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In his tattered dreams, Kesed found himself in that room again.

He’d had that dream enough times, now. There was a nagging sense of familiarity to the room, to what was going on in it. He stepped forward, and in that moment, felt a deep foreboding in the pit of his stomach: instinct telling him that whatever it was, it was going to be ugly. Something he didn’t want to see.

But he found himself walking forward, anyway. Some things you had to see. Call it bad justification, call it a sort of second sense. Some of the investigation team got that way about certain scenes. Kesed’d learned to pay attention to those instincts. 

As he strode forward, the room took shape about him, hardening into sterile clarity from the fuzziness of the dream. It was a containment room, like any other in the Heron Industries research facility. 

And there were two figures in the centre of the room, and shadows bleeding into the rest of it, obscuring everything in a shifting murk. He frowned, trying to make out who they were. He never could, no matter how hard he tried. He couldn’t seem to work out what the shadows were hiding, either. The psych always told him that was important, and he’d tried it all: dream journals, pills, but the dreams never seemed to quite leave him.

If someone was trying to send him a message, Kesed’d just rather they have sent him an email. Cleaner and quicker than this sort of broken telephone.

He woke up to the sound of his phone going off. It tore him from sleep, as surely as if an alarm had gone off. There was still no light through the shutters, not that he could make out. The glowing green numerals on the digital clock beside the bed were too bloody early for any sane man to be awake. The sense of foreboding only deepened. Few reasons Kesed could think of, when it came to why he’d be getting a work call at this bloody hour. He wasn’t on duty this week, and was off-site, but everyone knew that even when you were on investigation, even when you were off-duty, you were still on tap for incident management if the incident commander saw fit.

Kesed reached out for his phone, blearily. “Arnkell,” he growled.

“Kesed.” He recognised the voice instantly, and his concern levels only spiked drastically. This wasn’t one of the on-site teams, or the duty officer. She did other work for Heron Industries, some of which Kesed only suspected and had no way of confirming, and expected he’d be ruthlessly terminated if he ever knew the full extent of her activities. “There’s been a containment breach at the facility and the entire facility has been placed under security lockdown. Code Red.”

“Sandhya. What’s happened to the on-site teams?”

“Lost all contact,” Sandhya replied, briskly. “One of them managed to trigger the lockdown, so we know there has been a containment breach but the site itself is secure.”

“Comms?”

“None preceding the lockdown.”

Which made things worse, Kesed thought. His mind had cleared enough for him to work that out. The situation was ugly as all hell, and he couldn’t for the life of him make sense of why there had been no word from the security teams on-site even before the lockdown had been triggered.

“Assets?”

“Red Team went in to secure the installation,” Sandhya said. “No word from them, but there was a distress signal from Red Lead’s emergency beacon.”

Kesed pinched the bridge of his nose and thought. Wondered if it was worth being yanked out from the dream, thrown into a situation like this. Red Team was solid, which meant that whatever the hell had gone wrong at the facility, it had gone terribly, terribly wrong indeed. “What do you need from me?”

Sandhya’s primary work in Heron Industries was asset management, which meant that in any reasonable world, Kesed Arnkell, security officer, black sheep, and overall failure should not be answering to her. In any reasonable world, Kesed should’ve been receiving a call from the duty officer, or the team leader reactivating all possible resources to manage this incident. But this was not in fact a reasonable world, and Sandhya was his handler.

What tangled webs we weave, Kesed thought. So many people watching so many people. That was how Heron Industries worked: trust through accountability. Everything you did was watched.

“I’m brokering the assistance of deniable assets,” Sandhya said. “You’re Blue Lead. Use them to secure the facility and lift the lockdown. Until the lockdown is lifted, nothing leaves the installation, not even comms. Report on the situation, and ascertain the status of Red Team if you can. Incident report to come afterwards.”

“In your assessment, that is necessary?” Kesed asked.

“Yes,” Sandhya replied, without hesitation. He’d never known her to hesitate. There was ice water in her veins. “And Kesed—one of the researchers was off-site at the time. Use all possible discretion to ensure he’s clean, but you’ll need his access.”

Because they didn’t know what they didn’t know, Kesed thought. And because part of him, the wary, suspicious part of him, had been unable to rule out an inside job. The circumstances: the speed at which the installation had been placed under lockdown without any comms from the on-site security teams—a simple answer to all of these was that the compromise was internal. And that meant the off-site researcher was a potential connection.

Did he know too much?

Kesed didn’t know. Use all possible discretion, Sandhya had said. Researchers were the most valuable asset Heron Industries had, which meant that she wanted him alive and functional, no matter what.

“Understood.”

Instinct made him ask the question. Kesed would later wonder if it would have changed anything, if he regretted asking it, after all. “Who is the researcher? Do I know him?”

He caught the very slight pause on the other end before Sandhya said, “Whyren Halcyon.”

Fierfek, Kesed thought. Hard not for the name to bring that reflexive flash of bitterness and pain; the memory of better days.

What had happened?

“Do your job, Kesed,” Sandhya said, crisply. “I have mine.”

“Roger that.”

It was tempting to sit on his bed, in the dim not-light, even after the call had ended, staring into the darkness. Perhaps it was the fact that the dream still haunted him. Sometimes, he had dreams in which he was dying, although he never seemed to be able to see his killer. The shadowed room terrified him more.

Whyren Halcyon. It had been at least two years. Emails and text messages that had gone unread; pings that vanished, swallowed up by digital space and the yawning chasm that had grown between them. There was that hostile edge to Whyren, that distance that Kesed had never fully understood, though he’d long since given up fighting it.

It happened, Kesed thought. You were friends once; inseparable. Almost like brothers, even. But people changed, and common ground dwindled, grew vanishingly smaller, and then faded altogether. That was the way of the world. You moved on.

And there was work to be done. There always was. He forced himself to his feet with a quiet sigh, and padded over to the kitchen unit. At the very least, he was going to make himself a bloody coffee before he tried to work out what was going on with the latest mess that Sandhya had dumped into his lap.

 

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“This,” Whyren said, with no small amount of distaste, “Is one hell of a mess.”

Sandhya regarded him, eyebrow raised, inviting him to comment. Or, Whyren supposed, to dig himself deeper in the hole. 

Should’ve figured, of course. The one night he signed out of the installation to take a walk, to get a drink away from the stifling weight of the constant supervision and oversight, would be the damned night that they’d had some sort of containment breach or other.

Whyren shivered at the thought. Research teams were tackling a variety of projects in that installation. He was aware of some of them, was one of the lead researchers on a very particular project, for all his sins. Some of which weighed heavily on his soul, even now.

“Why don’t you tell me what you think happened, Whyren?” Sandhya asked. As though they were having a conversation over tea. As though Sandhya and her team had not swooped in on him the moment the facility went into lockdown, to secure him.

He was an asset. They all were, in the eyes of Heron Industries. No one was indispensable. Even if you were one of the lead researchers on Project Replicant.

God, Whyren hoped to hell that the containment breach hadn’t come from Project Replicant. The last thing he needed on his employee files was responsibility for yet another incident.

“I don’t know,” he said, bluntly, meeting Sandhya’s gaze. “I was signed out of the installation, as you know. I wanted to get a walk to clear my head, and get a drink.”

“There are on-site facilities,” Sandhya said. “Why did you feel the need to leave?”

“It can be stifling in there,” Whyren said. Elected for the truth, because anything else would paint him as a potential conspirator if Sandhya was suspecting some sort of insider job. He wouldn’t be surprised, really. Disgruntled employees were wont to try their hands at industrial espionage and sabotage, sometimes as part of a defection. He wondered if that was what was going on here. “I was working on one of the problems that had surfaced with my project, and felt a change of scenery would do me some good.”

Sandhya kept a good poker face. Whyren privately suspected it was because she scared more people into talking that way. He was wise to the trick, though, and kept his mouth shut.

“Let’s say I believe you,” Sandhya said, at last.

“I’m perfectly honest,” Whyren said, which would’ve gotten him an incredulous stare from Kesed, so long ago. The memory was tinged with pain, and a touch of guilt. Conscience, Whyren? Kesed would’ve asked. Even now, Whyren would’ve answered. He wondered why Kesed was coming to mind again, after so long. Perhaps it was the fact he was thinking about the project again, and the problems they were having with memory and identity. It’d been Kesed’s area of expertise, and things had never been the same since he’d left.

“The most important step,” Sandhya continued, “Is to lift the lockdown and to re-secure the installation. The ongoing research in there is of paramount importance to Heron Industries.”

Whyren nodded absently. He knew that. The higher-ups had their eyes on Project Replicant. He’d lost track of the number of progress updates he’d dispatched, even though the project had begun to get bogged down in a number of dead ends. Sometimes it felt like they were breathing down his neck, expecting him to devise solutions to hard problems that just weren’t tractable.

“This means that I need you to re-enter the installation and confirm the status of the research projects. Assess them for damages, or disruption.”

Whyren said, “What.”

Sandhya simply looked at him.

“I’m not security,” Whyren protested. “I’m a researcher.”

“That’s why I need you to conduct this assessment,” Sandhya said, coolly. “You won’t be alone, Whyren. I have an operative and a response team underway, and I’m recruiting additional deniable assets in order to ensure your safety. But they will need access, and the only one who can perform this assessment is you.”

Whyren resisted the urge to slump in his chair. 

Of course it was. Of course it came down to that.

You were an asset. This meant that you were disposable, and if Heron Industries thought that sending you into a breached installation under security lockdown was the best course of action, then the megacorp would do it, ruthlessly.

“Please tell me you’ve got a good team,” he said, resignedly. 

Sandhya smiled. “As far as I’m concerned,” she said, “Kesed has been an exemplary operative, and the team is up to standard.”

“You have got to be bloody joking,” Whyren snapped, with disbelief. “Of all people, you choose to send—to send him into a compromised facility?”

Whyren had always prided himself on being unsentimental, and coldly pragmatic. Or at least, pragmatic enough. But this decision from Sandhya was throwing him, badly. “Why?” he asked, at last. “Why do you have to do this?”

But Sandhya, he thought, was at least every bit as cold as he was, and then just that ounce more ruthless.

“Because he’s who I have on tap,” Sandhya said, returning honesty for honesty. “And because I trust him, and I trust his record. We need that installation re-secured, Whyren. Those projects are too important to lose just like that. And that means using every single resource I have on hand—even Kesed.”

Especially Kesed, she might well have said. 

Whyren sighed and gave in. He was going to hate every second of this, he thought.

 

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The flickering lights from the sign were neon-bright, even in the light rain and the night mist. The Electric Sparrow, it read, with a simple sparrow, wings spread, stenciled in light after the words. There were districts where megacorp representatives never entered; not without a hi-vis security team armed to the teeth. This was not one of them.

The district was run-down, and the woman who leaned against the wall outside the Sparrow wore the sort of mil-spec body armour that might’ve fallen off the back of a truck somewhere. She made no effort to conceal the carbine she carried; a Tekiel M-R7, if Sandhya wasn’t mistaken. She took in the passers-by with a lazy amusement, the sort that said she’d seen the worst the world had to offer, and laughed at it.

Sandhya nodded to her. “Twei,” she said. Twei was a bit of a legend among those who ran the mists. You became a legend the same way mistrunners usually did: worked a couple of jobs for megacorps, did something so extraordinary or so daring or so impossible that it catapulted you to the status of a street goddess, an urban deity.

In Twei’s case, she’d identified every single infiltrator on a mistrunner crew employed by Urbain Enterprises purely by tapping their comms and listening in on their speech patterns.

Sandhya knew these things. It was her job to know things about people: it was what made her so valuable to Heron Industries. 

That, among other things.

“Been a while, Lira,” Twei greeted, casually. No one used real names, not this deep in the districts where some doorways bore bullet holes, not this far below in the shadows, far away from the towering skyscraper offices of the megacorps. This district wasn’t the worst, but it was far from the best; the sort of place you went to to disappear, or to die quietly.

It meant it was the best place to find hardened operatives who knew how to be discreet, who knew how to get things done without asking questions.

Deniable assets. Mercenaries for hire. Mistrunners.

Sometimes, mistrunners were a mixed group. There were those who’d just started to run the mists for the first couple of times. There were some good ones in there, but more often than not, they were cocky and overconfident, and prone to getting themselves killed because they hadn’t worked out where they stood in the very large criminal underworld, much less how to develop reasonable tactics, or assessments of situations. The experienced ones, though. The ones who’d gotten scars, and a few runs under their belt. The reliable ones, the ones with a decent reputation. Those were the ones well worth the boxings paid, and sometimes they achieved better results than full Heron Industries security teams.

You could hire a mistrunner crew if you knew the right forums and boards to visit, but in the end, it always came down to a face-to-face meet. Trust was a rare commodity in the mists, and mistrunners wanted to know who was hiring them just as much as Sandhya wanted to know who she was hiring.

The Electric Sparrow was one such dive: mistrunners hung out there, and the teams she’d identified and put some feelers out to all indicated a preliminary willingness to meet in the Sparrow and hear her out on the specifics of the job. The woman running the Sparrow, a former mistrunner by the name of Gan, was a fixer who’d worked her contacts for Sandhya and had come through many a time. Booking the entire Sparrow on short notice in order to secure it was a bold move, and one that would put her in Gan’s debt, but that was the way things worked in the mists. Her own superiors knew that.

Sandhya stepped out of the mists and into the dim confines of the Electric Sparrow.

She had some mistrunners to meet, and the clock was ticking.

 

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LG85/AN12: Do Kandra Dream of Electric Sparrows?

“And blood-black nothingness began to spin
A system of cells interlinked within
Cells interlinked within cells interlinked
Within one stem. And dreadfully distinct
Against the dark, a tall white fountain played.”

Pale Fire, Vladimir Nabokov

As Scadrial marches on into the neon-washed reaches of the far future, Heron IndustriesTM is one of the megacorporations at the forefront of innovation, driving technological progress through its extensive R&D investments, and combining engineering with Hemalurgic science to usher in a new era of wonders and prosperity.

...For some.

This, however, might be about to change for you.

A representative from Heron IndustriesTM has been sighted lurking around the Electric Sparrow, putting out word that she has a job for a skilled Mistrunner crew. This, you hear, is the score: the big one. Heron IndustriesTM has never been stingy in compensating the mercenaries it hires, and for all the times you’ve run the mists, there might never be such an opportunity again. 

All you need to do is to penetrate a secure installation under lockdown, deal with a containment breach, and the boxings will be wired to your account. The risks are high, but the rewards are greater still.

What could possibly go wrong?

 

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General Rules:

Spoiler

1. This game is a standard Anonymous LG, with 48 hour Day Turns and 24 hour Night Turns. PMs are closed until or unless I tell you otherwise. Rollovers take place at 0100hrs SGT [=GMT+8]. @Elbereth will be my IM for this game. Please add her and the GM to all PMs.

2. Voting is to be done in the thread. There is a minimum threshold of two votes for terminations to take place. Ties will result in no termination taking place. Please colour-code your termination votes as follows: Wyrmhero [red and bold]. Retract your termination votes as follows: Wyrmhero [green and bold].

3. The SynthKandra know who each other are and the roles they have, and will have access to a faction doc to coordinate. In addition, every Night, the SynthKandra may send in a kill order.

4. Write-ups will be minimally informative. At this point, the only thing the write-up will announce accurately are the roles and alignment of the deceased. It will also differentiate between a SynthKandra kill and a Sharpshooter kill. Otherwise, the write-up should not be regarded as an accurate guide to what actually happened. I intend to take full creative liberties and will not be held responsible for any confusion, false assumptions, or damages resulting from treating the write-up like the Holy Word of Wyrm. There may be Shardblade duels.

5. The Order of Actions is as follows:

Quote

Day:

-Infiltrator
-Negotiator/Enforcer
-Termination

Night:

-Communications Specialist
-Hacker, Close-Quarters Specialist
-Combat Medic
-Sharpshooter/Kill/Perfect Mimicry

6. Players only have one action per Turn. This rule applies to any role actions, with the exception of Perfect Mimicry, which is a free action.

7. Please @ me for clarificatory questions in thread, and bold them so I will pick them out. For clarificatory questions in PM and doc, please bold them. While I will do my best to get to all questions in a timely manner, my priority will be to address rule clarifications asked in the stipulated manner. (This also guarantees I won’t derp and miss them.)

8. Players are reminded this is an anon game, and are encouraged to maintain anonymity and to refrain from confirming or denying their identity, or using their personal relationships with others to authenticate themselves. The anonymous game rules are summarised below:

Quote

At the start of the game, you will be issued an anonymous account. There are a number of rules associated with the use of an Anonymous Account. Please follow them carefully. Given the potential for abuse of Anonymous Accounts, any rule breaking using the accounts will be dealt with harshly.

1) Do not change the password of the anonymous account you are issued. The IM and I will have access to all anonymous accounts for the duration of the game.

2) Do not use the anonymous accounts to PM any non-anonymous account, other than the accounts of the GM(s). Please do not use your normal accounts to PM anonymous accounts.

3) Once again, do not tell any other player or individual associated with SE whether you are playing or not playing the Anonymous Game. Player identities will be revealed after the game, not on the death of their avatar. Players are asked (but not required) not to reveal their own identity after their death, until the end of the game, including in the dead/spec doc. Players wishing to spectate rather than play should PM me for a link to the spectator doc. Questions and rules clarifications should be submitted in your sign up PMs, and will be posted by myself in the signups thread.

4) Do not change anything cosmetic about the accounts, including member title, username, signature, and avatar.

9. Due to a conversion element in this game, it is inevitable some players may enter the game playing to get converted. While this is not strictly banned, you are encouraged to think about how your teammates would feel about your decision.

 

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Win Conditions:

Spoiler
  • The Mistrunners are aiming to contain the damage from Project Replicant. They win when they can identify and terminate all the SynthKandra.
     
  • The SynthKandra are trying to survive and avoid termination. They win when they can outnumber the surviving players.

 

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Roles:

Spoiler

Field Operative: You provide the brute force (or brute intelligence, whichever is required) for the job. While you may not provide a specific strength, your versatility allows you to contribute particularly well to missions.

SynthKandra*: The final, crowning success of Project Replicant, combining both engineering and Hemalurgic science, SynthKandra were created to emulate Harmony’s own kandra, becoming the perfect industrial spies. They have access to a faction kill.

  • Perfect Mimicry: Similar to the kandra they imitate, SynthKandra have the ability to devour the bones of their victims. This enables them to assume the form of those they have killed. X times in a game, each SynthKandra may send in a Mimicry order. This enables them to replace a freshly-killed player by taking over their anonymous account. Doing so will abandon their previous body, and this will be announced and reflected in the write-up, with that player being revealed having been killed. The kill must succeed for Perfect Mimicry to work, but does not need to be the faction kill. [N.B. X will be defined based on player count and balance considerations.]

  • Players affected by Perfect Mimicry become Taken. Their win condition changes to that of the SynthKandra, and they get a private doc with the SynthKandra who has taken over their body. They do not get access to the SynthKandra doc, and pass on to the dead doc the moment the SynthKandra takes another player’s body.

  • See clarifications for how the SynthKandra role works; it interacts differently with rolescans, and they may start with another base role.

Communications Specialist: You are the communications expert on a Mistrunner crew, allowing the team to communicate through secured comm channels while out in the field. As long as one Communications Specialist lives, players may send PMs to each other.

  • Emergency Broadcast: Every Night Turn, you may send in a message to the GM to be posted in the write-up.

Hacker: A master of sniffing out information from the Cognitive Matrix, the computer systems at the secure Heron IndustriesTM installation are your plaything. Technically, you’re supposed to leave most of the systems alone, but since when have you cared about the rules of megacorps anyway?

  • All Your (Data)Base Are Belong To Me: Every Night, the Hacker may invade the Cognitive Matrix, raiding databases in search of a player’s specialisation [=role.]

Close-Quarters Specialist: You specialise in fighting in close-quarters combat with opposing security forces. 

  • Shock Probe: Armed with the proprietary Heron IndustriesTM Shock Knife (developed after the Rosharan Pain Knife) and shock darts, you are capable of stunning a player. While non-lethal, the electric shock is specifically calibrated to disrupt the neuro-muscular systems of a SynthKandra, briefly revealing their true identity to you. Every Night, you may target a player, discovering their alignment.

Combat Medic: You have an extensive knowledge of medicine, first aid, and extraction under opposing fire, and combined with some of the latest megacorp advancements that...fell off a back of a truck, you are well-equipped to treat injuries that your crew members may acquire while operating in the field.

  • As Good As New: Every Night, you may target yourself or another player, saving them from death [=one kill.] You cannot target the same player twice in a row.

Sharpshooter: With your fast reflexes and keen eyes, you are used to taking up a supporting position in order to remove persistent enemy targets that your crew is going up against.

  • One Shot, One Kill: Every Night, the Sharpshooter may target another player for death, taking them out.

Negotiator: Charismatic and well-connected, a crew’s Negotiator plays an important role in soliciting jobs, and...encouraging others to change their minds. Your methods of persuasion are tested and they work, even on the recalcitrant.

  • Hello, There!: Every Day, you may target another player and...persuade them to see things your way. That player’s vote will change to be on another player of your choice. This sacrifices your own vote. This change will be reflected in the number of votes in the writeup, but the player will still appear to have voted for their original choice.

Enforcer: A crew’s Enforcer is a blunt solution to more elegant problems. Sometimes, you don’t need to overthink things. Armed with a number of coercive methods, the Enforcer is able to break opposition, allowing a Mistrunner crew access to secrets and places they wouldn’t otherwise.

  • Aggressive Negotiations: Every Day, you may target another player and persuade them to stay out of it. This changes their vote to a no vote. This change will be reflected in the number of votes in the writeup, but the player will still appear to have voted for their original choice.

Infiltrator: Meticulous and cautious, you lay the groundwork for infiltrations and deep cover assignments. You are a master of disguise, capable of augmenting your deceptions by altering even information available in various data silos across the Cognitive Matrix, as well as fuzzing disruptive communications from others.

  • White Noise: Every Day, you can hide the Alignment and Role of yourself and/or another player during the Cycle. This causes the target(s) to appear as a Field Operative and Mistrunner. White Noise also prevents the target(s)' vote from being hijacked. Unless stated otherwise by the player, you are assumed to be using this ability at Day on yourself.

Weapons Expert: Tough as nails, your cybernetic augmentations give you an edge in combat situations, and your weapons expertise helps you walk out of them alive.

  • Die Another Day: You can survive a single kill or termination, and your survival will be reflected in the write-up. If they are attacked again, you die; finally.

 

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Taken House Rules:

Spoiler
  • Taken should be playing in primarily an advisory role; while Taken can proofread or help the SynthKandra with posts and PMs, the SynthKandra should do most of the writing/legwork. Ultimately, the SynthKandra should not be a conduit for the Taken.
     
  • Taken will be locked out of the anon account when the SynthKandra takes over.
     
  • Taken and SynthKandra should be clearly demarcated at all times within their private doc with distinct colours.
     
  • SynthKandra are not permitted to copy and paste between their Taken doc and the Elim doc.
     
  • SynthKandra are, however, allowed to copy and paste freely between their PMs, the thread, and the Taken doc.

 

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This is an anonymous game. Please do not post in this thread. Please sign up via PMing me on the Shard, or DMing me via Discord. If your sign-up has been acknowledged, I will tell you so. If not, ping me again in two working days for a reminder.

Sign-ups are now open and will close on Monday, 25th April, at 0000hrs SGT [=GMT+8]. The game will begin as smoothly as I can facilitate this, but aim to get everything up and running by 0100hrs

Next post is reserved for player counts and rule clarifications, and will be updated with the player list once the game begins. Please do not ask rule clarification questions publicly either.

p.s. hi guys

i know kas has been wanting 2 run this but he needed a break from the shard & se so im running this 4 him

el says shld be ok

how hard can gming a game be amirite pls have mercy tho ive never gmed before

will be my first game back since ag8 nice 2 see u all again =)

 

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Edited by Devotary of Spontaneity
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Rule Clarifications:

Spoiler
  • SynthKandra will take over the roles of players devoured via Perfect Mimicry, but this will come at the cost of losing any base roles they may have started with.
     
  • Not all Elims may be SynthKandra; similarly, not all SynthKandra may have the same amount of hops. The number of hops will not be told to the Village.
     
  • Since Perfect Mimicry only works on a player dead in that same Turn, the first time Weapons Experts are attacked, they won't be valid targets for Perfect Mimicry.
     
  • While SynthKandra can actually use Perfect Mimicry on any player dead in that Night Turn (i.e. they can occupy the body of players killed by a Sharpshooter kill), this will burn one of their body hop attempts, even if it fails. In general, if the player fails to die, the attempt is still expended. Flavour-wise, you tried to devour them, were repelled (surprise!), and injured in the process.
     
  • CQS-es are able to scan SynthKandra; however, Hackers get the base role, whether vanilla or otherwise. They won't see SynthKandra.
     
  • Each SynthKandra has a separate body hop attempt counter. They cannot share it with their teammates or bestow it upon them.
     
  • SynthKandra who take over a Weapons Expert will not get back the expended extra life.
     
  • Perfect Mimicry is a free action. It does not count to the action limit. So a SynthKandra can submit a kill and a Perfect Mimicry order at the same time. 
     
  • Vote manipulation interactions draw on baseline Tyrian rules, except for the case of Smoked Rioters (cf. a Negotiator using their ability while being affected by White Noise - in this case, the Negotiator's vote will still be lost and it's their own bloody fault, there's no one else to blame.)
     
  • Write-ups will announce alignment and role accordingly: these combinations are possible - Wyrm was terminated! He was a SynthKandra! (i.e. a vanilla); Wyrm was terminated! He was a Negotiator SynthKandra!; Wyrm was terminated! He was a Negotiator working for the SynthKandra!
     
  • You may encrypt messages into your posts to prove that you are still you.
     
  • When a SynthKandra bodyhops, the death will be announced as: <Original Account> was a SynthKandra! Modulations apply as in the previous clarification.
     
  • Apologies for the unclarity in phrasing - White Noise works in the cycle it is activated. This phrasing was not patched from Tyrian rules even though the patch was applied. If you Smoke D1, your smoke applies D1, N1.

Player List:

also pls u shld not be posting in this thread

don't 4get

is anonymous

<3 kel

Edited by <kel>
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mods pls feel free to stop me or re-edit this in if triple-posting bad:

currently have 12 players, with a potential 13th pending clarification

ideally game is designed for 15 minimum

if u have good reason to worry about ur ability to cope, maybe don't, but if u r interested/free & on the fence, pls do consider signing up thanx

@Wyrmhero

edited 2 add: sign-ups r closed pls hang in there while i get ur accounts etc 2 u ty

Edited by <kel>
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Day One: Choose Your Crew

The murmur of conversation fell silent as Sandhya strode into the Electric Sparrow as though she owned the place. This was strictly-speaking false, but since she’d booked the place from Gan, it was true enough for the allotted time slot. 

Gan polished a glass at the bar, and briefly clasped Sandhya’s hand. The movement drew the eye to the one extravagance Gan allowed herself: the tattoo of a sparrow in flight on the underside of her wrist, with ink that shifted and danced in bright electric lines beneath the skin. The other arm—Gan had stories about how she lost it, when she was in the mood. Some of them even seemed like they might be remotely true. Servomotors hummed as she set the glass down.

“Decent crowd,” Sandhya said, though really, she’d hoped for better.

Gan snorted. “You get what you pay for,” she said. “Best crews don’t work cheap. And they’re thin on the ground right now. Too many of them running jobs.”

Sandhya didn’t ask what sort, and Gan would not have answered her, anyway. It didn’t matter what there was between you: a fixer who said too much was a fixer who found fewer clients, and fewer mistrunner crews willing to use her services. And Gan was, if anything, one of the best fixers in this district. 

That was why Sandhya came back, everything else be damned. She liked to think she was practical enough to realise that, and so was Gan. Maybe that was the problem: too much ice in her veins.

There was the tang of alcohol and the heavy scent of cigarette smoke in the air, and Sandhya swallowed her distaste. “Any idea if that’s most of them?”

“Better question is, think more will trickle in if you wait?”

It wasn’t a question. And as far as Sandhya was concerned, some deviation was tolerable. You had to allow mistrunners their eccentricities and proclivities, as long as they were effective. There came a point though, where enough was enough. If there was one thing Sandhya looked poorly on, it was tardiness.

Time was boxings.

Especially so when you were dealing with a problem so critical that it had led to a security lockdown in an entire Heron Industries installation. That really was the problem, when you thought of it. The board was going to have Etam’s head for this, and Sandhya found that she couldn’t quite bring herself to care. Not when she was cleaning up a mess that had happened on his watch.

She strode over to the first booth and sat down, assessing the crew that had gathered there. Six of them, all of them confident enough. One of them looked like a weapons expert. Handy to have on any crew. This runner looked like he’d done a few basic upgrades at a chopshop, and his cyberware was battered but serviceable. That cyberarm though was top of the line, with a few modifications that screamed street work.

“You the Yeden?” One of the mistrunners asked, nursing his drink. A Yeden was the term used for any client wishing to hire a runner crew under conditions of anonymity. Since then, it’d stuck.

Sandhya nodded. “And you’re Ant.” That was the handle he’d gone by, on MistLands BBS. A quick surface profile on the Cognitive Matrix told her that Ant was a small-time runner, but’d done a few runs of note that had gone relatively well. From the chrome he was sporting, she was willing to bet there were more jobs from clients with bigger pockets that she hadn’t picked up on in her quick scan.

“Mmhmm. Well, your boxings are paying us to listen, Yeden. What’s the job?”

“Clean-up,” Sandhya said. “A research facility has entered security lockdown. We suspect either an inside job, or potential complications with a top secret research project. You’ll be working with one of our own response teams.”

Ant grunted. “I don’t work with tourists.”

“That’s not negotiable.”

“Objectives?” asked another of the runners.

“Penetrate security,” Sandhya said, counting them off. “Terminate the lockdown. Secure the facility.” She let that degree of ice creep into her voice. “And if there is any opposition, ice them.”

Ant laughed. “That, I’m good at.”

She believed it.

He looked at the rest of his crew. “Tourist. Don’t like ‘em, never have.”

“The boxings are good, though,” said another of the runners. “What corp’re we running for?”

“Heron Industries.”

The word hung in the air: heavy, forbidding. Finally, one of the runners gave a quick bark of laughter. “We’ll need to think about this.”

“I’m short on time,” Sandhya replied, brusquely. “And willing to pay extra for skill and reliability. Gan set me up with a meeting.”

Ant made a thoughtful sound. “That’s true.”

“We need to confer, Yeden,” the other runner said. “That’s how it works. But we’ll decide fast. Is there more information on the run you can give us?”

Sandhya shook her head. There was that possibility that it had to do with Project Replicant, that Whyren had been suborned, but…no. And that was why she’d set Kesed to watching him, in the first place.

“The facility went into lockdown too fast for us to be able to ascertain the situation.”

“We’ll confer,” the runner said, again.

“Do so quickly,” Sandhya told them, and got up to repeat the same conversation again with the next booth. Mistrunners. Sometimes it was easier to call a Heron Industries response team when you wanted a reliable, fast response. But sometimes, you got better results from mistrunners.

Right now, time was not on their side. And with silence from that first response team, Sandhya thought that throwing mistrunners at the problem was a better solution.

And Kesed.

Even if sometimes, Kesed introduced a whole new set of problems on his own.

 

UpOtHYuHdvVOsng50YJuVAWyAxNvH_-8BgK9trB0evbSkb9sf5EMITrxEmatH-0C7avMI0QxsACrvhmi9T1l0GPimAyJv2oMjeYTLy-fTO7DdEFw2KLVsiEOg0gBLgbLPQ96otgT

 

The expanse of the research installation loomed before him, secured within the chain link fence that ran about it. Loops of concertina wire snarled through the top of the fence to discourage fence-hoppers. Normally, there was the hum of electricity through the fence, but right now, it had gone silent.

“Facility’s drone defenses are in full operation,” Solovey said.

“Show me.”

Kesed felt the pulse of heat as his comm acknowledged the incoming transmission, and then his display shifted to provide an overlay of the compound as seen from overhead—likely one of Solovey’s scout drones. Blinking dots showed the facility’s security drones on the grid.

“Capabilities?”

“I see at least two Farrsolin Ranger models. Likely connected to the security systems, if there’s no rigger jacked into the system operating them.”

Kesed nodded acknowledgement. “Can you do anything about them?”

Solovey scoffed. “Does a bear crap in the woods? Give me a few minutes and I can shut them down.”

There was probably a security override but Kesed didn’t know it. Heron Industries was powerfully insistent on segmentation, which meant drek-all when they were looking at having to penetrate that security lockdown as it were. In theory, Whyren knew the security override code, as one of the senior researchers on a high-priority project, according to Sandhya, but the code could not be broadcast and had to be physically entered into a secured terminal from within the facility.

Kesed grunted. Chicken-and-egg problem. Or bad design, as he liked to call it.  Sometimes, you could make your facility too secure. Not that he’d have said that aloud.

The crew of mistrunners that Sandhya had managed to send his way seemed competent, eager, and skilled enough. Whether that would continue to be true was something Kesed could only determine after they’d worked their way into the facility. Blue Team at least were operatives he’d worked with a couple of times. He knew their capacities and that gave him some measure of confidence.

One by one, he watched the blinking lights on the display grow dim.

“Done,” Solovey said.

“Good work,” Kesed said. He turned to the others. “Time to move out. Drone system’s been shut down so we should have free access to the facility.”

Blue Team looked determined. The runners wore a mix of expressions: some of them looked eager; others looked calmly focused, and a few of them looked bored. Kesed suspected the situation would change soon.

There was a saying about how the best-laid plans tended to go to pieces because the crap hit the fan the moment your plans met the messy nature of reality.

 

lfTKbWJJVZW6K7kC3EzAEMzFrty0Wqh3lyJVeqf020CKKvR49q1CUBBuweOcBT3momibv-sdMiW6JjkOuToNTAH4sutCbLCSEp5MJsT3j1l4TBabirvDnB2gAGiCKgw70kNqg_u5

 

Whyren jogged after the advancing response team, and the mistrunners bristling with weapons. More than anything, he felt out of place. He was the researcher here—senior researcher, mind!—and he was acutely aware of the fact that his place was theorising and managing a complex research project, not attempting to break into a high-security research installation. Said research installation being his place of work only added layers to the clustercrap that was his life.

His neck prickled. He felt Kesed’s eyes on him again, watching him. Assessing him, probably. He bloody hated that. 

The path to the front door of the installation was eerily silent. There was no sign of life, no hum from the security drones, not a single cry or whisper or sound that might indicate the facility was anything more than a lifeless hulk.

His mind ran through the staggering list of people who worked in that installation, and wondered if they were still in there. If they were still alive. He wanted to tear his mind away from that morbid line of thought, and yet he couldn’t quite make himself do that. He kept worrying at it, as though it was a loose tooth. 

The teams stopped at the door to the installation. Almost on reflex, Whyren stepped up to the card reader and scanned his access pass. The reader hummed and chirped but the indicator light remained stubbornly red.

“Security lockdown,” Kesed said. As though Whyren should have known. And perhaps he’d remembered once, but not when there were at least seventy-two emails from security every week briefing him about the latest measures being adopted. “Normal access is curtailed. But there’s an override available to responder teams—”

The card reader chirped again when Kesed scanned his own pass, and then the light blinked green and the seemingly impervious blast doors slid open, retracting back on both sides like the jaws of some large beast.

A blast of cold air hit Whyren in the face. He shivered.

“Now you’re just flexing,” he complained. The words hung in the air between them, and part of him wanted to take it back. The words belonged to a time when everything between them had been so easy. So reflexive.

They had been younger, then. More grey in their hair now. Older. More tired.

Different now.

“Part of the job,” Kesed said. Whyren was happy enough to let him—and the rest of the teams—sweep the entryway first. Dealing with risk wasn’t something he was interested in. That was their job, not his. He hadn’t even signed up for this. Sandhya’d more or less bludgeoned him into it.

She was good at that.

Someone called out, and the teams converged around a sight that Whyren was hoping to hell he’d never see again.

There was signs of a firefight in the area, just past the entryway. In the entryway itself, close enough to the door, within touch of freedom, was a corpse. What was unusual was the translucence of the skin and flesh; as though it had gone gelatinous in consistency, revealing the bones inside and the signature metallic implants they’d worked so hard to develop.

Whyren swallowed, hard.

“SynthKandra,” he said, aloud. The words felt leaden. “Project Replicant. There’s been a containment breach.”

 

UpOtHYuHdvVOsng50YJuVAWyAxNvH_-8BgK9trB0evbSkb9sf5EMITrxEmatH-0C7avMI0QxsACrvhmi9T1l0GPimAyJv2oMjeYTLy-fTO7DdEFw2KLVsiEOg0gBLgbLPQ96otgT

 

The Day has begun! The Turn will end on 27th April, Wednesday, at 0100hrs SGT (GMT +8). PMs are open. Please remember to include both myself and the IM @Elbereth.

Please contact me or Kas (if on Discord) via PM / DM if you have difficulty getting into your anon account. There has been at least one mishap already. Please do not post until I have reserved the second post for rule clarifications. Apologies for the time taken in set-up and write-up quality; I am beginning to learn the horror of anon games, and am also currently sick.

Edited by Elbereth
added lock time
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Rule Clarifications:

Spoiler
  • Unless otherwise specified, interactions in this game (with the exception of the kandra and Smoked Rioting) are treated as they would be in a standard Tyrian game.
     
  • No actions are announced to their targets, with the obvious exception of a successful kill or a protect that actually saves the player from dying.
     
  • Kandra are allowed to side-hop: if Zebra is a Villager, Kandra A can kill and devour Zebra, with Kandra B also sending in an order to take Kandra A's vacated corpse. The result is that Zebra's account and Kandra A's account now remain active/in use. I will not be creating a Taken doc between Kandra A and Kandra B because that's just absurd.
     
  • Perfect Mimicry requires a kill to succeed: the dead player is converted and essentially becomes the wingman of the kandra who has devoured them. See the rules for house rules and guidelines concerning Taken behaviour.
     
  • I regret to announce that group PMs are allowed.
     
  • The Elim win con applies to the entire team, regardless of the team's composition. Taken do not count to the win con.
     
  • Kandra may not hop into a player who has been terminated. We'll assume that whatever they do to the body, there's not enough left for impersonation. Ouch.
     
  • Perfect Mimicry is a free action. A kandra may submit the kill and use Perfect Mimicry at the same time.

Player List:

 

Edited by <kel>
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There are a depressing number of RP characters to be had… though admittedly I too feel unfamiliar with the setting and also might just leave Ladrian’s fate up to kel. And the rest of you.

Currently disliking Scorp for a couple bad reasons: Apparently not checking the player list before voting, seemingly considering not exeing, little things like that. Dunno what to make of their font size changing mid-post but I doubt that means anything.

Weasel

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package replicant;
import java.util.*
import java.io.*
import java.swing.JOptionPane;
public class FirstWords {
    public static void main(String[] args) {
        System.out.println("System operator online.");
        JOptionPane.showMessageDialogue(null, "CONTAINMENT BREACH FOR PROJECT REPLICANT", "ALERT", JOptionPane.ERROR_MESSAGE);
        System.out.println("Please stand by.");
    }
}

 

Hello. In case it wasn't clear, I will be RPing in the form of code that probably doesn't work in practice. Thanks to kel for how to do fonts. 

The taking over bodies mechanic is interesting for many reasons, not the least of which because of how it negates the "why are you alive" argument, weakens alignment scanners, and provides strong incentive to observe tone like the proverbial hawk. The tone argument is less important because of how the Taken can act as an advisor to ensure relative tonal consistency. 

57 minutes ago, Coral Swan said:

Time to seal the breach.

Is this a reference to something? I find myself confused.

55 minutes ago, Amethyst Scorpion said:

do you currently have someone playing you?

This phrasing strikes me as odd. I don't know if that's because the notion of addressing the account itself rather than the player that would be portraying it is strange or because I don't understand the question. Are you asking if Ostrich is online?

10 minutes ago, Chartreuse Penguin said:

seemingly considering not exeing

Saying that it is best to exe someone does not really imply to me that they were considering not doing it as more than a cursory consideration of options. It is very possible to not exe given a vote minimum and lack of deaths on ties, so it should be considered for a brief moment before being discarded.

Hyena, am I hallucinating, or are there some different colors in your text? With the color display on my monitor, it's hard to tell

I would like to take a moment to affirm my anti-poke vote stance since it does very little to actually incentivize activity, especially since pings won't notify someone not logged in and there's a certain lack of recognition granted to the name of the anon account. For instance, I didn't realize Swan was voting for me instead of voting for some other player who happened to be an albatross until mere moments ago.

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9 minutes ago, Magenta Albatross said:

I would like to take a moment to affirm my anti-poke vote stance since it does very little to actually incentivize activity, especially since pings won't notify someone not logged in and there's a certain lack of recognition granted to the name of the anon account. For instance, I didn't realize Swan was voting for me instead of voting for some other player who happened to be an albatross until mere moments ago.

But what if I don't retract my vote? Hmm?

10 minutes ago, Magenta Albatross said:

Is this a reference to something? I find myself confused.

Yeah, per the writeup there has been a containment breach with regards to the SynthKandra. 

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32 minutes ago, Chartreuse Penguin said:

There are a depressing number of RP characters to be had… though admittedly I too feel unfamiliar with the setting and also might just leave Ladrian’s fate up to kel. And the rest of you.

Currently disliking Scorp for a couple bad reasons: Apparently not checking the player list before voting, seemingly considering not exeing, little things like that. Dunno what to make of their font size changing mid-post but I doubt that means anything.

Weasel

I get voting for someone who's posted over not, but I don't get why vote for someone who's null over someone with an elim read. Especially D1, when votes are made up and reasonings don't matter.

EDIT:

14 minutes ago, Magenta Albatross said:

I would like to take a moment to affirm my anti-poke vote stance since it does very little to actually incentivize activity, especially since pings won't notify someone not logged in and there's a certain lack of recognition granted to the name of the anon account. For instance, I didn't realize Swan was voting for me instead of voting for some other player who happened to be an albatross until mere moments ago.

An effective way to speed up the game, poke-voting. It's in the interest of everyone to beat those loot piñatas, and see what falls out. Let us start at the top of the list with Magenta Albatross.

Edited by Amethyst Scorpion
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12 minutes ago, Amethyst Scorpion said:

I get voting for someone who's posted over not, but I don't get why vote for someone who's null over someone with an elim read. Especially D1, when votes are made up and reasonings don't matter.

This opinion sounds depressingly like one that I have heard expressed before. I'll have you know that my vote is very much real and not made up.

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17 minutes ago, Coral Swan said:

But what if I don't retract my vote? Hmm?

Then I will ignore you but tip my imaginary hat to acknowledge a stab rather than a poke. Then I will go to the tailor to fix my beautiful and now slightly torn overcoat. It was stolen via time travel and circumvents the bootstrap paradox by continually being replaced Ship of Theseus style, so no harm done in the long run. 

16 minutes ago, Amethyst Scorpion said:

I get voting for someone who's posted over not, but I don't get why vote for someone who's null over someone with an elim read. Especially D1, when votes are made up and reasonings don't matter.

You say this in response to voting for someone who has not posted rather than has, so the statement feels odd. Also, votes are only made up because of poke votes, my nemeses. Reasonings matter always, or at least, treating things like they matter is important to preserve tonal and logical cues.

16 minutes ago, Amethyst Scorpion said:

An effective way to speed up the game, poke-voting. It's in the interest of everyone to beat those loot piñatas, and see what falls out. Let us start at the top of the list with Magenta Albatross.

As far as I am aware, this vote does not fit the definition of a poke vote. Perhaps we have different definitions for the term. I personally use the definition of "a vote for someone who has not yet posted to incentivize activity that will be removed upon posting / making a contribution". What is yours?

Also, the top of the list would be Penguin, who you have already stated a lack of understanding towards. Your vote seems retaliatory in nature

EDIT I appear to have been ninja'd by a Swan. Congratulations on your newfound graduation from ninja academy. I see you dual majored in "same hat" and "saying what I wanted to say before I said it". 

Edited by Magenta Albatross
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4 minutes ago, Coral Swan said:

This opinion sounds depressingly like one that I have heard expressed before. I'll have you know that my vote is very much real and not made up.

Why not vote me over weasel? When comparing how many 'posts of note' penguin gave each of us, weasel is clearly ahead.  Hmm. An interesting thought experiment.

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I've thought about this.

Embedding encrypted messages, placing other uniquely personalized media in my posts, etc. But of course, going the extra mile to make a possible conversion detectable is not in my best interests since my loyalties inevitably shift in that event. (If I had more time to dedicate to this game, I probably would have done it anyway, if only to make the kandra's life harder than it needs to be.) Instead of working on making oneself conversion-proof, the better course of action here is probably to monitor the thread and look for abnormalities following the death of a kandra. It's possible there are no kandra at all - given how the main mechanic in MR57 failed to go off at all, it won't surprise me to find out the kandra don't exist. Or maybe they won't choose to use the mimicry. 

But enough about the conversion mechanic - shouldn't really be relevant until a kandra flips. But I encourage everyone to post as much as their schedules allow them to - let's not give them an easy conversion target. And I shouldn't have to say this but please do not role claim in PMs/in-thread. They inherit the role of the player they mimic, so we have to practice caution.

I agree with Penguin that Scorp not checking the playerlist is odd - why ping the player and ask if the account is currently active instead of simply checking the playerlist? It's a redundant question - not like the account will respond if they aren't playing. This comes off as feigning nonchalance. Conversely, I also agree with Scorp that Penguin voting for Weasel after expressing suspicion on Scorp is weird. 

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1 minute ago, Coral Swan said:

I've voting on Albatross.

I'm really curious what the vote history was......

6 minutes ago, Amber Vulture said:

I agree with Penguin that Scorp not checking the playerlist is odd - why ping the player and ask if the account is currently active instead of simply checking the playerlist? It's a redundant question - not like the account will respond if they aren't playing. This comes off as feigning nonchalance. Conversely, I also agree with Scorp that Penguin voting for Weasel after expressing suspicion on Scorp is weird. 

"Penguin's thing seemed odd, not enough for me to want to remove them yet, but odd."

Your theory is flawed. There is another that it is more likely to be.

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24 minutes ago, Amethyst Scorpion said:

I get voting for someone who's posted over not, but I don't get why vote for someone who's null over someone with an elim read. Especially D1, when votes are made up and reasonings don't matter.

Weasel hasn’t posted? Not sure what you mean here. My read of you is less elim and more just eh and I typically don’t like to cast a serious vote based off of only one post, especially in a game without meta knowledge.

9 minutes ago, Amethyst Scorpion said:

Why not vote me over weasel? When comparing how many 'posts of note' penguin gave each of us, weasel is clearly ahead.  Hmm. An interesting thought experiment.

Also don’t know what this means. You’re quoting Swan, but I’m the one voting Weasel. I’d attribute that to a name mixup but you mention me as well, and you mention me doing something I never did. How can I give posts of note to Weasel when Weasel hasn’t posted? Together this post doesn’t make any sense.

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4 minutes ago, Amethyst Scorpion said:

I'm really curious what the vote history was......

"Penguin's thing seemed odd, not enough for me to want to remove them yet, but odd."

Your theory is flawed. There is another that it is more likely to be.

Erm.

I don't follow :P. 

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