Quartz Zebra

My theories: Kangaroo - Honors Ghost for sure Albatross - Twinstorm Croc - KSOHS Heron - Kas Chameleon - Coder Dingo - Mistfallen Dragonfly - Divergent Axolotl - Mippo Gecko - Hoid Slayer Flamingo - TUM So long. Farewell. Adieu. Adieu. Adieu. Adieu. @Quartz Zebra signing off for the last time?

Aww, you should let us keep trolling for a while

I guess that is fair considering that this is only my second SE game

I would assume that everyone knows who I am at this point

Wow, what an ending!

You know, I don't really want to die. Toucan. Octopus

See! Wouldn't that make you want another lurcher? I was perfectly fine with it. It just meant the saboteurs have a lot of killing power. Or one of us is lying...

SUBJECT: EMERGENCY SHUTDOWN (Final Log of Engineer Finch) Finch lets out a long, weary sigh and sets her wrench down on the console for the last time. She doesn’t look at the mob; she looks at the ship’s vital signs, her expression one of grim acceptance. "Well, you did it. You finally pulled the emergency brake on the only person keepin' the hull together. I’m goin' to the scrap heap, but mark my words: when the lights flicker tonight and there’s no one to catch the coins headin' for the bridge, you’re gonna remember this moment. You’re gonna remember that you scrapped your Lurcher because you were too scared of a little noise in the vents. My flip’s gonna show you exactly what color my soul is—and it ain't Saboteur. @Taupe Gecko, I hope your logic is worth the hole you just put in our defense. To the rest of you: watch @Sunburst Toucan. I’m dyin' for that read, so you better make it count. Keep the engines runnin' if you can. But without an anchor, you’re just floatin' toward the deep dark. The wrench is down. The box is silent. Good luck, you rusted-out idiots. -(For the probably the final time) Finch

Alright then. Exe me. See how much closer to losing it gets you...

SUBJECT: RE: THE IDIOCY OF SCRAPPIN’ THE SHIELD You lot really are lookin' to sink this ship, aren't ya? You're talkin' about 'consolidatin' on me because you're scared of a Lurcher who knows how to hold their own? Listen to the math! If you execute me, you’re handin' the Coinshot a golden ticket to put a hole in Zense or yourself tonight. I’m the only one with a magnetic field strong enough to catch those projectiles! If you think I’m lyin’, then leave me be! If I’m an 'Elim-fake,' the Saboteurs will have to kill me themselves just to stop me from blockin' 'em. If I’m still standin' tomorrow, you’ve got a confirmed shield. If you scrap me now, you’re just clearin' the deck for the monsters. Y'all are makin' a mistake Stay safe, and don't touch my doodads -Finch

SUBJECT: Y'all are accusin' me?? H.E.A.R.T.H., you’ve got a real knack for reading the metadata, don’t ya? Looking at the ship’s logs like they’re a holy text. Was I online during the Day 2 rollover? No, that's been the one time I've gotten to sleep on this godforsaken ship! But here’s the thing about being an engineer: I don't go kickin' every pipe that rattles. I was on the Chiji train because the math seemed to lead there, and when I saw the Ophelia-clog starting to form, I shifted my wrench. I didn't jump into the "end-of-day madness" because when three different valves are bursting at once, the worst thing you can do is start turning handles at random. I stayed steady on my read. You call me "active but contributing little"? That’s 'cause I’m busy making sure the Lurcher-lines don't cross and blow us all to the Spiritual Realm! And also, what do you mean Echo? I'm the darned lurcher who saved Zense! If you’re lookin' for a monster, look for the ones who were changing their minds every five minutes to keep the tie alive. I picked my pipe and I stuck to it. Stay safe, and don't touch my doodads -Finch

SUBJECT: RE: PRIORITIES Listen, I know that Johnson looked like a burst steam pipe to everyone with eyes. It’s obvious, it’s loud, and it’s sprayin’ soot everywhere. But that’s the point—an obvious leak is easy to fix when the time comes. I shifted to Ophelia because she's is the kind of deep rust that survives the initial inspection and sinks the whole durn ship during a deep-space jump. If everyone already knows Johnson is a Saboteur, then he is a solved problem. But if we let a quiet threat like Ophelia slide into the later days just because they weren't the loudest rattle in the room, we’re as good as scrapped. I wanted to make sure the crew didn't forget that just because someone's "likely to make it later" doesn't mean they're Clean. In my engine room, we don't just fix the loudest clank; we fix the part that’s gonna fail when we're under the most pressure. Johnson wasn't goin' nowhere. But Ophelia? Ophelia tryin' to blend into the bulkheads. I’m keepin’ my wrench where it’s needed most for the long haul. Stay safe, and don't touch my doodads -Finch

SUBJECT: WHAT JUST HAPPENED?!?!?! Scrap it all! We just lost our Mistborn? Klin was one of the best regulators we had! That’s a massive leak in our hull, crew. We’re bleedin’ power and expertise now. And Zense? Someone tried to take a wrench to 'em in the dark! If the Saboteurs are gunnin' for Heron, it means Zense barkin' up the right tree. My Grumble-Gauge is pointin' straight at the shadows that moved while the Kiln was fallin'. I’m also backin’ the Security Chief on shuttin' down the PMs. If people were huddlin' in the dark to avoid the public log, they can do their talkin' right here in the bay now. No more "secret huddles" while the ship's on fire. I'm votin' Ophelia for now. While everyone was distractin' us with Chiji-gambits, the quiet ones let a Mistborn get scrapped. Time to see what's rattlin' inside that pipe. Stay safe, and don't touch my doodads -Finch

SUBJECT: RE-CALIBRATIN’ THE GEARS Finch wipes a streak of grease across her forehead, lookin’ up from the schematic with a look of intense concentration. Well, paint me copper and call me a conductor! I turn my back for one minute to tighten a manifold, and suddenly we got "ghosts" huddlin’ in the maintenance vents? Chiji, if there's really a "coordinated train" movin' through the PMs, then my Grumble-Gauge just hit the red-line. I ain't gonna be the heavy wrench that helps a "coordinated train" smash a crewmate into the scrap-heap—not until I see the math in the public thread. That’s just sloppy engineerin’. I’m reconsidering Chiji and switchin' back to Ophellia. Ophellia still actin’ like a clogged pipe, and I’d rather put pressure on a quiet leak than be a pawn in some PM-gambit. Consider this a system reboot while I wait for the air to clear on these "secret huddles." Stay safe and don't touch my doodads! -Finch

SUBJECT: FULL SYSTEM DIAGNOSTIC Alright, listen up! Since H.E.A.R.T.H. thinks I’m just polished brass and no gears, I’ve spent the morning checkin' every bolt and wire on this rust-bucket. Here’s how the "Parts" are lookin' from the engine room floor. The Defective Pile Chiji: This "Coinshot" claim is leakier than a screen-door submarine. They shouted it out just as the mob was gatherin’ with pitchforks. In my experience, if a part screams "I’m essential!" right before you toss it in the scrap, it’s usually lyin’. Johnson: Johnson, you’re spendin’ all your time polishin’ the hull while the engine’s on fire. Superficial analysis and "fluff" questions don’t catch Saboteurs. You’re actin’ like a distraction designed to keep us from lookin’ at the real leaks. Ophelia: Claimin' "Vanilla" as a strategy to stay quiet? That’s just called "hidin'." You’ve been switchin’ votes like a loose transmission, and I don’t trust a gear that won’t lock into place. The Sturdy Pile Levin: Proposin' the Kanga flip and survivin’ a Koloss-toss to the bulkhead? That’s some high-grade alloy. If Beagle’s a traitor, then this whole ship is already at the bottom of the ocean. H.E.A.R.T.H: You’re pushy, but you’re right to be. You’re lookin’ for the rattle, and you called me out for slacking. That’s the kind of maintenance this crew needs. Zense: Doin' the heavy liftin' and actin' as the party mentor. Even if you're a bit bossy, you're actually movin' the ship forward. The Questionable Parts Third of the Tide: I like that you did the homework on Beagle, but pullin' for an Octopus exe based on "weirdness" is a coin-toss. I'm keepin' an eye on your frequency. Kiln: You retracted that Octopus vote real fast when you realized the claim. Either you’re a cautious villager or a Saboteur who realized they were jumpin’ on a messy wagon too early. Frisk & Rane: You’re both makin’ noise, but I ain’t seen any spark yet. Don't make me use the mallet to see if you're hollow. I’m keepin’ my wrench pointed at Chiji today. Let’s see if that "Coin" they’re hidin’ is actually a Saboteur’s token. Stay safe, and don't touch my doodads! -Finch

SUBJECT: THAT DARNED LIST Well now, look at that! Arnold, you’ve gone and sorted us all into neat little bins like a fresh shipment of manifold gaskets. I gotta say, I appreciate the tidy work—it's rare to see a mind that organized when the ship’s hummin’ like a hornet’s nest. But mercy me, findin' my name in the "Maybe Elims" pile? I reckon my Grumble-Gauge just hit the red-line. I know I haven’t been the loudest wrench in the box, but that’s 'cause I’ve been busy lookin’ at the gears! While y'all were debatin' the merits of the Axol train, I was keepin' my eye on the "God-King" Adonalsium—and turns out, my gut was right about that leaky logic engine. I ain't a "Switch" or a "Silent Type." I’m just the girl in the overalls who’s real glad Levin is still breathin’ after last night’s ruckus. Wouln't it be weird if I was a Saboteur but spent all my time pointin' at the one guy who actually turned out to be a Traitor? That’d be some real poor plannin' on my part. I’m happy to stay on your "Watch List" for now, Arnold. Keeps me on my toes, and I like the company. But don't go throwin' out a perfectly good engineer just 'cause she smells like engine oil and doesn't talk in "Optimal Percentages." If you’re lookin' at Ophilia, just make sure you aren't missin' the rattle under the floorboards while you're lookin' at the paint. I’m keepin’ my vote flexible today while I listen to the vents. This ship’s got more leaks than a screen-door submarine, and I intend to find the next one. Stay safe, and for the love of the Core, DON'T TOUCH MY DOODADS! - Finch

SUBJECT: I SMELL BURNT COPPER AND RECKLESSNESS! Well, paint me copper and call me a conductor! Did y'all see that? The "Great Work" of our dear Adonalsium turned out to be nothin' but a Saboteur’s temper tantrum! My Grumble-Gauge was screamin’ about that fella for a reason—turns out he wasn't a god, just a leaky Rioter with a mask and a bad attitude. Wouln't it be weird if the folks shoutin' the loudest about "Retribution" were just the ones tryin' to hide the fact they were rippin' the bolts out of the hull? And mercy me, Levin (Oxblood Beagle)! You took a Koloss-sized toss to the bulkhead and you’re still standin’? You must be made of sturdier stuff than the SS TYRIAN’S own stabilizers. And Fletcher (Violet Axolotl) dodging a Coinshot? There was enough metal flyin' in those halls last night to start a scrap yard! I spent the Night shieldin’ my own ears from the ruckus, but it sounds like some folks were busy playin' "No Gods, No Masters" with a sword. Whoever put that piece of metal through the "God-King" deserves a fresh ration of oil and a pat on the back. We got one varmint out of the gearbox, but the Interim Captain's got us on lockdown. I’m stayin’ in my engine room, keepin' the Peeping-Ma-Bob tuned to the vibrations. Now that the smoke’s cleared on Adonalsium, I'm real curious to see who's lookin' shifty now that their "Sacrifice Play" went belly-up. Stay safe, and for the love of the Core, DON'T TOUCH MY DOODADS! - Finch

@Ivory Dragonfly SUBJECT: WELL, THANK THE CORES FOR OVERTIME! Well, bless my scrap-piles! Did I hear that right over the comm-chatter? We got us a Lurcher? A real-life, metal-tuggin’ hero right here in the gearbox? [Iif you’re really aimin' to anchor this crew, then you’re a braver soul than me. I was worried I’d have to start riggin' up some magnets and balin' wire to keep folks' auras from floatin' off into the Void, but if we got a professional on the job, I can get back to what matters. As for our new "Hero," I’m happy to let 'em have the spotlight. I’m just a simple girl with a complicated engine, and I’d much rather spend my Night shifts whisperin’ to the coolant vents than tryin’ to be a shield. You just keep that wrench of yours shiny, hero. I’ll be over here with my Peeping-Ma-Bob, listenin’ for the rattle. If the ship stays upright, I reckon I won't have to worry my little head about "protections" or "anchors" at all. I'll just keep fixin' what’s broken—startin' with this God-complex in the comms. Stay safe, and don’t touch my doodads! - Finch

Subject: A LITTLE TUNE FOR THE MUSICIAN (AND A BONE FOR THE HERON) Finch wipes a grease-stained hand on her jacket, looking over at the musician with a lopsided, knowing grin. "Well now, Zense! You want me to 'throw a bone' and give a better sense of what I’m seein'? Bless your heart, sugar, I’m an engineer, not a butcher, but I can hum a bar of what the engine is tellin' me." "I’m stickin’ my wrench right back on Adonalsium. You see a fella makin' patterns; I see a fella tryin’ real hard to be a counter-elim distraction. He’s throwin' up a smoke screen of 'thees' and 'thous' to lead the hounds away from the real varmints. Because a turbine that loud is usually just tryin' to hide a much bigger rattle somewhere else in the ship." "You asked for the 'outline,' Heron, so here it is: I poked him to see if he'd rattle, and he didn't just rattle—he exploded into a five-page manifesto. That ain't the hum of a regular crewmate; that’s the sound of someone who wants to be the center of the storm so we don't look at who’s actually breakin' the doodads. He’s lookin' real squeaky to my Grumble-Gauge, and I don't trade my trust for a song I didn't write myself." "I’m keepin’ my vote right there. I’d rather be a 'stubborn hound' than a bird who follows a vulture away from the nest. Does that tune sound right to your ears, Heron?" Stay safe, don't touch my doodads, and remember — Finch

Subject: PRESSURE TEST RESULTS: HIGH AND SQUEAKY "Bless your heart, Adonalsium! That’s a whole lot of 'thee' and 'thou' just to say your feelin's are hurt. You call it 'impertinence,' but in the engine room, we call it calibration. I poked ya to see if you’d hum like a balanced turbine, but instead, you went and rattled like a bucket of rusty nails fallin' down a stairwell." "You’re over here countin' everyone’s fingers and drawin' maps of who’s 'vulture-like,' but wouln't it be weird if I knew you were glad the Captain was gone before I even saw you mention the Bridge? Because you sound real comfortable steppin' into her boots for someone who claims they 'walked away.' My Peeping-Ma-Bob didn't see a 'Godly Personage'—it saw a fella who’s real good at usin' big words to hide a 'squeaky' aura." "You tell us to speak, then call us 'hounds' when we do. I reckon I’ll stick with my 'rotting bone' a bit longer. I don't trade my trust for a long speech, especially one that sounds like it was written by someone who thinks they're the only one on this ship with a pair of eyes. Until the Grumble-Gauge settles down, I’m keepin’ my vote right here on the fella with too many syllables and not enough hum." Stay safe, don't touch my doodads — Finch

Subject: A CLEANIN' IS A SABOTAGE BY ANOTHER NAME Bless your heart, Arnold! You're over here scrubbin' the life right out of this engine like you're fixin' to eat off the coolant lines! I reckon you think you're doin' a 'neat' job, but you've gone and committed a tragedy. Every one of those buttons was holdin' a memory that kept the Grumble-Gauge from turnin' into a Scream-Meter. And what about the dust bunnies? Those weren't just dirt; they were the ship's way of growin' a bit of fur to keep warm! Now the vents are lookin' all naked and shivering. Wouln't it be weird if I knew you were clearin' the floors just so you could hear my Peeping-Ma-Bob trundlin' toward you before I even let him loose? Because a clean floor is just a 'Tattletale-Tracker' for anyone tryin' to stay quiet. I reckon an obsessive neatness is just a clever way to hide your sabotage-boots. You're wipin' away the history of this ship so we can't see who's been breakin' the doodads! I'm tradin' my trust for a healthy dose of suspicion until you find me a button with at least four holes and a sincere melodic vibration. Stay safe, don't touch my doodads (or my dust bunnies) — Finch

Finch sends another message to the crew Subject: I think that we've got some weird shoes on this ship Hey y'all! I was just sittin' here tradin' a rusty bolt for a piece of peppermint gum I found in my pocket—engine’s breath is much fresher now, by the by—when I sent the Peeping-Ma-Bob for a little stroll down the hallway. If it finds anythin' besides dust bunnies and lost buttons, y'all will be the first to know. Well actually I'll know before you, consideren' that I have to see it before I can tell you. Wouln't it be weird if you knew before I knew but I still told you? That’d be some kind of spooky psychic magic, and I ain't traded for a crystal ball lately. But anyways, my Peeping-Ma-Bob went for a little stroll down the hallway. Wait, I already said that. Anyways it saw some weird lookin' shoes on Adonalnasium Storming Reborn and the little guy said they were suspicious. I don't know what the little guy's on, but that's what he said. Oh also the clackwidget in the engine is only running at 40% sparkle capacity :( Stay safe, and don't touch my doodads! — Finch

Finch logs on to her awakened tablet and sends a message to the crew. Subject: Engineering Update: Safety First (and maybe Second) Hey everyone! Just a quick update from the Engine Room. I know some of you are getting a bit jumpy with all the "who's the killer" talk in the halls, but I’ve been busy making sure the ship doesn’t actually blow up while we're arguing. I found this really shiny brass coupler-thingy on the main manifold today. It looked way too heavy for that pipe, so I did a bit of fair trade! I swapped it out for my lucky copper button. Honestly, the engine sounds way more... fashionable now. With the spare parts, I’ve finished my latest invention: the Peeping-Ma-Bob! It’s got a little lens, some spindly legs I made from old screwdrivers, and a very reliable "go-that-way" sensor. I've sent it around the ship, so that nobody else dies. Unless the battery dies. In which case we might all die. Actually never mind. Don't mind me. I'm just going on again. You know, I've actually noticed that we have some weird people on this ship. I hope I'm not one of them. Oh! I also told it to grade all of y'alls shoes! If the little box bumps into you, don't kick it! It's just me checking to see if you're doing sneaky evil stuff or just regular boring person stuff. It might also stare at your shoes. Don't mind it. I figure if I stay in here and keep the lights on, maybe I won't be the one who'll die next. Stay safe and don't touch my doodads! — Finch

NOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Hurray! Scorp can retire happily! Thanks for running this, GMs! And again, congrats to the elim team on a game well played! And I guess to the village for getting there despite ourselves!

You're telling me we got through an ENTIRE game and NO ONE won an Oops Award? What an excellent consolation prize!! There's still time. Anyway, under the circumstances, this was incredible elim play! Because of the tables? Because of all the pretty tables!