Long Game 110? [Sign Ups]: Termina Abandoned (A Majora's Mask Mafia Adventure)

[Wonko the Sane he/him]

3 hours ago, Wahrheitswächter said:

 

And there was the discussion about how good/bad of an Idea it would be to throw L1, with exes being mandatory, we agreed that throwing L1 isnt much of a viable option and trying to solve L1 would be better than throwing L1 as loosing the easiest Loop seems like a bad Plan and the Intel (Hard Claiming 2-5 Players depending on NK amounts) isnt really worth the risk

Well, I'll still contest that I personally feel the intel is DEFINITELY worth the risk, and that the Village should absolutely throw if it was able... but I also agree that there really isn't a viable way to throw with the rules as they stand, so it's mostly irrelevant.

30 minutes ago, Archer said:

To be fair, it worked better if we could soft-clear the first NK and then the pool is me:clear:3 suspects. Now it's IKYKtroublewhenyouwalkediiiiiiiin

Listen, if you didn't want random mechanical observations blabbed for all to hear with little regard for caution or infosec, you shouldn't have played a game with Wonko the Sane.

I do actually apologize, though, I really hadn't thought of the NK blunder angle.

24 minutes ago, Divergent said:

Agreed on this. I think it'd be best that we play it like a regular game and vote people out based on whether their behaviors are indicative of being elim or not, and I feel that over time, our social reads combined with the mechanical aspect from the end of the loop results would be highly beneficial to us winning (especially that this game is essentially a marathon, and elims might eventually slip up)

That's a fair assessment; I tend to undervalue social reads, as I'm terrible at it. I don't think you and I have played before, but kind of my whole thing is being pretty clever with mechanics, but the most oblivious and manipulable person the game has ever seen on the social front.

 

---

 

2 hours ago, Doc12 said:

Colors, streamers, scents everywhere. Thistle and their shadow first went to the Post Office to drop off some letters before realizing it was annoyingly shut. Frowning, Thistle bid the five rupees for the Postman's hat. They needed their letters to be sent, and it would be nice to have an extra source of income. 

Along the way, they bumped into a flute player who must be one of the performers for later, a bright woman named Cindra. "Hello there!" Thistle beamed, presenting them a warm safflina. "Happy Hero's Carnival!" 

They passed the laundry pools to pick up some clothing. "Hullo Kieran! Happy Hero's Carnival!" For Kieren, a sundelion, to remind him of magic in the world.

They passed crochety old Arenta yelling at some trespassers. "Good afternoon Arenta, happy Hero's Carnival!" Thistle privately considered presenting the woman with their namesake plant, but decided to be generous and gift her a Hyrule Herb instead. "For your aches," they smile. 

And now they are in the plaza, resting under a parasol so that Zymni could pop up. They shared some Goron-spiced sweet corn and cool water with sprigs of safflina. "You know, Zymni, you've never really told me about what flowers grow where you're from. You've said there's no sun, so can there be plants?"

Zymni nibbled on the sweetcorn, enjoying the festival. The question drew her out of her merriment, however, and she reminded herself that she had a mission here, and it wasn't sweetcorn-related.

"Well, there used to be light. Before Zant stole the Sols. And there were plants, but they were different colors from your plants. Kind of a bluish yellow-black, you know? But without the Sols, everything is going wrong now." She paused. "Or I guess everything WILL go wrong, when Zant eventually steals the Sols? I dunno, time travel is weird."

"The point is, you maybe wouldn't call them flowers, but there were pretty, colorful plants, so maybe? I had a cousin, he tended the garden at the Palace of Twilight." She frowned. "I haven't seen him since the Zant took over and I got turned into a monster. I hope he's okay."

Zymni scowled down at her sweetcorn. Something must have gone wrong with the food, because suddenly it didn't taste quite so good.

 

EDIT: For the record, I am fully inventing the lore about the plants. Expect a lot more of that, as there is basically no official lore about the Twilight Realm.

Edited February 21 by Wonko the Sane

[Divergent He/Him]

Gor Elam finally reached the northern gate to Clock Town. He looked up in awe at the massive walls that surrounded the town. From the stories of other Goron that had visited Clock Town before, he had already been aware of it, but still, it was a different experience hearing about it compared to seeing it for himself. 

He turned his sight to the gate. There were a number of guards stationed on both sides of the gate, accommodating the civilians that were seeking entry via the northern gate. There were peddlers, performers, tourists, mercenaries, families, and all sorts of individuals from different walks of life. Everyone seemed to have been eager to take part in the Hero's Carnival.

While he was waiting for the line to move forward, he hurriedly scoured through his backpack to prepare his identification. He easily found it in the same pocket that he had stashed it on. Of course, it would always be there. He didn't leave his village without checking that he had all the necessary materials a neurotic amount of times.

"Identification, please," the guard uttered when he reached the front. He handed him the identification and the guard glossed over it for a few moments before  smiling, "You're good to go. Welcome to Clock Town."

He had heard from others that the guards were strict, so this was a surprise, but a welcome one. Perhaps it was a sign of good omens.

[Wonko the Sane he/him]

31 minutes ago, coco.pudding said:

If someone doesn’t get killed…uh I’m not sure what that tells us. I guess that that’s a possibility in the first place?

This would actually be the most informative outcome. If the elims skip their SK, then it probably means that they're aiming to win this Loop, and thus want as few people dead as possible, to reduce the amount of hard-clears it gives the Village. It would be a huge amount of info about what they're planning in the next couple of cycles.

[Amanuensis he/him]

 

~15 minutes remain the Day to get any last minute activity Rupees / submit Mask bids

 

Edited February 21 by Amanuensis

[Wonko the Sane he/him]

1 minute ago, Amanuensis said:

 

~15 minutes remain the Day to get any last minute activity Rupees / submit Mask bids

 

I've posted some extremely long posts in this cycle; do those maybe count a little extra? If not, does this rules question count as contributing to the game state, and thus count as my tenth post today?

I suppose I should pad it out, just in case. Well, one minor observation I've made is that, unless they're doing VERY badly at the game, the Great Fairy mask is effectively identical to the Fierce Deity Mask for the elims. So while the Village CAN'T buy an "I win" button. the elims actually CAN. So we should probably do anything we can to avoid killing the same elim three times, or else we risk handing Loop 4 to them.

[coco.pudding she/they]

14 minutes ago, Wonko the Sane said:

This would actually be the most informative outcome. If the elims skip their SK, then it probably means that they're aiming to win this Loop, and thus want as few people dead as possible, to reduce the amount of hard-clears it gives the Village. It would be a huge amount of info about what they're planning in the next couple of cycles.

Hm that is a good point.

I guess we are just waiting to see what the elims do here

I don’t love that our only option is to just react to what they do, but we don’t exactly have another choice. Hopefully that’ll change soon.

[Burnt Spaghetti she/her]

1 minute ago, Wonko the Sane said:

I've posted some extremely long posts in this cycle; do those maybe count a little extra? If not, does this rules question count as contributing to the game state, and thus count as my tenth post today?

I suppose I should pad it out, just in case. Well, one minor observation I've made is that, unless they're doing VERY badly at the game, the Great Fairy mask is effectively identical to the Fierce Deity Mask for the elims. So while the Village CAN'T buy an "I win" button. the elims actually CAN. So we should probably do anything we can to avoid killing the same elim three times, or else we risk handing Loop 4 to them.

to be fair though, even if we did kill the same elim 3 times, hopefully we're able to vote them out before they can actually use the money to buy the mask. Even if they sucessfully purchase, if they are executed before they can use it then its not a concern

[Wonko the Sane he/him]

2 minutes ago, Burnt Spaghetti said:

to be fair though, even if we did kill the same elim 3 times, hopefully we're able to vote them out before they can actually use the money to buy the mask. Even if they sucessfully purchase, if they are executed before they can use it then its not a concern

True, but that only works if we can know for certain that the elim IS an elim after killing them three times. Else we risk throwing away our own alignment confirm. That might still be worth it, though. I'm not sure. I usually spend a lot more time thinking before posting, but I'm just trying to get this one in under the buzzer.

Edited February 21 by Wonko the Sane

[Doc12]

Love how Mistfallen is so wary of me getting PMs  

@Wonko the Sane I'm the opposite where solving mechanically doesn't interest me in the least, and I'm more interested in interactions and social reads. 

Also extremely amused that Archer and Wonko are basically handholding the elims through how to make things harder for the village. 

[The Unknown Medallion he/him]

57 minutes ago, Archer said:

To be fair, it worked better if we could soft-clear the first NK and then the pool is me:clear:3 suspects. Now it's IKYKtroublewhenyouwalkediiiiiiiin

If I were evil, I'd NK a teammate tonight just so there's no pressure the rest of the Loop, allowing you to bus aggressively.  

Speaking of, @The Unknown Medallion what's a dead gazelle gambit?

 

how are we supposed to frivolously spend all our money when someone closed the casino 

Hey, a few times is better than nothing. Feel free to share anything that comes to mind. Wonko's perspective has been helpful, even if my brilliant, original idea turned out to be established meta.

Speaking of PMs, the live chat dead doc will be revealing. 

Don't make me do math again. 3 village 1st choices, 3 village 2nd choices, minus one village 1st choice = 5 choices. Versus 4 elim 1st choices, 0 2nd choices. 5v/4e for two of the masks, 6v/0e for two of the masks. Maybe you get lucky with an unpopular mask, but NKing for mask acquisition only improves your odds from 55% to 60%. 

********

Ouae saw a shifty soul saunter slowly from sleazy salesman to shadows, stalking subtly or somethin'. 

"Ssss," they mused. "Steamed Fruit!"

She scribbled swiftly inside the sizable scratch pad her satchel stored. "A regional dish made by steaming near-ripened fruits in the leaves of fragrant plants..."

As opposed to the WGG, with the elim actually dying. Basically just a fun way of saying elims killing an elim

[Amanuensis he/him]

Day 1-A is now over. Please get a snack, a drink, and standby for Night 1-A.

I am aiming for a proper write up tonight so it might take me some extra time.

[Amanuensis he/him]

LG110, Night 1-A: A Terrible Fate, Indeed...

Night 1-A will end on Saturday, February 21st @ 10:00 PM EST.

---

The last customer of the evening was a Goron who had wandered in from the North Gate smelling of snowmelt and celebration, turning every mask over in his great stone hands with the careful reverence of someone who had never held anything so small and fragile in his life. He bought a painted bear with a gap-toothed grin, tucked it under one arm like a clutch purse, and ambled out into the early evening with a rolling contentment that made the bell above the door laugh twice.

The Apprentice watched him go and then turned to find her grandfather already watching her.

"Go," he said.

"I haven't finished the inventory—"

"It will be here in the morning." He settled into his chair behind the counter, the one with the cushion she'd stitched for him two birthdays ago, now flattened to a disc of good intentions. "The inventory is not going anywhere. The show, however—" He tilted his head toward the window, where the orange light of a setting sun was beginning to gild the edges of the Clock Tower's face. Somewhere beyond the glass, a drum struck up, and then another, and then a brass section that had clearly been practicing all afternoon and was now absolutely certain it was ready. "—is going somewhere quite specific at quite a specific time."

She had her green cap on before he finished the sentence.

"Eat something from the vendors," he called after her. "Not the spiced nuts. They'll give you dreams."

"What kind of dreams?" she called back.

"The kind that make you wake up uncertain which one was real." He opened his ledger. "Go. Shoo."

She was almost to the door when she stopped and looked back at him — the white hair, the slow smile, the way he held a pen like he was composing rather than accounting — and felt a small, sudden pang she couldn't quite name. It passed. She chalked it up to the spiced nut warning and pushed out into the evening.

Behind her, the bell laughed. The Happy Mask Salesman listened to it until it stopped, then glanced at the wall where a single hook hung bare above its small handwritten placard. His pen paused over the ledger.

He looked away.

Then, from the direction of the South Gate, came a sharp knock — not at the door but against the frame, the particular rhythm of someone who had been celebrating since noon and was now fairly certain this was the pottery shop. The Salesman sighed, set down his pen, and went to let them in. A man in a paper crown fell through the doorway and looked at the walls with an expression of pure, undiscriminating joy.

"I'll take that one," the man said, pointing vaguely at everything.

"Of course you will," said the Salesman, and helped the drunkard to a chair. "Let's start smaller."

---

The plaza was a living thing.

It breathed in the smells of roasted corn and candied apples and the particular honest sweat of a crowd having a genuinely good time. It exhaled music and laughter and the occasional whoop from someone who had just won something at Honey & Darling's. Banners caught the last of the daylight along East Street and turned it into something ceremonial. The Clock Tower rose above it all with its patient stone face, and beneath it — so small and bright and fizzing with energy that she could have been a firefly that had learned to walk — the Apprentice stepped into the plaza and immediately stopped to breathe it all in.

The Carnival Stage had been erected opposite the Tower, a broad wooden platform draped in moon-silver cloth and lit from below by lanterns in blue and gold. It was already packed five deep on all sides. She wriggled through with the practiced efficiency of someone accustomed to small spaces and stock shelves and came out near the front just as the drum roll settled into something stately and the first actor strode onto the stage.

He was young, playing older — or perhaps he was old playing young; it was hard to tell under the makeup. He wore a green tunic that had seen careful work, a pointed cap, and a little wooden shield painted gold that caught the lanternlight when he turned. The crowd applauded like they were greeting a returning friend.

The Moon was out.

She noticed it the way you notice something that has always been there but suddenly chooses to be noticed: a pale and enormous face gazing down from the darkening sky with an expression of absolute serenity, eyes half-lidded, neither kind nor cruel but simply watching, the way the very old watch the very young at play. The stars were already visible around it, smaller and uncertain. The Moon needed no introduction.

♩ There was a world like any other
With fields and stones and bread
And underneath a rolling sky
A boy who wouldn't stay dead ♩

The lyrics floated out over the crowd on the voice of a woman somewhere stage left, full and clear and pitched to carry. The Apprentice felt them land in her chest like chimes. Around her, people who had heard this song every year for as long as they could remember mouthed the words without thinking.

She was watching the actor-hero chase another actor across the stage — this one in a jester's costume, wild-eyed, wearing an elaborate replica of a terrible mask, all swirling purple and gold — when she noticed the Clock Ward.

He was standing at the edge of the crowd, helm on despite the summer heat, watching the audience rather than the stage. Not far from him, another. And another. They were spaced around the plaza like fence posts, present and immovable and scanning. She counted seven from where she stood. She'd seen two more near the South Gate on her way in, stopping a thin man in a traveling cloak to ask for his papers.

She'd heard her grandfather mention Mayor Bremor once in the same breath as the word thorough, in the same tone he used for words like loud and sharp.

 ♩ He played the song the world forgot
He played it past the dark
He wound the hours like a clock
And kindled morning's spark ♩

The woman's voice reached the chorus and the crowd surged forward half a step. On stage, a man in silver Zora scales dove dramatically through a ring meant to suggest the ocean and came up with a bundle of glowing prop-eggs to thunderous approval. The Apprentice forgot about the Clock Wards entirely.

Each vignette unfolded with the breathless logic of a dream: the Deku King sat upon a ridiculous throne that wobbled every time the actor playing him gesticulated, which was often; the ghost of a Goron hero materialized from a trapdoor in a gust of theatrical smoke and the crowd went very quiet for a moment, the way crowds do when something catches them somewhere unexpected. A man in a great shaggy goat costume ran in circles until he tripped over his own hooves and went down to the kind of laughter that could only mean yes, exactly, that is precisely what that felt like.

A firework cracked overhead, green and gold, trailing sparks like scattered rupees. Another followed it, blue this time, blooming into the shape of the Zora's emblem before it faded. She tipped her head back and watched them burn themselves out against the Moon's pale face and felt, very specifically, that she was standing in the center of something she would want to remember.

♩ Oh, the giants heard him call
They heard him from their sleep
They cupped the Moon between their hands
And held while people weeped ♩

A third firework, and a fourth, cascading now, each one higher than the last. The crowd cheered at each one. The actor-hero raised his ocarina. The actress-Moon on stage — a round-faced woman in silver paint who had been moving through the background of every scene with a slow and cosmic patience — turned to face the audience directly for the first time, and the crowd fell hush.

The Apprentice's hand found the tin ocarina in her pocket, and she held it there without taking it out, her thumb running over the holes.

♩ They held it like a child awake from nightmares
While a boy named Link climbed for the Moon
Where children played beneath a peaceful sky
And there, at last, the darkness met its doom ♩ 

---

He did not know how long he had been on the floor.

The lantern was still burning. That meant something — not too long, then. The ledger had fallen with him and lay open on the wrong page, the pen still capped, which meant he'd put it down himself before they came through the back. He tried to be grateful for small mercies and found he was too old for it at the moment.

He pulled himself up by the counter's edge, counted his teeth with his tongue out of professional habit, and stood very still until the room agreed to stop moving.

The drawer.

He had not opened it since the morning. He had not needed to. But he crossed the shop in three long strides — longer than he'd moved in years, which told him something about the quality of his fear — and dropped to his knees and opened it.

The faded blue cloth was there.

It lay flat.

He pressed his hand against it and felt only the shape of the floor.

He sat back on his heels. Somewhere outside, a firework went off, muffled through the walls, and the crowd cheered. The bell above the front door rang with the vibration of it. Rather than a laugh, it sounded like a whimper.

Then the Happy Mask Salesman covered his face with both hands. "A terrible fate, indeed..."

---

The finale was building.

The actor-hero and the jester-Skull Kid stood at opposite ends of the stage, and between them the actress-Moon waited with her silver hands folded, and the crowd was so quiet that the Apprentice could hear the wood of the stage settling. Even the Clock Wards had turned to watch.

Then the jester-Skull Kid stepped forward and held out his hand.

And then a second Skull Kid dropped from the sky.

There was a moment — half a breath, maybe — where the Apprentice thought it was planned. The costume was too good for it not to be: the same knobbly silhouette, the same splayed posture, but the mask was wrong. It was always wrong, the prop they used, good craftsmanship but obvious, the purple just a shade too even, the eyes a shade too dim. This one caught the lanternlight and gave it back changed — older, heavier, the color of a bruise at its worst — and the eyes were not dim at all.

The jester-Skull Kid took one step backward and then sat down on the stage very suddenly, as though his legs had decided the matter without consulting him.

The second one landed without a sound.

The crowd murmured. Somewhere to her left, a man laughed and said something about the budget this year. Someone shushed him. The actress-Moon had stopped moving.

The figure in the real mask turned to face the audience, and the Apprentice felt the tin ocarina go cold in her pocket.

"Thirty-three years," it said, and the voice carried without effort, the way thunder carries — not loud exactly, but occupying all available space. "Thirty-three years you have been celebrating a story. Eating his food. Singing his songs. Teaching your children his name."

It tilted its head. The mask's eyes caught no light now, or caught all of it, or both — she couldn't tell.

"He is not coming back."

The crowd was very still. On stage, no one moved. The actor-hero still had his prop-ocarina raised, and his arm was beginning to shake with the effort of holding it.

The figure spread its arms wide, the way an actor takes a bow, and lifted slowly from the stage — not jumping, not pulled by a wire she could see, but rising — until it hung between the lanterns and the Moon's enormous face, and the Moon above seemed to lean forward, almost curious, almost eager, and the stars around it seemed to hold their light.

"Let him rest. You will join him soon enough."

The first explosion was not a firework.

It came from the direction of the North Ward and it shook the ground through the Apprentice's feet and up through her knees and into her chest, and for one long moment the crowd simply did not understand what had happened. Then the second one came, closer, and the understanding arrived all at once and became a scream that belonged to no one person and everyone at once.

The Apprentice looked up.

The Moon's face, serene all evening, was beginning to change its expression. Slowly. The way a sleeper's face changes when the dream turns.

Above the Clock Tower, the Skull Kid — the real one, the wrong one — spread its arms wider still, and laughed, and the sound of it went up and up until it was indistinguishable from the next explosion, and the next, and the screaming of the crowd that had, three minutes ago, been singing along.

In her pocket, the tin ocarina offered no comfort.

Alas, it was only tin.

---

RP Quest: Become the heroes Termina needs! Save as many people as you can!

 

The Happy Mask Salesman

Spoiler

No Blue Masks Remain in Stock!

Name	$	Description	Uses
Bremen Mask	5	While donned, summon a flock of cuccos to cancel the vote of 1 player (Day Action) or block the action of 1 player (Night Action).	2x
Bunny Hood*	5	Passively multiples the number of Rupees earned by 1.5x.	~
Don Gero Mask	5	While donned, if you are targeted by any player, this Mask will alert you of all their identities (Night Action).	2x
Postman’s Hat*	5	Passively enables Postman’s Service and earns +1 Rupee for each unique player that is delivered a message.	~
Blast Mask**	20	While donned, if you are targeted by any action, kill you and every player that targets you.	**1x Per Game
Captain’s Hat*	20	Passively allows you access to the current Loop’s Dead Doc.	~
Mask of Scents	20	While donned, discover a player’s target (Night Action).	2x
Romani Mask	20	While donned, if you are killed by any means, drink an ice cold glass of Romani milk to delay your death by 1 turn (Day/Night Passive).	~
Circus Leader Mask	50	While donned, summon the Circus to steal a random Mask from the target player (Night Action).	1x
Gibdo Mask	50	While donned, if you are killed by any means, become a zombie that can only post during the Nights. Gibdos can vote at Night to count on the next day. Gibdos do not count for Boss Mask parity at Loop’s end.	~
Keaton Mask	50	While donned, redirect either a vote (Day Action) or action (Night Action) of a player to another target.	2x
Stone Mask	50	While donned, become an untargetable object. No actions can affect you, including votes. Once put on it cannot be removed.	~
Great Fairy Mask	100	While donned, resurrect a single player (Night Action).	1x
Mask of Truth	100	While donned, discover a player’s alignment (Night Action).	1x
Fierce Deity Mask**	200	When donned, your team wins the current Loop (or Game if Final Day).	**1x Per Game

Player List

0	Amanuensis	Happy Mask Apprentice, AKA 'Ap'
1	@The Unknown Order	Heroshi
2	@Araris Valerian	"Grouchy old guy (or gal)"
3	@Wahrheitswächter	Wahi
4	@Ashbringer	Coliver
5	@coco.pudding	Amora
6	@|TJ|	Cosmetica
7	@Honors Ghost	meeee
8	@Haelbarde	Link the Goron
9	@Wonko the Sane	Zymni
10	@Doc12	Thistle
11	@Burnt Spaghetti	Cindra
12	@CoderDrag0n8	Squircle
13	@Mistfallen Soldier	Kieran
14	@Divergent	Gor Elam the Goron
15	@Archer	Ouae the Zora
16	@Hoid Slayer	Avery (Foreign Cousin of Heroshi)

Edited February 22 by Amanuensis

[Myst He/Him]

Wait… did no one die? Or did I miss it in the write-up?

[Amanuensis he/him]

Just now, Mistfallen Soldier said:

Wait… did no one die? Or did I miss it in the write-up?

Day 1-A had no execution, but MoMs can kill tonight.

[Myst He/Him]

Just now, Amanuensis said:

Day 1-A had no execution, but MoMs can kill tonight.

I forgot this was a lg, and that NKs are night actions, my bad 

Edit: I really am playing badly this game. Wow

Edited February 21 by Mistfallen Soldier

[Burnt Spaghetti she/her]

Friendly reminder that if you were the lucky recipient of one of the pretty blue masks, that you should probably not tell everyone, unless your intent is to become a potential target, in which case i guess go ahead? I can't stop you. In a weird way, death seems kinda interesting and fun in this game. I don't think theres any actual benefit to people saying if they got a mask at this stage. Maybe important information to share in the dead doc if you end up there or next loop. 'Definitely good to know what happened mask wise later I think. Though that also bears the thought - who do we actually think is more at risk - those who may have already gotten masks, or those who have potentially the funds for a better one

[Myst He/Him]

10 minutes ago, Burnt Spaghetti said:

Friendly reminder that if you were the lucky recipient of one of the pretty blue masks, that you should probably not tell everyone, unless your intent is to become a potential target, in which case i guess go ahead? I can't stop you. In a weird way, death seems kinda interesting and fun in this game. I don't think theres any actual benefit to people saying if they got a mask at this stage. Maybe important information to share in the dead doc if you end up there or next loop. 'Definitely good to know what happened mask wise later I think. Though that also bears the thought - who do we actually think is more at risk - those who may have already gotten masks, or those who have potentially the funds for a better one

Probably those who have a mask, those with funds to get a new mask could get the burst mask. That’s a 25% chance the Elim dies, and the only blue mask that lets you target is the roleblock one, so a Villager could counterclaim and we’d narrow down Elims to one of 2 people.

So I’d say the people with blue masks. That said, I did not get the postman’s mask, for now I will refrain from saying whether I got a different mask or not

[Divergent He/Him]

I've been mulling it over, but do we think now would be a good time to start sharing reads, or would it be better to withhold sharing it for now and wait until the next day arrives (since sharing them now could influence what the elims do before they even get their first kill)?

Edited February 21 by Divergent

[Myst He/Him]

8 minutes ago, Divergent said:

I've been mulling it over, but do we think now would be a good time to start sharing reads, or would it be better to withhold sharing it for now and wait until the next day arrives (since sharing them now could influence what the elims do before they even get their first kill)?

I’m waiting till votes are available, cause then I can back my reads up with action. I think that it’s best to wait, as you said, everything we say gives Elims more information. If you have something you think you absolutely need to share, then go ahead, but otherwise Id recommend waiting

[Araris Valerian he/him]

9 minutes ago, Divergent said:

I've been mulling it over, but do we think now would be a good time to start sharing reads, or would it be better to withhold sharing it for now and wait until the next day arrives (since sharing them now could influence what the elims do before they even get their first kill)?

I'd say go for it if you've got a read or two. If it impacts the elims we can factor that into our analysis moving forward. I'm a bit wary of Wonko myself.

[CoderDrag0n8 He/They]

3 hours ago, Amanuensis said:

LG110, Night 1-A: A Terrible Fate, Indeed...

Night 1-A will end on Saturday, February 21st @ 10:00 PM EST.

---

The last customer of the evening was a Goron who had wandered in from the North Gate smelling of snowmelt and celebration, turning every mask over in his great stone hands with the careful reverence of someone who had never held anything so small and fragile in his life. He bought a painted bear with a gap-toothed grin, tucked it under one arm like a clutch purse, and ambled out into the early evening with a rolling contentment that made the bell above the door laugh twice.

The Apprentice watched him go and then turned to find her grandfather already watching her.

"Go," he said.

"I haven't finished the inventory—"

"It will be here in the morning." He settled into his chair behind the counter, the one with the cushion she'd stitched for him two birthdays ago, now flattened to a disc of good intentions. "The inventory is not going anywhere. The show, however—" He tilted his head toward the window, where the orange light of a setting sun was beginning to gild the edges of the Clock Tower's face. Somewhere beyond the glass, a drum struck up, and then another, and then a brass section that had clearly been practicing all afternoon and was now absolutely certain it was ready. "—is going somewhere quite specific at quite a specific time."

She had her green cap on before he finished the sentence.

"Eat something from the vendors," he called after her. "Not the spiced nuts. They'll give you dreams."

"What kind of dreams?" she called back.

"The kind that make you wake up uncertain which one was real." He opened his ledger. "Go. Shoo."

She was almost to the door when she stopped and looked back at him — the white hair, the slow smile, the way he held a pen like he was composing rather than accounting — and felt a small, sudden pang she couldn't quite name. It passed. She chalked it up to the spiced nut warning and pushed out into the evening.

Behind her, the bell laughed. The Happy Mask Salesman listened to it until it stopped, then glanced at the wall where a single hook hung bare above its small handwritten placard. His pen paused over the ledger.

He looked away.

Then, from the direction of the South Gate, came a sharp knock — not at the door but against the frame, the particular rhythm of someone who had been celebrating since noon and was now fairly certain this was the pottery shop. The Salesman sighed, set down his pen, and went to let them in. A man in a paper crown fell through the doorway and looked at the walls with an expression of pure, undiscriminating joy.

"I'll take that one," the man said, pointing vaguely at everything.

"Of course you will," said the Salesman, and helped the drunkard to a chair. "Let's start smaller."

---

The plaza was a living thing.

It breathed in the smells of roasted corn and candied apples and the particular honest sweat of a crowd having a genuinely good time. It exhaled music and laughter and the occasional whoop from someone who had just won something at Honey & Darling's. Banners caught the last of the daylight along East Street and turned it into something ceremonial. The Clock Tower rose above it all with its patient stone face, and beneath it — so small and bright and fizzing with energy that she could have been a firefly that had learned to walk — the Apprentice stepped into the plaza and immediately stopped to breathe it all in.

The Carnival Stage had been erected opposite the Tower, a broad wooden platform draped in moon-silver cloth and lit from below by lanterns in blue and gold. It was already packed five deep on all sides. She wriggled through with the practiced efficiency of someone accustomed to small spaces and stock shelves and came out near the front just as the drum roll settled into something stately and the first actor strode onto the stage.

He was young, playing older — or perhaps he was old playing young; it was hard to tell under the makeup. He wore a green tunic that had seen careful work, a pointed cap, and a little wooden shield painted gold that caught the lanternlight when he turned. The crowd applauded like they were greeting a returning friend.

The Moon was out.

She noticed it the way you notice something that has always been there but suddenly chooses to be noticed: a pale and enormous face gazing down from the darkening sky with an expression of absolute serenity, eyes half-lidded, neither kind nor cruel but simply watching, the way the very old watch the very young at play. The stars were already visible around it, smaller and uncertain. The Moon needed no introduction.

♩ There was a world like any other
With fields and stones and bread
And underneath a rolling sky
A boy who wouldn't stay dead ♩

The lyrics floated out over the crowd on the voice of a woman somewhere stage left, full and clear and pitched to carry. The Apprentice felt them land in her chest like chimes. Around her, people who had heard this song every year for as long as they could remember mouthed the words without thinking.

She was watching the actor-hero chase another actor across the stage — this one in a jester's costume, wild-eyed, wearing an elaborate replica of a terrible mask, all swirling purple and gold — when she noticed the Clock Ward.

He was standing at the edge of the crowd, helm on despite the summer heat, watching the audience rather than the stage. Not far from him, another. And another. They were spaced around the plaza like fence posts, present and immovable and scanning. She counted seven from where she stood. She'd seen two more near the South Gate on her way in, stopping a thin man in a traveling cloak to ask for his papers.

She'd heard her grandfather mention Mayor Bremor once in the same breath as the word thorough, in the same tone he used for words like loud and sharp.

 ♩ He played the song the world forgot
He played it past the dark
He wound the hours like a clock
And kindled morning's spark ♩

The woman's voice reached the chorus and the crowd surged forward half a step. On stage, a man in silver Zora scales dove dramatically through a ring meant to suggest the ocean and came up with a bundle of glowing prop-eggs to thunderous approval. The Apprentice forgot about the Clock Wards entirely.

Each vignette unfolded with the breathless logic of a dream: the Deku King sat upon a ridiculous throne that wobbled every time the actor playing him gesticulated, which was often; the ghost of a Goron hero materialized from a trapdoor in a gust of theatrical smoke and the crowd went very quiet for a moment, the way crowds do when something catches them somewhere unexpected. A man in a great shaggy goat costume ran in circles until he tripped over his own hooves and went down to the kind of laughter that could only mean yes, exactly, that is precisely what that felt like.

A firework cracked overhead, green and gold, trailing sparks like scattered rupees. Another followed it, blue this time, blooming into the shape of the Zora's emblem before it faded. She tipped her head back and watched them burn themselves out against the Moon's pale face and felt, very specifically, that she was standing in the center of something she would want to remember.

♩ Oh, the giants heard him call
They heard him from their sleep
They cupped the Moon between their hands
And held it while people weeped ♩

A third firework, and a fourth, cascading now, each one higher than the last. The crowd cheered at each one. The actor-hero raised his ocarina. The actress-Moon on stage — a round-faced woman in silver paint who had been moving through the background of every scene with a slow and cosmic patience — turned to face the audience directly for the first time, and the crowd fell hush.

The Apprentice's hand found the tin ocarina in her pocket, and she held it there without taking it out, her thumb running over the holes.

♩ They held it like a child awake from nightmares
While a boy named Link climbed for the Moon
Where children played beneath a peaceful sky
And there, at last, the darkness met its doom ♩ 

---

He did not know how long he had been on the floor.

The lantern was still burning. That meant something — not too long, then. The ledger had fallen with him and lay open on the wrong page, the pen still capped, which meant he'd put it down himself before they came through the back. He tried to be grateful for small mercies and found he was too old for it at the moment.

He pulled himself up by the counter's edge, counted his teeth with his tongue out of professional habit, and stood very still until the room agreed to stop moving.

The drawer.

He had not opened it since the morning. He had not needed to. But he crossed the shop in three long strides — longer than he'd moved in years, which told him something about the quality of his fear — and dropped to his knees and opened it.

The faded blue cloth was there.

It lay flat.

He pressed his hand against it and felt only the shape of the floor.

He sat back on his heels. Somewhere outside, a firework went off, muffled through the walls, and the crowd cheered. The bell above the front door rang with the vibration of it. Rather than a laugh, it sounded like a whimper.

Then the Happy Mask Salesman covered his face with both hands. "A terrible fate, indeed..."

---

The finale was building.

The actor-hero and the jester-Skull Kid stood at opposite ends of the stage, and between them the actress-Moon waited with her silver hands folded, and the crowd was so quiet that the Apprentice could hear the wood of the stage settling. Even the Clock Wards had turned to watch.

Then the jester-Skull Kid stepped forward and held out his hand.

And then a second Skull Kid dropped from the sky.

There was a moment — half a breath, maybe — where the Apprentice thought it was planned. The costume was too good for it not to be: the same knobbly silhouette, the same splayed posture, but the mask was wrong. It was always wrong, the prop they used, good craftsmanship but obvious, the purple just a shade too even, the eyes a shade too dim. This one caught the lanternlight and gave it back changed — older, heavier, the color of a bruise at its worst — and the eyes were not dim at all.

The jester-Skull Kid took one step backward and then sat down on the stage very suddenly, as though his legs had decided the matter without consulting him.

The second one landed without a sound.

The crowd murmured. Somewhere to her left, a man laughed and said something about the budget this year. Someone shushed him. The actress-Moon had stopped moving.

The figure in the real mask turned to face the audience, and the Apprentice felt the tin ocarina go cold in her pocket.

"Thirty-three years," it said, and the voice carried without effort, the way thunder carries — not loud exactly, but occupying all available space. "Thirty-three years you have been celebrating a story. Eating his food. Singing his songs. Teaching your children his name."

It tilted its head. The mask's eyes caught no light now, or caught all of it, or both — she couldn't tell.

"He is not coming back."

The crowd was very still. On stage, no one moved. The actor-hero still had his prop-ocarina raised, and his arm was beginning to shake with the effort of holding it.

The figure spread its arms wide, the way an actor takes a bow, and lifted slowly from the stage — not jumping, not pulled by a wire she could see, but rising — until it hung between the lanterns and the Moon's enormous face, and the Moon above seemed to lean forward, almost curious, almost eager, and the stars around it seemed to hold their light.

"Let him rest. You will join him soon enough."

The first explosion was not a firework.

It came from the direction of the North Ward and it shook the ground through the Apprentice's feet and up through her knees and into her chest, and for one long moment the crowd simply did not understand what had happened. Then the second one came, closer, and the understanding arrived all at once and became a scream that belonged to no one person and everyone at once.

The Apprentice looked up.

The Moon's face, serene all evening, was beginning to change its expression. Slowly. The way a sleeper's face changes when the dream turns.

Above the Clock Tower, the Skull Kid — the real one, the wrong one — spread its arms wider still, and laughed, and the sound of it went up and up until it was indistinguishable from the next explosion, and the next, and the screaming of the crowd that had, three minutes ago, been singing along.

In her pocket, the tin ocarina offered no comfort.

Alas, it was only tin.

---

RP Quest: Become the heroes Termina needs! Save as many people as you can!

 

The Happy Mask Salesman

  Reveal hidden contents

No Blue Masks Remain in Stock!

Name	$	Description	Uses
Bremen Mask	5	While donned, summon a flock of cuccos to cancel the vote of 1 player (Day Action) or block the action of 1 player (Night Action).	2x
Bunny Hood*	5	Passively multiples the number of Rupees earned by 1.5x.	~
Don Gero Mask	5	While donned, if you are targeted by any player, this Mask will alert you of all their identities (Night Action).	2x
Postman’s Hat*	5	Passively enables Postman’s Service and earns +1 Rupee for each unique player that is delivered a message.	~
Blast Mask**	20	While donned, if you are targeted by any action, kill you and every player that targets you.	**1x Per Game
Captain’s Hat*	20	Passively allows you access to the current Loop’s Dead Doc.	~
Mask of Scents	20	While donned, discover a player’s target (Night Action).	2x
Romani Mask	20	While donned, if you are killed by any means, drink an ice cold glass of Romani milk to delay your death by 1 turn (Day/Night Passive).	~
Circus Leader Mask	50	While donned, summon the Circus to steal a random Mask from the target player (Night Action).	1x
Gibdo Mask	50	While donned, if you are killed by any means, become a zombie that can only post during the Nights. Gibdos can vote at Night to count on the next day. Gibdos do not count for Boss Mask parity at Loop’s end.	~
Keaton Mask	50	While donned, redirect either a vote (Day Action) or action (Night Action) of a player to another target.	2x
Stone Mask	50	While donned, become an untargetable object. No actions can affect you, including votes. Once put on it cannot be removed.	~
Great Fairy Mask	100	While donned, resurrect a single player (Night Action).	1x
Mask of Truth	100	While donned, discover a player’s alignment (Night Action).	1x
Fierce Deity Mask**	200	When donned, your team wins the current Loop (or Game if Final Day).	**1x Per Game

Player List

0	Amanuensis	Happy Mask Apprentice, AKA 'Ap'
1	@The Unknown Order	Heroshi
2	@Araris Valerian	"Grouchy old guy (or gal)"
3	@Wahrheitswächter	Wahi
4	@Ashbringer	Coliver
5	@coco.pudding	Amora
6	@|TJ|	Cosmetica
7	@Honors Ghost	meeee
8	@Haelbarde	Link the Goron
9	@Wonko the Sane	Zymni
10	@Doc12	Thistle
11	@Burnt Spaghetti	Cindra
12	@CoderDrag0n8	Squircle
13	@Mistfallen Soldier	Kieran
14	@Divergent	Gor Elam the Goron
15	@Archer	Ouae the Zora
16	@Hoid Slayer	Avery (Foreign Cousin of Heroshi)

Wow not much to say for one of my 2 remaining discussion posts...

So i'll just say that Aman actually started me off with 200 rupees (because I am really cool) but I failed my attempt to get the FD so...

Who else started off with 200 rupees? Everyone start trying to figure this out, stat.

(For the record, this is a joke, I have notin. Absolutely notin. Besides 3.14159 rupees)

- - -

Squircle walked over to the playground.

It was empty, of course it was.

Everyone here called it abandoned for a reason.

He noticed it was sunset. Strange. I feel this sense of foreboding...

BOOM!

He gets thrown back. Thankfully, no one else was there, and he had stood far back, at least relatively.

He shakingly got up. Human bodies, He thought, sighing at his weakness.

He hurried over to the Fairy Fountain.

-- -- --

He didn't have to throw any rupees in this time.

The skull-masked one! He is back! The Great Fairy exclaimed, then describing what had happened in the plaza. Go! Now!

What could he do but run to help?

[Divergent He/Him]

1 hour ago, Mistfallen Soldier said:

I’m waiting till votes are available, cause then I can back my reads up with action. I think that it’s best to wait, as you said, everything we say gives Elims more information. If you have something you think you absolutely need to share, then go ahead, but otherwise Id recommend waiting

1 hour ago, Araris Valerian said:

I'd say go for it if you've got a read or two. If it impacts the elims we can factor that into our analysis moving forward. I'm a bit wary of Wonko myself.

I thought it over, and I think it would be fine to share. These are small leanings atm and Araris makes a good point that it can be something that can be factored into our analysis moving forward.

I have a village lean on Hael for being the one who initially advocated for people to be cautious about what they're doing with their rupees. Of course, it's something that an elim could say to have some brownie points, but he did it at a time where nothing of consequence was shared yet, so I feel that that comes from village motivation.

I also have a village lean on Archer. I thought it was good for him to remind people that masks can be purchased only in the first cycle. What makes this a village lean is that it demonstrated that he had a good grasp of the mechanics of the game, but only shared strategy that would be helpful to the village and only offered strategy ideas to the elims once Wonko made it somewhat inevitable that it would be discussed.

And I do agree that I am also wary of Wonko atm. It could be just a villager who was excited to share information since he had experience with a game with similar mechanics, and didn't realize that he was giving information that would be more helpful to the elims. But it could also be coming from an elim who either made a slip or that this could be setting up a narrative that the NK targets have to be people we are suspicious of.

[Through the living Wahr He/Him]

It was a beautifull Show, until the second Skull Kid appeared and the explosions started, the shaking of the Ground resulting from the explosions knocked Wahi of his feet, as he landed on one of his shoulders, "Aahh" he shouted in pain as he heared the crunching Sound of a broken bone and the pain searing in his arm. "My arm" he said, quieter as he tried to get back on his feet while the Crowd around him panicked no one seemed to notice the young man with a broken arm, who was trying to get back up again, one of his knees hurt too, but that wasnt broken, it was just bloodie.

(Open invitation to help or ignore a young man with a broken arm)

Edited February 21 by Wahrheitswächter

[Myst He/Him]

47 minutes ago, Wahrheitswächter said:

It was a beautifull Show, until the second Skull Kid appeared and the explosions started, the shacking of the Grouny resulting from the explosions knocked Wahi of his feet, as he landet on one of his shoulders, "Aahh" he shouted in pain as he heared the crunching Sound of a broken bone and the pain searing in his arm. "My arm" he said, quieter as he tried to get back on his feet while the Crowd around him panicked no one seemed to notice the young man with a broken arm, who was grying to get back up again, one of his knee hurt too, but that wasnt broke, it was just bloodie.

(Open invitation to help or ignore a young man with a broken arm)

Quote

I gotcha 

Kieran scrambled through the crowd, drawing his short sword as he did so. It was certainly a good idea to wear it tonight.

He heard a sound, a cry of pain. Searching, Kieran quickly located the source. He ran over, reaching a hand out, “Hey, are you alright? You look hurt”

[Through the living Wahr He/Him]

"Thanks" I say as I take the hand with my good arm and pull myswlf up again "I think I broke my right arm when I fell, and my knee hurts too." I say as I lean against the Wall of a near by building "do you by any chance now a Doctor in the City?"

Edited February 21 by Wahrheitswächter