I'm not letting this go to no lynch. And I'm not a witch. Whoever thinks we shouldn't consider the option that we could lose this game with this vote is either a witch or not done the math. If somebody shows up to change their vote, I may change my position yet.

Deadline Vote: Vira

 

I didn't exactly want to bail Zeit out again, but circumstances are circumstances and since I'm apparently unable to tell him no, I'm back to close again. Sorry to interfere, ladies, but I'm sure I can be tolerated once more. So, without further ado.

Gila ninja'd me as I was posting this, too, but I edited and stuff, hence the lateness. I'm gonna ignore the fact Gila didn't quite rescind her vote for Schaden - out of pure uncaring hostiness - and just kill Vira. Tada.

Gila: 0 (+1)
Jadedmutt [Deadline Vote]
Lindsey: 0 (+1)
Vira [Deadline Vote]
Vira: 0 (+5)
Schadenfreude [Deadline Vote], Lindsey [Deadline Vote], CheddarTrek [Deadline Vote], Ashaya [Deadline Vote], Gila [Deadline Vote].
Schadenfreude: 0 (+2)
Anya [Deadline Vote], Calz the Gay BFF [Deadline Vote].
Consensus was reached.

~ DAY 3 HAS CONCLUDED ~



Somewhat expected, but still strange, events happen as the day ends at the Slumber Party...​

A consensus was reached. The Slumber Party has chosen to kill Vira through a violent Pillow Fight. Dun dun dun.

/./././.​

As I ventured forward into the room, I wish I had said "No" more emphatically. Maybe shook my head a bunch, waved my hands and swore a little. Pointed a finger, poked that bastard in the chest and said, "Hey, I so don't want to do this! You know The Traveller guy? THESE GIRLS DROVE HIM INSANE. And that guy? He watched Cats. And enjoyed it. Come on."

But no, here I am, because he wheedled me despite the "no"s. Doing a favour for The Host With No Internet Host, and that favour was to supervise the decision making process of a group of slumber partying girls - and a black gay manservant, don't ask - as they chose to kill somebody in a violent pillow fight. Apparently this was how things were done, as slumber parties? Serious fucking business. People had already died. One of the violent deaths drove The Traveller to the mental ward. What would it do to me?

The girls were gathered in the library, in a private box of a room used for study, aptly named Study Room F. The girls were sitting around three tables boxed together so they had eight full seats all within murdering distance, their weapons of choice - pillows, to varying degrees of fluffiness and silk coverage - on the grounds beside them. They were all shooting each other death glares when I approached.

"Made your decision?" I asked pleasantly, lest they turn their pillows on me.

"The time to hesitate is through," said the girl wearing a hippo hood. The infamous Ashaya, I assumed. "No time to wallow in the mire."

Over in the corner stood the black manservant/Gay BFF, Calz, and after acknowledging me, he burst into manly tears.

"He doesn't want to go through this again," said Lindsey.

"Poor insecta..." murmured Gila.

Anya, holding the chain attached to the collar around Calz's neck, snorted. "Yeah, sent the last guy nuts, remember? What was his name again? The Wanderer?"

"No, The Rambler," guessed Gila.

"There is a killer on this road," babbled Ashaya. "His brain is squirming like a toad."

I shot her a look. "Are we sure you guys don't want her to die instead? I mean, just to decrease the overall... annoyingness?"

"If we wanted that, we would get rid of you," said CheddarTrek.

"Well damn, I've been told."

"Make him understand," implored Ashaya. "The world on you depends on life that will never -"

"No, okay, I get it," I said, raising my hands. "Why are we standing around? Who did you girls vote to kill?"

Anya pointed across the table to Scadenfreude, making Calz point as well, while Jadedmutt pointed at Gila, and the rest pointed to Vira, the lazy eyed lazy girl from the laziest country in the world. And yes, I knew this just from looking at her.

"She voted for Lindsey, too," Scadenfreude pointed out, gesturing for the lazy girl. "But yeah, can we kill her now?"

I nodded. "Don't let me stop you. I have a lunch thing planned."

"This is the end, my only friend, the end," Ashaya taunted, standing from her chair - the rest of the Vira murdering contingent followed. "Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill."

"Seven kills? Really?" I murmured to myself, as the other girls took up the chant.

I could only watch in fascination as Vira was murdered in the laziest way possible. It was like she didn't even notice, her eyes glazed over with the not noticing - or opium? We'd never know - right up until she had five pillows stuffed over her mouth at once, and no, I didn't think that was physically possible.

So yeah, she died. Tada.

When it was over, Anya had Calz the Gay BFF drag the body away, and the rest of the girls started discussing the type of clothes they wear to a slumber party, as if the slumber party they were having was less of a slumber party and more of an excuse to kill people with pillows. Which, you know, was entirely possible.

Before I could leave, Ashaya caught my eye, something murderous alight in her own.

"Come on baby," she said. "Light my fire. Let's try to set the night on fire."

I suddenly was aware of the reason for The Traveller's mental breakdown. My thoughts told me to run, and I listened to them. My thoughts also told me to listen to The Doors for some reason, but I'd get to that later. I backed out of the study room slowly, fishing my phone out of my pocket as I did.

"Hey Zeit," I started, as soon as he picked up. "Never again."

And yet despite his reassuring words, I got the feeling I'd be here again.

/./././.​

Vira was clobbered and sent to the Universal Female Unconsciousness as an Angel.

Posting in this thread is prohibited until Day 4.

Players with night actions need to bold their actions when posting in their QT. Failure to use the correct format might result in recording a non-action by me in the player log. And by me, I mean Zeit. Moreover, I will response in your QT to confirm your action. Again, I mean Zeit. Zeit does this work. Not me. I'm just the looks.

Only the following ( 8 ) individuals have permission to post in this thread (After I'm done intruding, of course):

Anya, Ashaya, CheddarTrek, Gila, jadedmutt, Lindsey, Schadenfreude, and Zeitgeist (Host).

Graveyard: 6
Little Knee (MamoSwined), Palindrome (Devoured by Witches), Insectamantidae (Smothered), 1and1is3 (Strung Like A Bon-Bon), LochNess (Strung Like A Bon-Bon, Vira (Smothered).


Night 3 has started.

/./././.

And that's me done. Best of luck, ladies.

 

Before I start, I must say a few words...

Happy birthday, Irene! I wish you all the best. Hopefully, you take any offence to this portrayal. All is meant in jest. Also, Lungs, we are aware of your story. We are gravely aware.

Yes, this was longer than the standard 24 Hours for a Night, but I gave you guys extra time because the holiday season really got in the way for us. I totally understand that parties and relatives can make it hard to access your QTs. It doesn't help that the country I'm currently in also blocks access to QTs for me; I had to use a proxy server, lol.


[Once again, I remind you that flavour text is just flavour text. It doesn't necessarily reflect the game-state. Infer at your own peril]
----


Night 3 has concluded.

More shenanigans awaken the dawn at the Slumber Party....
​

The Beastly Witches have made another move, preparing their fangs for a zesty meal...

/./././.​

The following morning was a chaotic one, or at least Calz thought so. Irene’s birthday had coincided with Christmas, sending the remaining delegates into a flurry of shopping to find the girl a special gift. As with yesterday’s Secret Santa, the girls sat around the room in a circle, holding their gifts and smiling at Irene. Calz clutched his own parcel (in Princess Peach-pink wrapping paper, obviously) and tried to not seem too nervous; Irene had notoriously high standards. She was rather picky when it came to her tastes. Calz heard that once, when Anna tried to give her a book titled “Manipulating Men”, Irene threatened to stick a voodoo penis into the girl’s ungodly areas.

Calz shivered, when Irene looked at her friends in ill-contained glee.

“Now, who has a gift for the Irene?” she asked, rubbing her palms together.

Anya, Calz’s beauteous best-friend, summoned her courage and volunteered. “I do! Here, happy birthday, Irene.”

Delighted, Irene snatched the green box out of Anya’s hand and tore off the wrapping paper, giving the crazed impression of a nymphomaniac during kinky sex. She glanced at the gift’s contents, as her face fell into a scowl. Snarling, she thrust the present into the air.

“Wonder Woman: Issue 4,” said Irene; she read the blurb in a slow but bitter voice. “‘Joanie Lungs, the latest incarnation of Wonder Woman, faces off the vengeful super-villain, Train Girl. Will Wonder Woman be able to save New York from the groper monsters which lurk on the subway?’ So this is my present, Anya. This.”

Anya scratched her head, nervously. “Uh, perhaps it’s too –”

“It’s DC!” shrieked Irene. “I am a Marvel fangirl, you incompetent idiot! Loki, not Robin. Wolverine, not Batman! I SHOULD KILL YOU FOR THIS!”

Throwing the comic book back at Anya, Irene growled at the rest of her friends. She cracked her knuckles. Calz felt faint-headed; his navel-showing shirt was already plastered to his back with fear-induced sweat.

“Who’s next? Well?”

“Me,” said Lindsey, who was wiping her forehead with a handkerchief.

Irene glanced at Lindsey’s blue present; her face lit up like a Christmas tree, the murderous rage only a distant memory.

“Oh, it’s so nice and BIG. Lindsey, thank you! Love and kisses!”

Calz had to admit that Lindsey’s gift was huge: it was twice the size of his paltry shoebox of a present and looked thrice as heavy. Irene, who at this point seemed more meerkat than human, squealed with excitement. She definitely seemed to like Lindsey’s offering. However, that expression of joy left as quickly as it appeared when she opened the box. Feeling antagonistic, Calz wondered if Irene suffered from severe mood-swings.

Twitching, Irene pulled out a long, risqué robe, which was embossed with the insignia of a silver snake on a green background: Slytherin. The frontal areas were low-cut but tasteful enough to support the breasts without showing too much skin. While the skirt stopped at the mid-thigh, the pleats gave an innocent allure of a schoolgirl; Calz made a note to buy himself a copy for the next Halloween Party.

“A Slytherin’s robes,” was Irene’s dangerously terse reply.

Lindsey nodded. “I made it myself, although it’s based off Sesc’s summer-line of Greengrass dresses. You remember Sesc, the German fashion designer?” Lindsey sounded vaguely idolising. “He creates the most beautiful gowns: both politically endeavouring yet ‘naughty schoolgirl’ simultaneously. You’d look like an, an – ”

Lindsey futilely searched for the right word. Quirking a raised eyebrow, Schadenfreude helped out: “Like an Ice Queen?”

“Yes, an Ice Queen. The epitome of perfect!” said Lindsey, before frowning. “Although you might seem a little too perfect to be realistic, maybe...”

Irene had no time for Lindsey’s musings; she slammed her fist on the floor and scrunched the Slytherin dress in her hands.

“You gave me a fucking stripper outfit!” Irene screeched.

Lindsey seemed startled. “My bestie, Sera Tin, thought that it might be too racy, but surely it isn’t that ba –”

“Is that what you think of me? A stripper?” Irene didn’t listen to any of Lindsey’s remarks. “How low is your opinion of me, huh? I’m not a hooker, you foul groin-spawn of a mangy dog.” Irene took a deep breath and yelled: “I SHOULD KILL YOU FOR THIS!”

When Lindsey put her face in her hands, Irene turned once more to the rest of the room. CheddarTrek and Jadedmutt exchanged a look of absolute fear.

“Who’s next?! Well? Who thinks they can impress the Irene?”

Irene imperturbably faced CheddarTrek. Although CheddarTrek had seemed suspiciously anxious since the beginning of the morning, she became the apparition of utter fright when Irene paid her attention; indeed, CheddarTrek’s face had grown so white that Calz feared that the poor woman was peeing herself.

“My gift?” whispered CheddarTrek.

“No, Princess Diana’s tiara,” said Irene sarcastically. “Of course your gift! Hand it over.”

CheddarTrek shuddered, almost buckling at the knees. Calz took pity on the woman; he sighed and stepped forward.

“Hey, Irene, why don’t you open my gift first?” Calz said, sending glances towards him. “I’m sure you’ll like it.”

Irene gazed at the shoebox in Calz’s hands. Instantly, anger dissipated from her face; she squealed.

“Really, you have a gift for me? Oh my God, you care about me.” Irene sounded teary, as she grabbed Calz into a ferocious hug. “Thank you, thank you! This is too much.”

Calz awkwardly patted the sobbing Irene’s back, dimly pondering if the girl needed another psychiatric evaluation. While Irene continued to mutter a series of “thank you”s, CheddarTrek twitched again; Lindsey, who had finally taken her face out of her hands, stared at the ashen-looking woman, muttering something under her breath.

Drying her tears, Irene looked up at Calz. “Oh, look at me, crying like a silly girl. Maybe I’m being a little too emotional these days.”

If that’s a little, then Lungs is only a teensy bit randy, thought Calz mutinously.

“Okay, time for that gift, then,” said Irene.

Smiling, she took the shoebox from Calz’s hands. After peeling the birthday card from the cover, she opened the present. Her reaction was only a little extreme.

“What the fuck is this?” said Irene witheringly, lifting a doll out of the shoebox. The doll had a tall scruff of iodide-purple hair, which topped off a short, stubby body. Beady eyes, like those of an insect, bulged out of an ugly, smiling face. Calz tried to keep a calm demeanour against Irene’s seething anger.

“It’s a troll doll,” explained Calz, in a wavering voice. “You said that when you were younger, you had a penchant for the Bratz and Barbies. I couldn’t find those, so I compromised.”

“It’s a troll! Are you trying to say you think I’m a troll?!” snapped Irene, clenching her fists. “Fuck you, Calz! Fuck all of you!”

She tossed the doll at Calz’s face, before bellowing: “I SHOULD KILL YOU FOR THIS!”

“Now, where have I heard that before? Surely she hadn’t said that more than once.” Schadenfreude mumbled under her breath.

Irene either didn’t notice Schadenfreude’s wry comment or was pretending not to listen. Instead, she stood up and sneered at the rest of the girls, among which were the shuddering CheddarTrek and the muttering Lindsey. Calz himself tried to avoid Irene’s glare, as he swiftly grabbed the doll and pocketed it out of her wrath.

“All you need to listen! This is my birthday, and I deserve the utmost attention.” Irene started a winding speech. “Instead of love, I get a crazy story about some adventures involving a bunch of crackbrained doctors – and gifts which are both offensive and horrifying!”

Suddenly, her anger disappeared, only to be replaced by pure misery. “I thought you guys were my friends! How could you do this to me? Oh, this is terrible…”

Irene began to cry, when Ashaya tentatively piped up. “You’re crying. Wait, does this mean that you’re sad but no longer angry at us?”

Calz winced. Irene shifted into a snarl of anger with the spontaneity of an explosion.

“Ashaya, how dare you assume anything about me?” screamed Irene. “You know nothing about me! I SHOULD KILL YOU FOR THIS!”

Schadenfreude cleared her throat. “Um, guys?”

Everybody wheeled around, turning their gazes at her. This included Irene, whose expression was vacillating again. At the moment, it had switched to ‘Murderous Rage’. Schadenfreude blushed under the scrutiny.

“I don’t mean to intrude on Irene’s birthday celebrations, but Lindsey’s dead,” said Schadenfreude, pointing to her left.

There, Lindsey was sprawled across the floor, surrounded by a deluge of Zelda games and graphic doujinshi involving the blond protagonist, Link. She clutched a Bible, which was oddly bookmarked with $100 bills covered in lipstick. Calz didn’t need to check her pulse to know that Lindsey had kicked the bucket. However, that was not the odd part: next to Lindsey was CheddarTrek, who was twitching but still breathing. Colour was beginning to return to her pale face.

“Whoa, so that’s what mouth-to-mouth feels like,” mumbled ChedddarTrek in awe, staring at Lindsey’s prone body.

Irene burst into tears.

“So much fluff!” she cried. “Too many emotions! Oh, this is why I shouldn’t have come here, I get to all teary-eyed.”

“Irene,” Jadedmutt said, trying to reassure the birthday girl, “it’s not so bad – ”

“What did you just call me?” snapped Irene, changing her expression yet again. “I am not a bad person. How dare you? I SHOULD KILL YOU FOR THIS!”

While Irene screeched a barrage of expletives at Jadedmutt, making threats involving needles and grenades, Gila shuffled towards Schadenfreude, who was sitting by herself. Gila sighed and poured a glass of vodka, handing it to her companion.

“Do you think we should tell her about the birthday banners?” asked Gila.

Schadenfreude sighed. “Nah, it’s not like she’s going to notice them anyway. For a girl who’s famous of perceiving the unperceivable, Irene can be surprisingly oblivious to what’s staring her in the face.”

Calz, who was eavesdropping the girls’ conversation, followed Gila’s gaze, which led him to the wall right behind Irene. He guffawed. On that wall, nearest to Irene, was a birthday banner which originally read ‘Happy Birthday, Irene!’ However, somebody got gotten a red marker and crossed out those words, replacing them with an entirely new message:

“FREE THE WHALES, SAVE THE PRISONERS! BAN THE POT, LEGALISE THE BOMB! IGNORE THE FREE TITS, PAY ATTENTION TO THE LUNGS!”




/./././.​

Last night, a vicious beast wearing a Selena Gomez shirt broke into one of the delegates' abodes. CheddarTrek was nearly eaten out, but she somehow survived! Instead, Lindsey the Saint Mutt joined the Universal Female Unconsciousness as an Angel. The Prancing Protester also PROTESTED.

Posting is permitted in this thread until somebody is killed in a pillow fight or at the latest: 04:00AM EST on 1 January 2012.

Players, especially info-roles, should check their QTs for any updates. Please PM me if there are any problems. I know that it is the holiday season and that recent developments in this thread may have delayed our progress, but please do not forget the minimum posting requirement: 2 post per 24 Hours.

Only the following ( 7 ) individuals have permission to post in this thread (After I'm done intruding, of course):

Anya, Ashaya, CheddarTrek, Gila, jadedmutt, Schadenfreude, and Zeitgeist (Host).

Graveyard: 6
Little Knee (MamoSwined), Palindrome (Devoured by Witches), Insectamantidae (Smothered), 1and1is3 (Strung Like A Bon-Bon), LochNess (Strung Like A Bon-Bon, Vira (Smothered), Lindsey (Dead in a Debauched Pile of Zelda).




Day 4 has started.

 

This is in many ways awesome especially since we still have a shot at winning this. This probably means that we've gotten at least one witch, although I will have to do the math later or wait that somebody else does it. I was pretty sure the Prancing Protestor was dead since we had not seen any protesting yet, but obviously I was wrong. Firsly we now know that Lindsey was in fact innocent, which helps us know that any wagons or votes on her were on a town player. Also CheddarTrek is confirmed town, and I'm pretty sure we need to presume that Anya (whose name is constantly write as Anyway for some reason) is just about confirmed town as well, although I've not counted if it is in any way possible that she is a witch and we all still didn't get eaten. I've got an essay due tomorrow to write, but I'll be back with some actual content later.

Also, I just have to say both Zeit and Matt have written some very awesome text for this game and deserve all and any praise coming to them.

 

First off, this. You guys are brilliant. This cannot be stressed nearly enough.

Secondly, does the protest slogan actually mean anything? Or is it just... Weird jargon and shouldn't have much attention paid to it.

 

Okay, so, Cheddar is innocent. Anya is innocent, I hope.

First off, I fully expected to have been killed last night. I was surprised to see that that was not the case. I think that the witches must want to use me, hoping that I'll gain suspicion on me through having not been killed.

So, for me, half of us are accounted for. That leaves Gila, jadedmutt and Schadenfreude.

I have a feeling that jadedmutt is scum. I read through the thread, and she steadfastly wanted to lynch Lindsey, then defended Vira, who I am hoping was scum.

I'm going to go out on a limb and say that either Gila or Schadenfreude is scum, and I don't think Gila is. This leaves Schadenfreude. However, I'm just not entirely sure.

I do, however, think that jadedmutt is a witch.

So.

Deadline lynch vote: jadedmutt

---------- Post automerged at 10:44 PM ---------- Previous post was at 07:18 AM ----------

Where is everyone?

 

I think the day started kinda late that I'm not sure if people have actually realized it has started. I'm still writing my essay due to today.

 

Well, Zeitgeist had better give us a super long day, because only half of us have posted and it's been ~36 hours-ish. I know Anya is on a camping trip, so she won't be around until after this weekend, I believe, and we really need her extra vote.

So!

I am thinking that this would be the time to start roleclaiming if you have any important information to share.

 

I'm thinking extension due to New Year, camping trip and other similar factors would be super awesome too. I presume we need like 4 votes now with six people or does the Calz vote affect the required votes?

 

I'll post my vote here, since I wont be available for another day or so.

Dead-line lynch vote: Gila

She seems the most suspicious right now.

 

How exactly am I more suspicious than everybody else? Anyway, you do not want to lynch me today, that's all I'm going to say for now.

 

That's ominous. :/

 

It's not supposed to be ominous. I just think I shouldn't give up too much too soon considering I have no clue where today is going and where half the people are and if we are getting an extension or not.

---------- Post automerged at 02:38 ---------- Previous post was at 02:32 ----------

Anyway I've just tiered this for myself.

Town: Anya, CheddarTrek, Gila
Probably town: Ashaya
Possibly not town: jadedmutt, Schadenfreude

In the interest of getting something going, I'm voting for jadedmutt. Not a lot going on in her posts that I could glance at except some Lindsey votes, which she tired to wagon with Vira. Plus Ashaya is already voting for her so easier to get this to go somewhere.

Deadline smother vote: jadedmutt

 

Well, I just got Terraria, Cthulu Saves The World, and Rollercoaster Tycoon 3! (Thank you, Krogan & Lutris) But those aren't multiplayer.

I'm always down for Mario Kart! ;D

So. Unless jadedmutt votes for herself, or Anya switches her vote, we won't be getting a lynch today.

Anya, come back! We need you! I need you!

 

I will consider changing my vote to jadedmutt if someone can convince me that she is scum.

 

Gila implied she was gonna kill me! Well.. not really. But subtext. It was there!

I don't wanna die.

 

I have to say that I am becoming suspicious of Anya. Whereas before, I thought she had to be innocent because SHE HAD TO, now...I keep wondering, what if she is not? I just don't know.

I am going to assume that Zeitgeist is extending the day, as jadedmutt hasn't even replied yet. I am going to go to sleep, wake up, and explain why I think jadedmutt is a witch.

Like I said, if you have any information to share, now is the time to share it, if it can help. Please.