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Cycle 6:

   Doctor Dandelion knelt beside Colonel Ketchup. “I'm afraid all the symptoms point to poison. I can't be sure what kind of poison unless I was able to get him to the hospital.”

  “I'm sorry, I can't allow that, Doctor.” Chief Chartreuse stared of in the distance as if lost in thought.

  “This man will die if you don't let me take him.”

  “He doesn't have enough time, Doctor. He's barely clinging to life as it is.”

  Doctor Dandelion felt a surge of helplessness and anger wash over him.

  “You're in on it, aren't you?! You're just keeping us all here until we die!” He pulled a gun from his back pocket and pointed it at the chief.

  Several guns pointed at him in return, the policemen in the room ready to defend their chief.

  “Stand down, Doctor. I'm on the side of right. I'll allow you to be interrogated next so that we may decide whether we can escort you to your hospital. Then you may run your tests.”

  “He could be dead by then!” Doctor Dandelion saw a quick movement out of the corner of his eye and it caused him to jump, accidentally firing the gun, and hitting Chief Chartreuse square in the chest.

  She looked down at the hole in her jacket, her expression unwavering. “Are you quite through?”

  Doctor Dandelion gaped and dropped his hand to the side. “You're a...a…”

  “A high epic? I'm just like you, Doctor. Powers don't change who I am. They only allow me to serve the greater good to the best of my abilities. Now if you please, follow Officer Olive to the interrogation room so we can allow you to go on with helping others where we need you. I'd much rather have you on our side.”

  Doctor Dandelion started to protest, but the sound of Colonel Ketchup's last breath escaping his lips was a sign that the Chief was right.

____________________________

    Señor Shqueeves was hungry. The kitchen would surely be empty this time of night. Especially after all the murders going around. Thank goodness he could just use his invisibility to sneak in and out.

  The kitchen was quiet, save for the soft ticking of a clock on the nearby wall. He tread softly, not willing to risk becoming visible. He glanced around the kitchen and noticed a can of beans sitting on the counter. Perfect! Just what he was craving. He picked it up and began to move towards the cabinets, looking for a pan.

  He paused and cocked his head. The ticking of the clock sounded abnormally close. He absentmindedly looked at the clock on the wall. It read half past 2...PM? That wasn't right. Come to think of it...the second hand wasn't even moving. So where's the ticking coming…. He glanced at the can of beans in his hand and his eyes grew wide.

  Señor Shqueeves made a mess in the kitchen.

_______________________________

Kidpen has been interrogated and found to be an innocent Democrat with a Gun item.

Shqueeves was murdered by the Rightful Rulers. He was an innocent Democrat epic with the power of Invisibility.

Cadmium Compounder has died from the poison. He was an innocent Democratic epic with the power of X-ray Vision.

Vote Count:

Spoiler

Kidpen (2) - CadCom, Devotary

Shqueeves (1) - Megasif

Gancho Libre (1) - Kidpen

Due to there being a death, the Dining Room has been closed as a crime scene and will be reopened next cycle. All players in the room have been randomly shuffled elsewhere.

________________________________

Room distribution: 

Dining room:

Closed for this cycle.

Living Quarters:
Sart

Crimsn-Wolf

Droughtbringer 

Devotary

Ballroom:

Gancho Libre

Megasif

Kitchen:

Stink

Mr Doctor

_______________________________

Cycle clocks are currently down. Rollover will be at 10 PM CST on 10/24.

Player List:

Spoiler

1.  ̶E̶l̶a̶n̶d̶e̶r̶a̶-̶ ̶R̶a̶v̶e̶n̶. vanilla Democrat

2. K̶i̶d̶p̶e̶n̶-̶ ̶D̶o̶c̶t̶o̶r̶ ̶D̶a̶n̶d̶e̶l̶i̶o̶n̶ vanilla Democrat
3. Mr Doctor- Sir Sabien
4. S̶h̶q̶u̶e̶e̶v̶e̶s̶-̶ ̶S̶e̶n̶õ̶r̶ ̶S̶h̶q̶u̶e̶e̶v̶e̶s̶ ̶ epic Democrat
5. Devotary of Spontaneity- Major Muave
6. Crimsn Wolf- Shaman Sky
7. I think I am here- Aristocrat Azure vanilla Democrat
8. Stink- Supreme Slovenly 
9. Droughtbringer- Zär Zaffre
10. S̶n̶i̶p̶e̶x̶e̶-̶ ̶S̶a̶p̶p̶h̶i̶r̶e̶ ̶S̶n̶i̶p̶ epic Democrat
11. D̶e̶a̶t̶h̶C̶l̶u̶t̶c̶h̶1̶9̶-̶ ̶C̶o̶m̶m̶o̶d̶o̶r̶e̶ ̶C̶l̶u̶t̶c̶h̶ vanilla Democrat
12. Sart- Father Fuchsia 
13. Megasif- Mega
14.  ̶X̶i̶n̶o̶e̶h̶p̶5̶1̶2̶-̶ ̶N̶a̶i̶d̶i̶r̶i̶v̶ vanilla Democrat
15. C̶a̶d̶m̶i̶u̶m̶ ̶C̶o̶m̶p̶o̶u̶n̶d̶e̶r̶-̶ ̶C̶o̶l̶o̶n̶e̶l̶ ̶K̶e̶t̶c̶h̶u̶p̶ ̶ epic Democrat
16. C̶o̶o̶p̶7̶7̶2̶-̶ ̶O̶s̶c̶a̶r̶ ̶O̶c̶e̶a̶n̶ vanilla Democrat
17. Gancho Libre- Bro Beige

 

Edited by BrightnessRadiant
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IM SORRY CADCOM FOR DOUBTING YOU!!!!

Quote

Gancho would have known that he was the only viable suspect for poisoning CadCom, as Stink was confirmed to have a mobile.  Gancho did vote for CadCom cycle 2, so it makes sense that Gancho would have chosen to poison CadCom over Stink. However, Gancho has been in the same room as CadCom the entire game, yet waited until cycle 4 to poison him. @Gancho Libre, why did you chose to use your poison when you did?

 

That was someone's question from last round, but for some reason, it isn't quoting. For pinging anyone, for that matter. If this was you sorry.

Anyway, to answer the question, I had wanted to wait until I had solid evidence against someone, but then I realized that if I died, and I could at any time, I would lose my chance.

However, because I poisoned Cadcom, and it was wrong, I'll vote for Megasif, as they were next in line of Cadcom's suspects. :)

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I will vote for Megasif as well. Stink, Gancho, and Megasif were in the Dining Room with Shqueeves last cycle when he died. I do believe Gancho's use of poison when and how he did suggests that he's a villager. I'm also inclined to view Stink's request to have a room to himself as village indicative, because doing so as an elim would cut down on the number of people available to make kills without providing much in the way of benefit. Perhaps an elim phaser would request this, but Stink is unlikely to be a phaser, as phasing would cause him to lose his mobile, exposing him if anyone tried to PM him back. That leaves Megasif as the most likely killer, unless an elim phaser came into the Dining Room.

Looking at the list of players without known powers, the possible phasers who weren't in the Dining Room last cycle are Droughtbringer, Mr Doctor, and me. One of the former two almost certainly possesses Sart's mobile, probably Droughtbringer seeing as how Mr Doctor apparently forgot about the mobile. Droughtbringer wouldn't be able to phase without losing his mobile, which makes the likeliest scenarios: Mr Doctor is an elim phaser or Megasif was the one to submit the kill. If Mr Doctor was an elim phaser, he easily could have killed someone cycle two, as he was online for rollover and would have been able to target whoever he wanted. That narrows the probable possibilities down to one; that Megasif killed Shqueeves and is thus evil.

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19 hours ago, Sart said:

Well, it's painfully obvious that the village has probably lost this game. Still, I'll put a probably symbolic vote on Mr. Doctor, and pray for forgiveness from the Contribution Crusade.

Uh, okay. Any other reasons for voting on me?

 

2 hours ago, Devotary of Spontaneity said:

Looking at the list of players without known powers, the possible phasers who weren't in the Dining Room last cycle are Droughtbringer, Mr Doctor, and me. One of the former two almost certainly possesses Sart's mobile, probably Droughtbringer seeing as how Mr Doctor apparently forgot about the mobile. Droughtbringer wouldn't be able to phase without losing his mobile, which makes the likeliest scenarios: Mr Doctor is an elim phaser or Megasif was the one to submit the kill. If Mr Doctor was an elim phaser, he easily could have killed someone cycle two, as he was online for rollover and would have been able to target whoever he wanted. That narrows the probable possibilities down to one; that Megasif killed Shqueeves and is thus evil.

I do not have the Mobile, as was pretty obvious. And I haven't done nearly enough moving to be a Phaser, but that's not really provable. 

As for Megasif, I think this makes a decent amount of sense. However, I'm not convinced that it's actually worth it. I'm pretty busy today but I'll have time to put in a vote.

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Sabien Ash strode through the magnificent hallways of the Grand Peacock, his polished shoes clicking on the floor. Excellent shoes, they were, made of a smooth leather that really did not look like it had been made from a cow…

The tall, thin man saw a police officer standing at the end of the hallway and called out.

“My good man, would you mind opening the door?”

Private Periwinkle glared at him in response. “Not your servant, mate.”

Sabien Ash smiled toothily. “I wouldn’t want to injure myself, because those doors look heavy and I’ve never had the greatest of physiques. You have far more meat on your bones.”

Periwinkle looked down at himself and then up at Sabien as the tall man in the maroon suit approached. “Why should I care?” the policeman asked.

Sabien grinned down at the man, standing a little too close and breathing in deeply through his long nose.

“Because your Chief would hardly want to hear that a man of my…prestige…was injured under your watch,” Sabien said. “She’s already dealing with the unfortunate deaths of several guests, and for a prominent businessman to be slighted by the police…unheard of!”

Periwinkle frowned. “I don’t think the Chief cares much about you, creep.”

Sabien smirked. “My blue friend, your Chief and I have a wondrous history that we simply must tell you about sometime over dinner. Perhaps I’ll invite you around to see my décor! The house can be…captivating.”

Periwinkle felt a trickle of dread down his spine that he could not quite describe. “Uh. Alright…?”

Sabien’s smile grew wolfish. “Be a good man and open the door.”

The police officer moved smartly to do so, and Sabien strode forth, touching the man on the arm with thin fingers and leaving them there for just long enough to make it feel like he was testing the man’s bicep.

Sabien strode into the kitchen, now cold and dead since the cooks had been interrogated and sent home. A pity, he could have done with some assistance. Supreme Slovenly was passed out in the corner, living up to his name, the light of his mobile illuminating his face.

Sabien tugged off his maroon suit jacket, revealing a black shirt and red waistcoat underneath. With deft fingers he rolled up his sleeves and walked over to the cookers of the kitchen.

“Tell, me Slovenly,” he said, his voice echoing off the pots and pans hanging from their hooks. “What meal befits a queen?”

A slight snore came from the other man in the room.

“Meat, of course,” Sabien mused. “But what kind? A chunky goulash with a sauce rich in spices? A side of steak, seared on the outside so that blood drips when it is cut, with a garlic-potato mash on the side?”

He reached out to a row of knives, shining in the fluorescent lights of the kitchen, and ran his fingers over their handles. “Perhaps something simple. Something with only a few flavours, given enough room to each sing.”

The thin man smiled and tapped his arm with a finger. “Something comfortable, I think.”

He swivelled his head once, to get his bearings, and strode off to the large pantry. He snagged a basket from the side and slung it over his arm, then walked into the room with its walls lined with food.

Sir Sabien hummed a few bars of a song that, had anyone been listening, would have been recognised as the one he had played on the piano before the chandelier had fallen on poor Raven’s head. He picked out a few things here and there, forgoing many of the more expensive and exotic ingredients for simple things. Green peppers, steak, red and white onion. He measured a cup of rice and set it in a microwave to cook.

He returned to the kitchen and pulled a knife from the rack. With practiced ease he began to slice up the meat into little slivers, pausing only to turn on a gas flame under a pan.

Sabien tipped the steak into the pan and began to slice the peppers and onion. “You know, Slovenly,” he said conversationally.

The only reply was the sizzling meat.

“What makes greatness?” Sabien asked. “Status, many say. Wealth, say others. I have both of these things, but am I great? Do people grovel before me when I enter?”

He tested the steak with the point of a knife.

“No. They notice me, but only through shock and flair do they pay me any attention. Greatness is inherent. Greatness comes from within and requires minimal effort to exert.”

Sabien tossed the onions into the pan and grabbed a pepper grinder from the side, then sprinkled a bit over the meat and onions. He then selected a fresh knife and began to slice the peppers.

“It could be said that greatness is made by power,” he said. “Perhaps that is what I’ve been missing: power.”

Sabien tossed the peppers in and closed his eyes, listening to them sizzle and pop with a smile. He then strode to the fridge and selected a jar of jalapenos.

“But the paradox exists, then, that some in power do not have greatness. So we return to our question: what makes greatness, if not power?”

He fished a few of the jalapenos from the jar and tossed them into the pan, then added drizzle of soy sauce from the side, and began to stir it all with a wooden spoon.

“I find that wood is more soothing a material,” the thin man admitted. “Metal utensils, they take the softness away from everything. Cooking, like everything, requires a gentle touch.”

Then he grinned ruefully. “But I can never resist a good knife.”

Sir Sabien took the rice from the microwave and found a gleaming white bowl, then filled it with rice and pepper steak. He held it under his nose and breathed in deeply.

“A meal fit for a queen,” he said, and strode to the door.

Sabien pushed it open. “Periwinkle,” he said.

The police officer jumped in surprise. “Huh? What the…you cooked?”

“I figured someone must be hungry,” the thin man admitted. “Slovenly in there seems to have fallen asleep. Perhaps you could wake him up by taking him to your Chief for a talking-to.”

Perwinkle blinked. “Uh. I’ll have to go and see.”

Sir Sabien Ash grinned widely and held out the bowl of steaming pepper steak and rice with a fork sticking out of it. “Be a good man and take this to her, will you? She’s had a long week.”


In case that wasn't obvious, I'm voting on STINK.
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Major Mauve had undergone the Rending mere weeks after escaping Newcago following Steelheart’s death. Travelling with a group of fellow refugees, he had stumbled and collapsed, dropping the box of canned food he had been carrying. The wooden box split open, spilling cans of soup on the ground as Mauve fell to his knees, head thudding against the intact top of the box. Invisible fingers burning with heat grasped at him, and Mauve screamed in pain and terror as he felt them scald his flesh. Concerned, the refugee walking behind him knelt down and made to help Mauve up to his feet. Instinctively, Mauve shrank away from the touch, rolling forward and passing through the box. The other refugees were surprised to observe a man roll through a box as if it wasn’t there, but Mauve was fueled solely by rage and pain. How dare a mere mortal attempt to lay hands on him! Heedless of the consequences, Mauve pulled out his Enforcer’s pistol and shot the hapless refugee in the head. The remainder of the group overcame their shock, with the few of them that possessed guns drawing them and returning fire. Their pathetic attempt at defiance soon ended as every bullet that would have hit him instead went straight through him without even leaving a mark on his clothes. The smart ones dropped their supplies and ran, while Mauve executed those too slow to flee. When the last of the surviving refugees outstripped the range of his pistol, Mauve drew his sniper rifle and began to track down the survivors. Seven years spent silencing dissidents with this same rifle had honed Mauve’s skills, and one by one the fleeing refugees died from a bullet to the back. Soon, fifteen corpses littered the countryside, the only witnesses to Mauve’s transformation. Satisfied, the High Epic Spectre collected all the food, water, and weaponry he could transport, leaving the rest to rot alongside the bodies of his former companions.

Spectre spent the next few couple of months living by himself in the forests of Appalachia. It was peaceful there, with no humans to interfere with him. His powers demanded that he hunt and kill, and so he did, learning the extents of his newfound abilities in the process. He could not phase through living beings, as he found out while attempting to walk through an oak tree. He could, however, walk soundlessly by allowing his feet to sink slightly into the ground with every step. The wind could not carry his scent to those who would have fled at the odor of a human. He no longer felt cold or heat, and rain merely obscured his vision. Spectre might have happily lived the rest of his life alone in the forest, but his powers had other ideas. Every night as Spectre lay down to sleep the nightmares came. The details changed but the general pattern never changed; people Spectre had known in his pre-Epic days grasping for him, clawing at his flesh. Every touch inflicted pure agony, an electric shock sending a single message to every pain receptor in his body. He always woke up screaming, frightening away the wildlife in the area. Every day this continued, Spectre had to travel further and further to hunt down his next meal, and the nightmares continued to get worse. People with faces he couldn’t recall would hold him down while the most important people in his past life; his parents, his sister, his best friend from the Enforcers, would embrace him and whisper that he was a coward, an embarrassment who had been granted great power and squandered it. Their words hurt almost as much as their touch. Spectre slowly went mad; from hunger, from sleep deprivation, from the pain that lingered even into his waking hours. Finally, he couldn’t take it any longer. He placed his loaded pistol against his temple and pulled the trigger. The bullet whizzed through his skull, missing his body entirely. The voice of his mother mocked him for his weakness, telling him that he should have been grateful for the gift he had been given. His father chimed in, telling Spectre that if he was too pathetic to take his own life, he’d better find someone else to do it for him. Weakened by the continual torment, Spectre was in no position to resist. Grabbing ahold of his pistol, sniper rifle, and all the ammunition he could carry, he fled the forest, searching for someone who could end his misery.

Spectre raced through the woods as fast as he could, the voices in his head urging him on. He tripped and fell several times, but no fall could hurt him so long as he fell on solid ground. After running all day, he finally came across another human for the first time since he’d murdered the refugee group, an older man evidently doing some hunting of his own. As the man raised his hand in greeting, the murderous feelings he had felt when he’d first become Epic returned. Spectre raised his rifle and killed him before the man realized his greeting would not be reciprocated. That night, the nightmares were muted, less painful than before. His parents no longer criticized his actions, though their touch was still excruciating. Spectre learned from that experience, and upon waking he set out in search of more humans to murder. For the next couple of years up until the day Calamity fell, Spectre roamed the Eastern seaboard, killing dozens in every city he visited. He never set out to challenge any Epics, nor did he seek to claim any territory, he merely killed mercilessly, every death soothing his internal agonies. What minor Epics did come after him were quickly slaughtered, and the High Epics that could have conceivably hurt him were content to ignore him so long as he didn’t stay for than a day in any city. Two years and tens of thousands of deaths later, Spectre had become so used to staving off his nightmares with bloodshed that their abrupt end of was merely a welcome relief rather than a miracle. Experimentally, Spectre abstained from murdering anyone the following day. The nightmares didn’t come, nor did the voices of his parents condemn him. Intrigued, Spectre didn’t kill anyone the second or third days either, enjoying the feeling of being able to walk publicly through the streets in broad daylight. On the fourth day, a woman bumped into him while he was walking along the sidewalk and Spectre reflexively shot her. This kill felt different from the ones he had committed under Calamity’s influence, more satisfying somehow now that he was killing of his own free will. The other pedestrians objected to the violent murder, so Spectre starting shooting at the rest of them until the survivors began to flee. A few foolish bystanders decided to fight back, and Spectre laughed uncontrollably as he killed them. His previous murders had been toil, but this was liberation. The fear exuding from the helpless civilians as they discovered that walls and locked doors were no barrier to Spectre was delicious. Perhaps this heady sensation was what Steelheart felt ruling Newcago. For the first time, Spectre felt the ambition to rule a city of his own. No more travelling along destroyed roads, no kill quotas necessary for his mental well being, just a city packed with human prey he could pick off at his leisure. Still grinning, Spectre began the trek to Babylon Restored, the closest populated city.

Arriving in Babylon Restored, Spectre quickly found that claiming a city was far more difficult from merely staying in one. He couldn’t just murder a bunch of unpowered humans and leave, here he would have to defeat the more powerful Epics. The first one that he encountered had what appeared to be one of Steelheart’s powers. His bullets bounced off her steel skin, and though she couldn’t hurt him while she was in that form, neither was Spectre able to defeat her. He needed something he hadn’t had since Newcago; allies. Fortunately, Spectre was able to find other disaffected Epics and human pawns who were only too willing to help him wrest the city away from the fools who spoke of democracy. Spectre and his new accomplices slaughtered them effortlessly, drawing sustenance from their fear and panic. Finally, the moment came when the last Democrat could be killed, and the Steel Epic left vulnerable. Soon, Spectre could begin culling the population of Babylon Restored, as was his right as a High Epic.

Megasif, Stink.

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   Father Fuchsia had always lived a good life. He always tried to help those in need and keep his faith that someday humans and epics could live together peacefully.

  The cold revolver in his hand felt as heavy as the guilt in his heart. He couldn't kill anyone even if it was in self defense. He tossed the gun aside, disgusted with having even considered it.

  “Don't worry, Father. I'll commit the sins you cannot.”

  Father Fuchsia whirled to see Major Muave standing before him, an evil leer across his lips.

  “How did you get in?!”

  “Walls are merely doors that others cannot use.” He grinned and aimed the gun at Father Fuchsia’s head.

“By the way, what would you like your suicide note to say?”

____________________________

    Supreme Slovenly slouched in a chair as the police chief addressed the remaining occupants of the hotel. He barely knew what everyone was talking about since he'd mostly spent the entire time in the hotel asleep.

  “I have good news and bad news.” Chief Chartreuse addressed the civilians along with her police force at the dining room table.

  “The good news is we have solved the murder of Governor Green.”

  Eyes shifted nervously around the table and people waited eagerly for her next words.

  “The bad news is that Shaman Sky has escaped the hotel and vanished. An epic made of steel who's chosen the wrong path is not someone we want on the loose. I promise you, we will do everything in our power to bring her to justice.”

  She paused and cleared her throat.

  “That being said, I thank you all very much for your patience and cooperation. You are free to go.”

____________________________

    “We are here today to honour those who have fallen in the name of Democracy.”

  Zar Zaffre stood before the city, his hands folded behind his back and his expression solemn.

  “These great men and women shall be avenged.” Tears caught in Zaffre's throat and he stopped to wipe his eyes.

  Mega stood among the crowd gathered to hear the speech. A small grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. Zaffre certainly could put on a good show.

  He spotted Bro. Biege not far away and made his way through the crowd to stand next to him.

  “That was quite an experience, huh?”

  Bro Biege recognized Mega and nodded. “I can't believe I made it out alive. I was sure I was doomed in there.”

  Mega lowered his voice to a whisper. “I can't believe they didn't catch you for poisoning the Colonel."

  Biege’s eyes flicked to the side and the muscles in his neck twitched as he continued to stare at Zaffre along with the rest of the crowd.

  “Don't worry, your secret is safe with us.”

  “Us?”

  Biege felt a piece of paper slipped into his hand and turned to face Mega but he was gone. Trembling slightly he opened the paper and glanced down at it, hiding it’s contents from any nosy onlookers.

Thanks for the help. Call us if you're interested ~RR

____________________________

   Mega killed Green with the knife by using illusion to hide that he wasn't actually at the table. We hired a mutation epic to try and kill Shaman Sky because I suspected her weakness was wolves, but I was wrong.

  Raven was hard, but we managed it. Clever of Sabien to play that song so they'd be sure and dance long enough for the poem to be read while the Chandelier was successfully released in time. All Mega had to do was set the book on the table and wait for someone to read the poem.

  Then there was Mega playing around by scaring Snip with those illusory shears just so he could see his expression before he killed him from behind.

  And once again someone was foolish enough to enter the kitchen. Mega does love his illusions. A bomb disguised as a can of beans.

  Chief Chartreuse chuckled to herself and shook her head. A light rain fell as she breathed in the misty evening air. It was a lot of work, but these days it was safer to hide in plain sight.

  Ruling a city from the position of Police Chief was a much better way to go about things. She didn't have any know-it-all young men trying to find her weakness and take her city from her.

  She stepped up to the door of a beautifully extravagant house and rang the bell. Footfalls sounded and the door opened to reveal Sir Sabien Ash in his stunning maroon suit and that smile that looked charming and cavalier while also having that psychotic twinkle to it.

  “Sorry I'm late honey, work was murder.”

  Sabien’s grin widened knowingly and he nodded towards the box Chartreuse was carrying under one arm.

  “A gift for the host?”

  Chief Chartreuse handed him the box.

  “A set of beautiful knives that were hand crafted just for you. I melted the steel down myself yesterday.”

  Sabien's grin widened even further, and he broke into a laugh. “I shall treasure these always as a momentum of our time together.” 

_______________________________

Sart was murdered by the Rightful Rulers and was an innocent Democrat with a Mobile item.

Stink was interrogated and found to be an innocent Democrat with a Mobile item.

The Rightful Rulers have won the game!

Rightful Rulers

Police Headquarters

Thanks for playing everyone! :D

Spoiler

1.  ̶E̶l̶a̶n̶d̶e̶r̶a̶-̶ ̶R̶a̶v̶e̶n̶. vanilla Democrat

2. K̶i̶d̶p̶e̶n̶-̶ ̶D̶o̶c̶t̶o̶r̶ ̶D̶a̶n̶d̶e̶l̶i̶o̶n̶ vanilla Democrat
3. Mr Doctor- Sir Sabien vanilla Rightful Ruler
4. S̶h̶q̶u̶e̶e̶v̶e̶s̶-̶ ̶S̶e̶n̶õ̶r̶ ̶S̶h̶q̶u̶e̶e̶v̶e̶s̶ ̶ epic Democrat
5. Devotary of Spontaneity- Major Muave epic Rightful Ruler
6. Crimsn Wolf- Shaman Sky epic Democrat
7. I think I am here- Aristocrat Azure vanilla Democrat
8. Stink- Supreme Slovenly vanilla Democrat
9. Droughtbringer- Zär Zaffre vanilla Rightful Ruler
10. S̶n̶i̶p̶e̶x̶e̶-̶ ̶S̶a̶p̶p̶h̶i̶r̶e̶ ̶S̶n̶i̶p̶ epic Democrat
11. D̶e̶a̶t̶h̶C̶l̶u̶t̶c̶h̶1̶9̶-̶ ̶C̶o̶m̶m̶o̶d̶o̶r̶e̶ ̶C̶l̶u̶t̶c̶h̶ vanilla Democrat
12. Sart- Father Fuchsia vanilla Democrat
13. Megasif- Mega epic Rightful Ruler
14.  ̶X̶i̶n̶o̶e̶h̶p̶5̶1̶2̶-̶ ̶N̶a̶i̶d̶i̶r̶i̶v̶ vanilla Democrat
15. C̶a̶d̶m̶i̶u̶m̶ ̶C̶o̶m̶p̶o̶u̶n̶d̶e̶r̶-̶ ̶C̶o̶l̶o̶n̶e̶l̶ ̶K̶e̶t̶c̶h̶u̶p̶ ̶ epic Democrat
16. C̶o̶o̶p̶7̶7̶2̶-̶ ̶O̶s̶c̶a̶r̶ ̶O̶c̶e̶a̶n̶ vanilla Democrat
17. Gancho Libre- Bro Beige vanilla Democrat

It was all for the greater good.

Edited by BrightnessRadiant
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Good game everyone, and congratulations to the Rightful Rulers for escaping unscathed. This was a fun game! Thank you BR for GMing, and Lopen for co-GMing. There were a lot of fun mechanics.

I said it at the end of the dead/spec doc, but I'll say it again. Seriously @Mr Doctor? Again?! You need to stop being so good at being an elim. I had absolutely no suspicion of you once again. Honestly, the only one I had real suspicions of was Devotary.

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I had a gut reading of Mr. Doctor, that I thought about discussing in my analysis posts in the last cycle, but I disregarded it because last time he was an elim, no one really suspected him. So even though I had a nagging feeling, and an off read from some of his posts, I just said "naah, He's not gonna be elim again" Bummer. If I would have done that, I would have pegged 3 elims in my last cycle.

Also, Sorry Kidpen for keeping you with the Elim group. The evidence, in my opinion was pretty substantial, and based on the elim doc, I don't think they planned it that way. (granted I only skimmed it and I haven't finished yet. Normally I only search for my own name:P)

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12 minutes ago, Gancho Libre said:

That wasn't a very good game for me either... :)

On the contrary, I believe your actions are what gave the village their last chance of survival. Unfortunately, the village was not active enough to take advantage of that chance. 

Also, Kudos to megasif, Devotary, Drought, and Mr. Doc, to a well played game. You all did exceptional at avoiding suspicion. Drought had me 100% surprised, partially because I was only expecting a three elim team, with more powers on it.

Also, it may seem that my impending death is what sparked my analysis, but in reality, I had done quite a bit of analysis up to that point, I just couldn't justify any of my suspicions until the day I was poisoned. But I did do quite a bit more following the thread and analysis that cycle.

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1 hour ago, Megasif said:

Good game everyone. Well played elim team. A few people got suspicious of us and some of us got votes but I feel the village needed just a bit more presence and some elims definitely would've been lynched.

Also a big thanks to @BrightnessRadiantand the Co-GMs for hosting.

I think that the elims did a great job, but I do agree with this. The village could have caught on a lot more had they been paying more attention. :P

Also, in case no one noticed by now. I did set up events in the writeups that gave away hints of who could have done things and I'm glad no one noticed because I was trying to keep it low key so no one was outed by a writeup LOL.

Also, also, ....anyone notice by now that @Crimsn-Wolf was murdered in that last writeup? :ph34r: 

And @Gancho Libre you were invited to join the elims in the writeup because of poisoning CadCom LOL.

Edited by BrightnessRadiant
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