Mint Heron

got ninjaed by ele so we ball. not gonna keep these things in rp cbf am tired & ts takes effort argue with a wall bold mine for emphasis. someone help me out has DF addressed this. if not DF can u address this. do u feel u found something. feels a bit "you treat me badly I treat you badly." neutral on ascribing an alignment to this, if really forced to i feel a bit ehhhh b/c my instinctive read is DF felt they found a tell and framed it that way & it's curious to me that's not ocho's instinctive read b/c I think v tends to be a bit more excited about these things. but subsequent from octo i like better (i will get back to this.) can be hepful, can be low effort. not clear, just something that popped in mind. very slight here. y'know what sure melon dingo ok fair. maybe im too uncharitable to ocho myself. i still find it ?, am not sure about kanga's opening, but bolded is kind of good imo, at least there's some kind of attentiveness there. this is the thing i flagged as liking wrt ocho. i think this is a good wariness to have especially v. early in the thread and it feels slightly proactive/with fog-of-war. i don't agree with ocho's hypothesis but just...yeah screw it kinda wanna just v lean for now. i love this mfer 20/10 no notes carry on fair observations at some point im gonna end up sussing way too many people for weird drek but we ball this is what happens when u cannot make allowances + not the point of this sort of set-up but dear lord why and yeah i do not like this why fair enough but need to make sure weasel does as promised ohhhhh i also like this guy. i don't have enough energy/SAN to see zebra rn but this is a reminder to myself to go back and check later when i can actually parse their language (not on u zebra, is on me i tired but i understand what u r doin.) [zebra claims to have pressure voted croc then doesn't like croc's response feeling it's a bit too defensive. not enough brain, want to finish thread.] what, directly is ur conclusion. how do u feel about violet axl (ok honestly cannot make it further through thread, will come back later.)

"Zense!" The second lieutenant called. 'Twas Maddens on duty today. Probably wasn't his real name, but Zense called him 'Maddens' because he was maddening in his scrulpousness, to the detriment of the pursuit of Art(TM.) Probably had something petty in mind again, whether it was asking Zense to go play some music to entertain the fools down on the Fourth Engineering deck—personally, Zense had taken a particular dislike to Fourth Engineering; they had no taste in music whatsoever and often asked him to play the rudest, most bawdy songs in his repertoire, the sort of crem you'd find in the tavernas and cantinas of Old Roshar where the veterans lurked. Rusting ship, Zense thought. No appreciation for art at all. Join the SS Tyrian, they said, get paid and get free meals and lodging they said, and all you had to do was play music they said, except half the storming ship had no appreciation for his art whatsoever and the other half (he included Maddens and the steward from the Cargo Deck in it) seemed wont to get in his face and squander his time on general suspicion of itinerant musicians. "Zense!" Maddens called. Zense plucked at the strings on his baliset, trying to get them into tune. There was something, just something, that wasn't particularly right about the ninth string; the note jarred to his trained ear, and he adjusted it, bit by bit. Would've been easier if he had enough Breath to acquire perfect pitch, but the universe wasn't kind to an itinerant musician, and the Art(TM) didn't abide shortcuts. "Harmony damn it, Zense!" Maddens finally found him. Hands on his hips, Maddens glowered down at him. "God Beyond help me, I swear you think your job is to sit there plucking that thing on your own without actually doing any work on the ship." Zense didn't pause in his adjustments. "I am hired to grace this ship with my art—" "Yeah, well, we need you on Passenger Deck 3A," Maddens informed him. "Urgently. The captain has been murdered and we fear the passengers are planning to take matters into their own hands." Zense stared at him. "Zense," Maddens began, exasperated. "So what, exactly, do you want me to do about it?" Zense asked, picking out a simple tune. "I am but a humble musician, the SS Tyrian's greatest gift—" "—Play them some damn music!" Maddens snapped. "Anything, Zense! Something simple, something calming, rust it, play them a rusting shepherd's lullaby from Shinovar for all the dreks I give, just go play to them so they don't turn into a mob and murder half the rusting ship!" Zense sighed. Simple it was. There were rustic songs from the cabins of Threnody; hushed, lulled affairs written in fear of the shadows. Buccolic shepherd's songs from Shinovar. Simple offering songs from Nalthis, honouring the day's catch, thanking the gods. An austere Austrean chant from the mountains of the same world. All of them simple. An actual insult to his God-given talent. This storming ship. Absolutely no respect for Art(TM) or the constraints he was forced to labour under, or the stupidity he was forced to deal with on a daily basis. "Fine, Maddens," he ground out. He supposed if Maddens was this tight about it, something was wrong. Maybe they really would murder half the storming ship after all. "I'm going."

Red for Falcon. And Green for Vulture I think Blue is for Lion.

oopsie

Judging by the silence, Heron thinks people are scared to place their bets, so he'll start. Amethyst Scorpion Pearl Chameleon Really not sure for Table Tennis. I guess Heron will go for Dragonfly.

tHeron hVulture eGorilla

Violet Axolotl

Spurred by his recent 3rd place finish in the Beam, Stephen [Mint Heron] was inspired to compete in more events. He had an injured teammate, he was supposed to back them up anyway. As he powdered his palms, he could feel the enthusiasm and encouragement of the arena seep through him. He wasn't as pessimistic as before, he had a good feeling about this one. Elsewhere, it seemed like Cream Tuatara would see a unanimous success in swimming events, the likes we haven't seen since the times of Katie Ledecky.

"Stephen! You're up for the Beam. Now!" It’s when his name is called, that his brain shifts into focus and the situation fully sinks in. He blinks rapidly, trying to absorb the situation. His teammate—who was supposed to be on the Balance Beam—had just suffered an unfortunate injury during their vault run, and now, Stephen was the one stepping in. Balance Beam. Really? He could barely suppress a laugh, he had never been good on the Beam. It was not his event. It was not even close to his event. He looked at his coach, who gives him an encouraging nod. “You’ve got this, Stephen. Trust yourself. Don’t look. Just move.” Don’t look? That’s the last thing he heard before stepping out onto the floor, a soft hush of the crowd reaching his ears. The wooden beam looked impossibly narrow, as if mocking his vision or the lack thereof. Stay calm and do not look, he reminds himself, taking the first slow step. The rest of it was a blur. This wasn’t about perfection. It was about survival. As soon as it began, it was done. The arena erupts in applause as Stephen stood there, uncertain if the cheers are for him or someone else. But he doesn’t care. He was done with this nightmare. When the final scores are posted, the shock hit him like a wave. Bronze medal. He blinks. Bronze. He didn’t know how it happened, but it felt like maybe he’s more than just the Pommel Horse guy. Maybe he’s a gymnast in more ways than one. “Not bad for a guy who never thought he'd get on the Beam at the Olympics,” he whispers to himself.

Stephen Ned winning yet another bronze medal is mildly funny. The body roleplaying as Snoop Dogg getting disqualified for drug usage is hilarious.

Pearl Chameleon Cream Tuatara

Stephen leans against the wall, glancing up at the screen that broadcasts the Balance Beam competition. Coral Swan. There’s no doubt in his mind. They're the one to watch. He had seen their practices before and knew their routine was nothing short of a masterpiece—precision in every move that couldn’t be ignored. No one else had the same presence on the beam as they did. “I bet Coral’s got this in the bag,” he mutters to himself, then looks over his shoulder as his coach approaches. “Ready, Stephen?” the coach asks, voice full of confidence. “Definitely. But Coral’s going to take the Beam. No doubt about it.” Stephen grins. His coach chuckles. “Fair enough. But don’t you forget, it’s your turn soon. You’ve got this too.” Coral’s routine begins on the screen. Stephen watches closely, admiring the flow of their movements—each turn, each slight adjustment. The crowd erupts in cheers as they sticks the landing. It’s flawless. “Yep,” Stephen whispers, “I knew it.” “Time to shine,” he mutters, readying himself for the Pommel Horse, where he’ll make his own mark.

Stephen Ned wasn’t exactly what you’d call a typical gymnast. In fact, he had realized that pretty early in his career. Born with visual impairments, depth perception was a tricky thing for him, as was his sensitivity towards light. It wasn’t ideal for a sport that demanded perfect timing and awareness. He discovered this the hard way - finding himself average, at best, in almost every event. He could manage a vault, sure. But that wasn’t his thing. Floor routines? More like floor disasters. His balance was shaky. Rings? Forget it. He wasn’t even sure where the rings were half the time. But then… the Horse. It wasn’t like the other events. Somehow, despite everything, the Horse clicked. Something about it felt right. It was his sweet spot. He’d discovered, almost accidentally, that his unique set of challenges made him a natural at swinging, rotating, and twisting his way through the routine, with what could only be described as a strange, raw beauty. Soon enough, he was the Pommel Horse Guy, the Gymnast with Glasses. His country’s and possibly, the world’s first Pommel Horse specialist, sitting with a Rubik’s Cube in his hands and awaiting his turn.

Anything I say probably sounds weak because I could obviously be faking, and I’m not a skilled enough player to analyze role distribution which would probably be my best explanation, but here you go. I think me voting for Hayden is a sign of my innocent. I thought he was guilty, if I was an elim I would never have aggressively pushed to kill a lurcher. It would have been far safer to just wait and kill him in the night. I will note that Dragonfly initially defended Tuatara, but later jumped on the train to kill him. Do what you want with my thoughts.

Changing your vote changed it from 5-4 to 4-5. What consolidation?

No, That was Acks defending Byrar to strengthen the train on Kael. I do not have a vote manipulation power, just one that prevents my vote from being manipulated.

I guess that wouldn’t have been credible, yeah. You could have used PMs, but that’s not quite as public. Fair enough, I just wish there had actually been a seeker who could check me out dragonfly and figure things out.

My reads have repeatedly proven to be inaccurate. There have been enough people who seem to agree that it’s me or dragonfly. Plus, it simplifies things to flip one of us sooner rather than later. If Nibbles were to ask the other Smoker what alignment you are, what would they say? Not what dragonfly thinks of me, but I’m confused why Dingo only tested my smokescreen by claiming seeker, instead of me and dragonfly

You decided to test me, do you have actual evidence for Dragonfly? because if everyone thinks that one smoker is innocent and one is guilty, then obviously I'll have to vote Sew, although I don't have any reason other than balance logic given by others.

Byrar had gone to bed tired and woken to accusations. It seemed the entire town thought he was a killer. But this didn’t make any sense. He had turned off his coppercloud. They should know that he was innocent.

For a drunk, Acks seems to be putting in a lot of work to help the village. Byrar didn’t like how Sew had felt forced to vote against him to save herself. He knows that as things stand, one of them will probably die.However, he could change that. He also wanted to point out that if she thought him innocent, then she could vote for the towns other suspicion. Keal Voss (ostrich). Yesterday, he and Sew and killed an innocent by ignoring the council they had received. Maybe they could make things right today. @Ivory Dragonfly

I can only change to smoke someone else in the night. The only person I smoked was myself, as I didn’t trust anyone very much. I’m still only smoking myself.

As someone who also voted for Tuatara, I can understand Dragonfly’s vote. I can understand the suspicion, but I think that this has been one of the trickiest games for figuring out who’s guilty. I got confused, and I think Dragonfly might have as well. I’m more suspicious on how many people are jumping on Dragonfly. Swan and Ostrich feel like they’re trying to get Sew killed while also staying neutral. Swan was suspicious in on D1 and has avoided attention since. Realistically though, I argued against the majority yesterday and was wrong, so I’m not too upset if you don’t agree EDIT: forgot to add, I wanted to point out, Dragonfly was the one to point out that Tautara was a lurcher. Why would an elim do that? It would have been way easier to stay quiet and let the town continue to accuse Hayden.

I have been confused by your logic this entire game. are you saying that you think me and dragonfly are guilty because we are smokers, or you think we’re guilty and we are smokers? Byrar’s lungs are fine, if that’s what you’re implying (aside from ash inhalation due to the weather of his planet.)