the room.
"Greetings, my guests. I am your host, Martin Pel," he says with audible certainty. "You all must be wondering why I invited you specifically, and really there is no answer. You all were chosen randomly. Your glasses marked before you even stepped foot in the Backroom."
"The Lounge is an exclusive club controlled by secrecy. Only the most sophisticated people know of its existence. It exists as an escape from the outside world, for whatever reason you see fit. But in order to officially gain access to the club and use its amneities, you must first play a little game that I like to call Mafia."
"On the underside of each chair is a little note similar to the one that was under your drink in the Backroom. On this note you will be given your role and any abilities if you have any as well as your goal to winning the game. I must warn you, though. This game is unlike any other you may have played. Losing this game carries dire consequences. I will be moderating this game to make sure none of you try and break my rules or choose not to play. Afterall, we are here to enjoy ourselves. So please, relax and play."
*
Hyperion wrote:
*
You notice a little slip of paper tucked under your drink. It reads:
*
*
You read the note several times over, had several sips of water and you are now turning red from pinching your leg so many times. This was not a dream. Someone, perhaps the manager, has invited you to a party. Maybe your looks, or your style, or you personality? Whatever the reason, you are going to this party. You stand up and adjust your dress, reposition your bun and drape your coat over your shoulders. No one else has gotten up, has the party already started? Is this a sham or a cruel joke? All these questions will be answered once you open that burgundy door and you decide to cross the room in front of everyone. The key seems unusually light and particularly shiny, as if it was made out of a precious metal. Has this mystery host really spared no expense to create what seems like a gold key? You decide bite key to find its authenticity later, when no one is watching you after interrupting their leisure. You just hope you are not late to this party.
*
*
As you enter the room, a man takes your coat and ushers you to the sitting area. As you sit down, the scent of a cigar from a bandplayer flows into your nostril. A large glass chandelier hangs from the ceiling in the middle of the room casting a soft glow to each corner of the Lounge. A bartender waits resting his body on his hands as he prepares himself mentally for the rush of drinks. The dealer at the Poker table sits with his hands on the table, reading glasses on his head, waiting to deal. The walls of the Lounge are painted red and depict a scene from a garden. Ornate columns line the walls every ten feet, their curvature mesmerizing.
Once everyone has taken a seat, a man enters the room from a door next to the bartender. He is wearing a dark red jacket punctuated by gold buttons and gold cufflinks. His starch white shite underneath is pleated and recently cleaned. His black slacks fall to his feet wherein his shoes shine under the golden chandelier. He must be the host of the Lounge. His dress is unlike any other native to the room.
"Greetings, my guests. I am your host, Martin Pel," he says with audible certainty. "You all must be wondering why I invited you specifically, and really there is no answer. You all were chosen randomly. Your glasses marked before you even stepped foot in the Backroom."
"The Lounge is an exclusive club controlled by secrecy. Only the most sophisticated people know of its existence. It exists as an escape from the outside world, for whatever reason you see fit. But in order to officially gain access to the club and use its amneities, you must first play a little game that I like to call Mafia."
"On the underside of each chair is a little note similar to the one that was under your drink in the Backroom. On this note you will be given your role and any abilities if you have any as well as your goal to winning the game. I must warn you, though. This game is unlike any other you may have played. Losing this game carries dire consequences. I will be moderating this game to make sure none of you try and break my rules or choose not to play. Afterall, we are here to enjoy ourselves. So please, relax and play."
*
Knight of Cydonia wrote:
*
You notice a little slip of paper tucked under your drink. It reads:
*
*
You take one last swig of your whiskey before wiping your mouth with your handkerchief. You smooth back your hair and clear your throat with a hearty cough. You haven't been to a social gathering like this in a long time. Then to be invited for a private party on top of that socializing. Things must be changing, or you must be getting old. Maybe both. Parties were meant to bring people closer, to have fun. Not to alienate or create cliques. You realize you hate exclusivity, but you are still drawn to the party like a butterfly to a flower's nectar. You don't know who will be at this party, whether it will be grungy or high class. You get up and wipe your pants of crumbs from your croissant. You put on your coat and securely tuck your favorite handkerchief into the pocket. You notice that a woman has already arrived at the door and you wonder whether she is hosting the party. You see a man and a woman race each other to the door only to quietly bicker as the audience starts to stare. You make your way around the edge of the room so as not to disturb the other guests from their show although secretly you don't want more people to realize they are being excluded. You get to the burgundy door quickly and struggle opening the door your hand missing the slot three times before you successfully insert the key. A satisfying clunk of metal greets you as you twist the key and open the door, warm air rushes into the room behind you as you step into the golden aura.
*
*
As you enter the room, a man takes your coat and ushers you to the sitting area. As you sit down, the scent of a cigar from a bandplayer flows into your nostril. A large glass chandelier hangs from the ceiling in the middle of the room casting a soft glow to each corner of the Lounge. A bartender waits resting his body on his hands as he prepares himself mentally for the rush of drinks. The dealer at the Poker table sits with his hands on the table, reading glasses on his head, waiting to deal. The walls of the Lounge are painted red and depict a scene from a garden. Ornate columns line the walls every ten feet, their curvature mesmerizing.
Once everyone has taken a seat, a man enters the room from a door next to the bartender. He is wearing a dark red jacket punctuated by gold buttons and gold cufflinks. His starch white shite underneath is pleated and recently cleaned. His black slacks fall to his feet wherein his shoes shine under the golden chandelier. He must be the host of the Lounge. His dress is unlike any other native to the room.
"Greetings, my guests. I am your host, Martin Pel," he says with audible certainty. "You all must be wondering why I invited you specifically, and really there is no answer. You all were chosen randomly. Your glasses marked before you even stepped foot in the Backroom."
"The Lounge is an exclusive club controlled by secrecy. Only the most sophisticated people know of its existence. It exists as an escape from the outside world, for whatever reason you see fit. But in order to officially gain access to the club and use its amneities, you must first play a little game that I like to call Mafia."
"On the underside of each chair is a little note similar to the one that was under your drink in the Backroom. On this note you will be given your role and any abilities if you have any as well as your goal to winning the game. I must warn you, though. This game is unlike any other you may have played. Losing this game carries dire consequences. I will be moderating this game to make sure none of you try and break my rules or choose not to play. Afterall, we are here to enjoy ourselves. So please, relax and play."
*
CryMeARiver wrote:
*
You notice a little slip of paper tucked under your drink. It reads:
*
*
One by one you watch other patrons slowly rise out of their seats and move toward the two doors. A woman in a minx coat and her hair in a bun is the first to unlock the door glancing to her side to see if anyone is watching her. Her white gloves polishing the handle as she opens the door. A young man with a suade jacket quickly followed by a blonde with full red lips and sickly sweet perfume enters the room next, holds the door open for the blonde after a brief flash of her key. Another man, older with graying hair and broad shoulders stands up tucking away his handkerchief into his coat pocket. He quickly makes his way to the burgundy door and after struggling with the key, enters the room. A dark haired woman with dark eyes and a teal cigarette holder picks up her purse, briefly inhales deeply igniting the cigarette before exhaling a cloud of smoke from her half open mouth. She kisses the man next to her, says goodbye to everyone at the table squishes the cigarette into a glass ash tray and then picks up her purse to head for the door. She too opens a burgundy door and closes the door behind her. You stand up readying yourself for the awkward stroll across the room. Other guests are beginning to stare and the band members have softened their tunes. A bartender cleans a glass only glancing up to see why the music has suddenly dimmed. He stares at you and another man who just stood up from the table infront of you. He has hazel eyes and a mole on his chin with dark brown stuble growing in on his face. He acknowledges your presence and you quicken your pace. He matches your pace and meets you at the door, both holding up your key and the note you decide to enter the room at the same time.
*
*
As you enter the room, a man takes your coat and ushers you to the sitting area. As you sit down, the scent of a cigar from a bandplayer flows into your nostril. A large glass chandelier hangs from the ceiling in the middle of the room casting a soft glow to each corner of the Lounge. A bartender waits resting his body on his hands as he prepares himself mentally for the rush of drinks. The dealer at the Poker table sits with his hands on the table, reading glasses on his head, waiting to deal. The walls of the Lounge are painted red and depict a scene from a garden. Ornate columns line the walls every ten feet, their curvature mesmerizing.
Once everyone has taken a seat, a man enters the room from a door next to the bartender. He is wearing a dark red jacket punctuated by gold buttons and gold cufflinks. His starch white shite underneath is pleated and recently cleaned. His black slacks fall to his feet wherein his shoes shine under the golden chandelier. He must be the host of the Lounge. His dress is unlike any other native to the room.
"Greetings, my guests. I am your host, Martin Pel," he says with audible certainty. "You all must be wondering why I invited you specifically, and really there is no answer. You all were chosen randomly. Your glasses marked before you even stepped foot in the Backroom."
"The Lounge is an exclusive club controlled by secrecy. Only the most sophisticated people know of its existence. It exists as an escape from the outside world, for whatever reason you see fit. But in order to officially gain access to the club and use its amneities, you must first play a little game that I like to call Mafia."
"On the underside of each chair is a little note similar to the one that was under your drink in the Backroom. On this note you will be given your role and any abilities if you have any as well as your goal to winning the game. I must warn you, though. This game is unlike any other you may have played. Losing this game carries dire consequences. I will be moderating this game to make sure none of you try and break my rules or choose not to play. Afterall, we are here to enjoy ourselves. So please, relax and play."
*
Ser Arthur Dayne wrote:
*
You notice a little slip of paper tucked under your drink. It reads:
*
*
You put your drink down slowly while you digest the information about the party. You slowly turn your head to your view your friends' glasses. None of them have any visible sign of the note. Does John? You quickly turn around and look at John's glass, lifting it up when he asks why are you doing that. You cover yourself by taking a gulp of his wine and some other ungodly alcohol. You can barely restrain the tears that are forming due to the burning sensation in the back of your throat. He mentions that was Wine and Vodka. You nearly slap him for mixing such a disgusting drink but you can't help but cherish his concerned smile when he asks if you need to go to the bathroom. An escape, you thought. You suck on the cigarette one more time before devising an excuse to leave. You have already planned with John that you need to leave early to visit your mother and your father, but you weren't planning on leaving this early. You swing around, finish your drink, and back your gloves into your purse along with an extra cigarette that John has lent you. Secretly, you take his matchbook and push it to the bottom of your purse.
You burn the cigarette down to its end letting the smoke billow out of your mouth, obscuring your vision of the door. You had already noticed several others left for the burgundy door and you didn't want to miss out on any of the exclusivity. You put the teal holder into your purse and say your adieus. You kiss John and tell him you will meet up with him later for dinner, but now you must really be going. You walk with confidence and strength, slightly showing a grin. You cannot wait to see what type of entertainment is inside the room. The show was good, yet you never felt completely enthralled. You put on your gloves as you walk across the room and take the key out of your purse. You slowly twist the knob and open the door to the delightful smell of a lovely cigar.*
*
As you enter the room, a man takes your coat and ushers you to the sitting area. As you sit down, the scent of a cigar from a bandplayer flows into your nostril. A large glass chandelier hangs from the ceiling in the middle of the room casting a soft glow to each corner of the Lounge. A bartender waits resting his body on his hands as he prepares himself mentally for the rush of drinks. The dealer at the Poker table sits with his hands on the table, reading glasses on his head, waiting to deal. The walls of the Lounge are painted red and depict a scene from a garden. Ornate columns line the walls every ten feet, their curvature mesmerizing.
Once everyone has taken a seat, a man enters the room from a door next to the bartender. He is wearing a dark red jacket punctuated by gold buttons and gold cufflinks. His starch white shite underneath is pleated and recently cleaned. His black slacks fall to his feet wherein his shoes shine under the golden chandelier. He must be the host of the Lounge. His dress is unlike any other native to the room.
"Greetings, my guests. I am your host, Martin Pel," he says with audible certainty. "You all must be wondering why I invited you specifically, and really there is no answer. You all were chosen randomly. Your glasses marked before you even stepped foot in the Backroom."
"The Lounge is an exclusive club controlled by secrecy. Only the most sophisticated people know of its existence. It exists as an escape from the outside world, for whatever reason you see fit. But in order to officially gain access to the club and use its amneities, you must first play a little game that I like to call Mafia."
"On the underside of each chair is a little note similar to the one that was under your drink in the Backroom. On this note you will be given your role and any abilities if you have any as well as your goal to winning the game. I must warn you, though. This game is unlike any other you may have played. Losing this game carries dire consequences. I will be moderating this game to make sure none of you try and break my rules or choose not to play. Afterall, we are here to enjoy ourselves. So please, relax and play."
*
Night Actions
Night 1 - Mafia No kill
Thoughts
- Well, this game did not end at all like I expected it to end. First, I was surprised at the number of first time college students, myself included, that would be affected by this game. I am not blaming any of their absences, or their play in particular, but the fact that many players had to go on extended V/LAs because of that really hurt the town. It allowed the scum to push for compromise lynches that really did not have any strong basis for the lynch. With a game this small, any sort of compromise lynch that lands on town is very devastating.
I expected the scum to be hampered by the fact that they couldn't kill who they wanted to kill, but in reality they did not need to kill anyone to achieve this victory which is very surprising and probably an ironic commentary on my setup making skills. I didn't want to give the Mafia Power roles, ever in a game like this and intended it to rely more on skill with the chance for catching a scum if the sole power role was used correctly. However, the town suffered from trying to outguess the mod and ended up losing their only power role.
I don't really know what I could do more that would balance this setup. I definitely felt any unlimited roles would be overpowered against the mafia and I am curious as to why others thought the contrary. I invite criticism and feedback on the setup if any of you want to.
A big thank you to farside22, who despite many difficult situations was able to make time for this game. I truly appreciate the fact that you did this for me. Also, congratulations on being the best scumhunter in the town. Had you had more time, and had your life been less crazy, I am fairly sure that this game would have ended in a town win or at the very least gone to 3p LyLo.
I wanted to counteract the common mountainous problem of killing off the best players in a "race to the bottom" with the restriction on their Nightkill. Llamafluff and Cogito Ergo Sum gave me the inspiration to try their mechanic out. I still don't know how well it fairs in my own experience. Looking at their games, though, it decently did its job.
Well, I have to go right now and I'll leave you guys with the QTs as well as bitterness given the full setup. I really did try to make it balanced guys.
In post 209, Oversoul wrote: A big thank you to farside22, who despite many difficult situations was able to make time for this game. I truly appreciate the fact that you did this for me. Also, congratulations on being the best scumhunter in the town. Had you had more time, and had your life been less crazy, I am fairly sure that this game would have ended in a town win or at the very least gone to 3p LyLo.
Yes, you were really awesome farside!
And a big thanks to Empking and KoC. I don't think we could've done this without you :p
vezokpiraka: If you are playing on EUNE we can duo.
chesskid3: I play on NA because i enjoy my freedom.
being able to kill only 2 of the possible 5 townies (because as scum you are going to make damn sure you get enough posts to avoid getting only one option) isn't as hurtful here as it would be in a larger game. Further, it was no lie that a one shot JK doesn't belong in a 7p. It's way too weak. Getting into this night I kinda expected at least 2 more powerroles to sit in the town. You have to have some overpowered actions to counteract that in 60% of the games town is sitting in a 5p lylo day 2 (which is very hard to win). 7p's are from the start really really scumsided, and a one shot JK is just not up for the job.
Further, even if you don't consider the above, having a 1 shot JK in a game with just two nights, because a full JK would be overpowered is a bit silly. A JK isn't a cop, and it would at most ever make one confirmed townie and be only useful in a limited amount of cases.
Surrender, imagine and of course wear something nice.
This was a bad setup for the town and the scum played on that perfectly. Not much else to say. 1-shots in 7p Mountainous are ridiculous unless literally every townie has them.
Knight of Cydonia wrote:This was a bad setup for the town and the scum played on that perfectly. Not much else to say. 1-shots in 7p Mountainous are ridiculous unless literally every townie has them.
The scum play was terrible. You had no one here to actually play the game but myko pushing a bad lynch. Mod gaming is scummy. Not allowing a player to prove there role when in the past you have allowed a player to prove there role is scummy. Ignoring all those facts and pushing on 1 comment out of a big case is just plain dumb.
That said I was really surprised by the no kill from the mafia. I dont care to read why they did it just surprised. The set up was not good. There is no point to a 1-shot JK if there is no other power roles in the game. When I saw no death the next day I had thought there was a vig and a bp townie or something but really that was it!
Sorry to Oversoul. I can't say I enjoyed myself. This game just proves I have lost a lot of patience with people lately, there is just too much interruptions from home to deal with an argument on why a person refuses to answer questions being town and calling a person who made a case on someone scum because on one point you disagree with, is beyond my understanding or patience any more.
Sarcasm is just a way of saying how stupid you think someone is but in a more polite way.
nobody else pushed, that was mostly it. Town was apathetic, and that suited us fine with the kill rules we got.
Otherwise, theory of the case was sound. You literally can't prove a JK, even less a one shot one. Sure, if there was a tracker or something like that, but otherwise it's just a role which nobody can check.
A one shot JK doesn't belong in this game unless backed up by serious other town power.
beyond that, you make the game a bit hard for yourself, farside. I hate to see you this way, in the end we are here to have fun, but you make it so hard for yourself. I think it's in your character a bit and it's not that you need more patience. You get so easily get bogged down in lenghty arguments that stray more and more. That is exhausting, frustrating, and in the end it doesn't really help. Other players in the game aren't going to read it well enough, they are going to lose interest, and in the end it's a coinflip what they think about either player in it.
As for here, I think you might have focussed on the wrong points. SAD backing me up d1 was exactly it. That was spot on, that was rather out of the ordinary, that gave away a scumteam. Trying to prove that I didn't think a one shot JK was a fakeclaim (and hey, I wasn't going to pass that opportunity, because it does look like a fakeclaim) is making it so difficult for yourself.
And I think you might want to avoid me in games. I don't think you ever had a fun game as town with me in the same game
Surrender, imagine and of course wear something nice.
In post 213, mykonian wrote:being able to kill only 2 of the possible 5 townies (because as scum you are going to make damn sure you get enough posts to avoid getting only one option) isn't as hurtful here as it would be in a larger game. Further, it was no lie that a one shot JK doesn't belong in a 7p. It's way too weak. Getting into this night I kinda expected at least 2 more powerroles to sit in the town. You have to have some overpowered actions to counteract that in 60% of the games town is sitting in a 5p lylo day 2 (which is very hard to win). 7p's are from the start really really scumsided, and a one shot JK is just not up for the job.
Further, even if you don't consider the above, having a 1 shot JK in a game with just two nights, because a full JK would be overpowered is a bit silly. A JK isn't a cop, and it would at most ever make one confirmed townie and be only useful in a limited amount of cases.
My response to this is that I overestimated town's ability to lynch scum. Welp. My thought process was that since scum can't make ideal kills they will have to rely on Dayplay to get them through the game, giving town that extra buffer in a way to preserve good townies.
The general town apathy is really what gave the game to the scum in my opinion more so than any imbalance in terms of roles. Look at if Farside had been in the game from the very start. I am very certain in that iteration it would have played much more like I envisioned since scum would have been forced to leave her in the game.
I am going into theoretical assumptions here, but honestly giving town more power roles in this particular game would most likely have done nothing. The scum were under very little pressure until Farside replaced in and realistically, what kind of power role can you even add into this game?
Investigative roles swing this matchup too much in town's favor. More protective roles could have made it into this setup but even then they have such a high chance of failure. I guess a BP townie would have helped things.
I had a lot different expectations of how days would play out in this game. I expected the JK to create 2 confirmed townies (or at least have the potential to create 2 confirmed townies) in itself and a person it protected the night there was a kill + only 1 member remaining.
I wanted to emphasize day play in this game, but I guess that colored my view into drastically screwing the town and I am sorry for that.
I am not claiming this setup is perfect, far from it. But I don't think it was absolutely horrid.
In post 214, Ser Arthur Dayne wrote:And limiting nightkills to only 2/5 doesn't really do much either. Esp when you can just no kill.
If the mafia buddy up, even just a little subtly, they can pretty much take over town.
This is probably the biggest failing in my reasoning for the balance of the setup.
"I had a lot different expectations of how days would play out in this game. I expected the JK to create 2 confirmed townies (or at least have the potential to create 2 confirmed townies) in itself and a person it protected the night there was a kill + only 1 member remaining."
Think of the odds.
0% chance of 2 confirmed, and less then 40% of even getting one. There simply aren't enough players to claim 2 inno's day three.
Even considering that claiming confirmed players in lylo isn't the most brilliant thing.
You can't expect a MS town to lynch 2 scum while having only one mislynch without some help. You don't give them those odds anywhere. 13p's have 3 mislynches, 3 scum and even those have powerroles. 2 and 2 for 9p and newbies have trouble with that since they counted it, even more so if it was mountainous.
Your gut when it comes to balancing games is off for 7p's.
Surrender, imagine and of course wear something nice.
mykonian wrote:nobody else pushed, that was mostly it. Town was apathetic, and that suited us fine with the kill rules we got.
Otherwise, theory of the case was sound. You literally can't prove a JK, even less a one shot one. Sure, if there was a tracker or something like that, but otherwise it's just a role which nobody can check.
A one shot JK doesn't belong in this game unless backed up by serious other town power.
beyond that, you make the game a bit hard for yourself, farside. I hate to see you this way, in the end we are here to have fun, but you make it so hard for yourself. I think it's in your character a bit and it's not that you need more patience. You get so easily get bogged down in lenghty arguments that stray more and more. That is exhausting, frustrating, and in the end it doesn't really help. Other players in the game aren't going to read it well enough, they are going to lose interest, and in the end it's a coinflip what they think about either player in it.
As for here, I think you might have focussed on the wrong points. SAD backing me up d1 was exactly it. That was spot on, that was rather out of the ordinary, that gave away a scumteam. Trying to prove that I didn't think a one shot JK was a fakeclaim (and hey, I wasn't going to pass that opportunity, because it does look like a fakeclaim) is making it so difficult for yourself.
And I think you might want to avoid me in games. I don't think you ever had a fun game as town with me in the same game
God and this just drives me to drink the most. My case against you was not just about your intent to push on CMAR after the claim but the lazy case you had, you asking for a hammer without a claim and the fact you said next to nothing about Arthur who also asked pointless questions. Your case on hyper was even worse and was based on one fucking comment for pete's sake.
That is sad fucking shit that no one else cared that your case was bad but kept over and over repeating the same argument about 1 point in my case against you. That is fucking crap and what I'm tired of. KOC's comment about ME constantly bringing the point up was the straw that broke the camels back. I looked at that comment and gave up because as you said this town was as useless as a third tit on me. I didn't keep bringing the point up it was discussed by you, Arthur and KOC. WTF am I supposed to ignored it and not defend my views? If I don't I'm scummy for not defending myself and it's just exhausting. No matter what you do a player in the game a player pushes for the wrong reasons. Making a case is not scummy. Making a bad case and pushing that bad case should have been scummy as hell not just to me.
That is what makes me give this up. Well that and RL nutsy household. trying to deal with arguments from people are too much.
Sarcasm is just a way of saying how stupid you think someone is but in a more polite way.
I really did try to make it balanced guys.
