This is not a last-ditch effort to stomp discussion. I'm shaking right now.
I seriously don't know what to think
I don't think this game is over or the scum would be celebrating. Something is wrong
The thought had crossed my mind before that there might be a third party because there were 17 players. With 16 players I expect 4 scum. What if there were 3 scum and 1 third party? I'm sorry if you are town Jey, but chin up, it might not be over yet. It says "You win when all of the conspirators have been put to death."
This is taken directly from the sign up thread: "This is a Normal game (and low complexity at that) for 16* players. This makes it a good place for any newer or rusty returning players looking to test their mettle in a larger game than a Basic. It has been reviewed by Silvercrys and Megiddo."
This description makes me thing a neutral or 3 person scum team is super unlikely.
With so few in such a big hall, raised bounce and echo off the walls: instead of drowning each other out, each stands out alone. Or they would, but the stragglers are simply too tired, worn down to shout. There is simply no room for new arguments, everything has been said before, and everything boils down to the fundamental core of “not I - he”.
Rodemy and tomsloger take centre stage and lock horns. Each bets his life, the life of the kingdom, on the other. The back and forth is unenlightening, and the onlookers cannot reach a decision.
On the verge of flipping a coin, Shadowlancer rises to his feet and points a single, ominous finger at JeY k and intones “Them”.
All Eyes swivel towards JeY k, and she can only muster denial. Over and over, she denies her place in the conspiracy, denies her hatred of the king, and denies murder upon murder. The quartet closes around her. The noose slides smoothly around her neck, and her denials run dry.
She whispers one last word.
“Please.”
The snap of her neck echoes around the chamber, but the pure futility lingers beyond. JeY k has been lynched. She was Gareth, Legendary Bearer of the Most Gnarly Hangover - Town Vanilla.
Gareth, Legendary Bearer of the Most Gnarly Hangover - Town Vanilla
Dimly, you recall yourself as you were. Young, naive, full of hope and a sense of adventure. This party was a heaven-sent - all the wine and women you could have dreamed of. You and your gaggle of friends geared up for a once in a lifetime occasion. They were all gone now. Replaced by a single, continuous sledgehammer blow of a hangover.
You make a noise between a cough and hiccup. The memories of the night have blurred, but the flow of booze sits constant over it. “How much?” was simply too small a question. It crept up you slowly to start off with, settling on your shoulders like someone very fat and very smelly. You realised that you had gone through. To the other side. Debauchery giving way to punishment from a vengeful god.
You never asked to be chosen. A bitter, faded smile. No-one ever asks to be chosen.
You feel like something crawled down your throat and died, and was subsequently reanimated. You feel like someone is hammering hundreds of tiny horseshoes into your brain. You’ve never seen so many full buckets.
You entered this party a boy, but you have been cursed with the heaviest of burdens. The most gnarly hangover known to man.
“At last!” he calls, clear and strong, cutting through the torpor that surrounds JeY k’s corpse. He reaches into his robe and pulls out a scroll. Breaking the seal, he unrolls it. At the top, it says “Victory Speech”. With glee, he begins:
“When I was young, my mother qwas busy being queen, so I had a nurse who raised me. She was fond of figures of speech and had many phrases: ‘Waste Not Want Not!’, ‘Don’t Count Your Chickens Before They Hatch!’, ‘Time is Money!’, ‘Wait, What Are You Doing With That Sword?’ and ‘Oh God, The Agony!’. But one I remember most distinctly was ‘Don’t Play With Your Food!’. So we shall not.”
A flash of blades, and the final conspiracy is revealed:
Rodemy - Reginald, The Crazy Old Man who Thinks he is a Goat - Town Vanilla and Shadowlancerx - Sir Roysten the Handsome - Town Vanilla slump to the floor. As their lifeblood leaks away, they look up and know with terrible finality: they have failed.
Above them, tomsloger - Salazina Salazorn - Mafia Goon and TheRealStinkyJoeTerry - William Black, the King’s Houndmaster - Mafia Backup wipe their blades in triumph. Maldorvo approaches them. He grasps TheRealStinkyJoeTerry’s in a firm, solemn handshake, before turning to tomsloger and pulling her into a steamy embrace.
Breaking away, he turns to Ecophagy, the Chief Justice of the realm. Great guardian of the laws and tradition of the ancient kingdom of Sonasland.
“Well then old man, you have overseen the destruction of the new ways, and the old ways will return with fire, brimstone, and austerity economics! Your honour and loyalty to my brother have come to naught. What have you to say?”
Ecophagy pauses and looks around the room. He sees the freshly made corpses, murder committed in broad daylight. He sees the slicks of dry blood around the chamber. He sees the nooses, the mistakes. A great weight settles upon his shoulders and he intones:
“Long Live The King. His Royal Highness Maldorvo, First of His Name.”
Reginald, the Goat - Vanilla Town
Being a goat, you don’t get invited to many parties. You don’t mind so much - nothing beats a good chew on the cud and as you like to say the only way you get a decent conversation is by talking to yourself.
Still, you’re not one to turn down an opportunity to bite new things, and this evening has delivered in spades. There’s the food, which is wonderfully unguarded, there’s the wine-soaked straw throughout the hall, and plenty of unwary people You even seem to have made some new friends with whom you happily talk about different grass flavours. Some of them are even drunk enough to find it genuinely fascinating.
Mod Note: Yes, you are a goat. Yes, you can speak English and post normally with no restriction.
++++ Super Secret Mod Note: Actual role name is “Reginald, the Crazy Old Man who Thinks He’s a Goat”, which will be revealed on death.
Sir Roysten the Handsome - Vanilla Town
Coming from a long line of knights, your life was always destined to follow a certain course. A squire in training, a knight errant searching for adventure, winning your spurs in battle, eventually taking over your father’s lands and title. Only, you were never that interested in the fighting. You were good enough, but unmotivated.
What you did learn is that a knight’s life is more than just martial skill. There’s show to it, a pageantry. Wooing maidens, taking on dramatic rather than useful quests, ensuring songs are flattering. Losing a joust with bravery and the right amount of bruising can result in more sympathy and renown than a ruthlessly efficient win. Having perfectly broad shoulders, a chiseled jaw, fine high cheekbones, and deep, soulful blue eyes doesn’t hurt of course.
It happened slowly, but your reputation of valour and chivalry (and handsomeness) outstripped any combat prowess you possessed. People not only knew your name, but chanted it and treated you like a god. Maidens would faint at the mere thought of being presented with a rose. In time, you barely even had to do any knightly deeds at all - the weight of reputation and strong PR management alone was enough to keep you in the spotlight.
Salazina Salazorn - Mafia Goon
You sit elegantly at a corner table, trying not to actually touch any of the furniture. You carefully wipe the table with the end of your exquisite silk scarf, but only manage to spread the dirt more evenly across the surface. The bangles on your arm clink and sparkle as you move, but thankfully the sound can’t be heard over the din. You think longingly of your room at the inn.
Once this night is over you’re going to bury your head in a chest of satin and inhale that beautiful cinnamon scent forever. You are not totally sure that that will be long enough to rid you of the stench of ale and sick.
Gods, why do foreigners love ale so much? And why are they so loud? You slide back a little further into the corner, avoiding some particularly rowdy drunks. You really would rather not have to kill anyone: it makes it much harder to sell them things (although not impossible). You just have to make it through tonight and then if everything goes to plan you can sprint back to your ships with your ears intact and a very lucrative trade bargain into the agreement. Funding this usurping is a tiny down payment for what you stand to gain.
You lick your voluptuous lips at the thought. Sole access to trade routes, prime real estate, primary licenses for any good that exists (and some that don't). The way the idiot Maldorvo stares at you, you know you will be able to squeeze him for as much as this backwater kingdom is worth.
You're going to make an absolute killing.
William Black, King’s Houndmaster - Mafia Backup
You reach down one gloved hand and slowly stroke the dog’s sleek head. It’s ears are back, its lips curled, its whole body vibrates with the strength of its growl.
“Good girl” you mutter, “Now…kill!”. The dog surges forward, its powerful back legs making it soar until it bounces harmlessly off your servant’s boot.
The pug lets out an ‘arf’ of annoyance and wiggles furiously, trying to get upright. You sigh. Not that long ago you trained sleek, muscled, borderline-psychotic hunting beasts. You were renowned across the land for the strength and blood-lust of your hounds. Your arms bear the scars of many teeth and claws. You walked around town with an asteroid belt of slavering beasts obediently circling you. You commanded respect. You demanded it.
That is, until the new king took an interest in your work. ‘Why do they have to be so violent?’ he asked. ‘Why can’t they be fluffier?’. He introduced you to pugs as if he thought you would be grateful. As if it was something to keep you occupied in your old age. You regard the pug, who seems to have fallen asleep, snoring gently on its back. You light a cigarette. You’re getting too old for this.
It was then that the king’s brother approached you with a plan. The younger brother. The younger, vicious brother. The younger, vicious brother with a love of hunting. You can almost hear the hounds baying already.
Abilities: Old Dog, New Tricks: When your co-conspirator Sideshow Vincent, the Mafia Watcher, dies, you gain the following one shot ability:
The Most Dangerous Game (One Shot): At Night you may choose a player. You will gain a copy of that player’s role PM with any other player names in it redacted.
The game has ended in a Mafia Victory! Congratulations to tomsloger, TheRealStinkyJoeTerry, LnGRrrrR, and Tubba Fett! Commiserations to the Town and more widely, the people of Sonasland, who are in for a torrid time.
Special thanks also for TRSJT, AskThePizzaGuy, and Grapefruit21 for replacing in. The latter two especially for dying almost immediately afterwards.
Full setup, chats, Night actions, awards, and thoughts on the setup and game to follow.
Can we be even now? I was really bummed about how you beat me in Silence and kind of wanted to troll you just because of that. Then Jey K started to get wound up and I felt bad.
Tom felt weird to me all game but I couldn't get an accurate ping. I never would've caught Tom.
Edit: "If Killjoy is town, Tom must be scum" Someone even brought that back up to me (Rodemy, maybe?) and I just... I don't know why I didn't follow through on this either. I was confident on that one too, when I first said it, but I just... didn't pay attention to myself.
I'm so mad that I knew EternalLurker was scum since the very beginning.
Can we be even now? I was really bummed about how you beat me in Silence and kind of wanted to troll you just because of that. Then Jey K started to get wound up and I felt bad.
Thanks ECO!
well, you already had Avalon on me, so now I have to wreck you as scum again.
I really want to see the scum chat where I start laying in hard on the scum team but get steamrolled because my ability to type is equivalent to a fish out of water on a keyboard.
KoolKoal: Feel free to take this with a grain of salt since self meta isn't particularly helpful, but I think I get scumread mostly for style over substance, but also for a certain lack of substance over style. It's not so much what I AM posting most of the time (though sometimes that can seem bad) but what I'm NOT posting. I've been told I come to non-obvious conclusions a lot, so when I post, quite a bit of the time there's jumps in logic that people can't follow and they think that's scummy. I get that accusation about a lot of questions I ask specifically. People call them "busy work" when the questions are legit etc.
As far as things to ignore, I can't think of anything. I would suggest you focus less on what I'm doing and more on how I'm doing it. That's probably more likely to be accurate. Like I've just said, what I do tends to come off a little weird, but if you look for how I do it, mindset comes into play and maybe you figure out something useful.
Can we be even now? I was really bummed about how you beat me in Silence and kind of wanted to troll you just because of that. Then Jey K started to get wound up and I felt bad.
Thanks ECO!
well, you already had Avalon on me, so now I have to wreck you as scum again.
Did I fool you in LyLo there? I forget. I know Silence was on me and you had me fooled hard. Vice versa this game.
EternalLurker was so into his character he even actually believed my posts were "contradiction-riddled". Like what the heck? He didn't even make any sense when he was claiming that in the thread. God that's infuriating. I hate this game.
Edit: "Hasn't had good reads" "is tunnelled on me" BECAUSE YOU WERE SCUM WHAT ABOUT THAT ISN'T A GOOD READ
Phew, this game turned out way closer than I thought! JeyK, I was hoping we'd knock you off Day 2 but you stubbornly stuck around, so I figured I'd reverse course and try to make as many dichotomies with my scumbuddies as I could. All criticism is welcome! Pizza was the MVP for the town I think... he injected a lot of life and was pretty dead-on for most of his reads. Lurker for MVP on our team I think; he pretty much secured a townlock early.
Instead of boring MVPs, here are some more imaginative awards!
Oh No, Not Again - This goes to Rhand for rolling a super cool Town power role and getting immediately murdered on Night 1. Just like in Apocalypse. The trophy for this award is a bowl of petunias.
Super Sub - Goes to AskThePizzaGuy, for his whirlwind contribution of replacing in to a middling slot, making a billion posts, lynching scum, and then - leaving us as quickly as he arrived - being Night Killed. Top drawer replacement skills. Dishonourable mention goes to Cantripmancer for coming in and going out quickly, but without doing anything in between.
Closest Guess - Shared between ATPG and Rodemy. The former for being the closest at giving me 3/4 of the scum on one team, and the latter for being the only player - alive or dead - to call the final pair as TRSJT and tom (which he sadly got talked out of). No-one gave me all four correct names. Shadowlancer get the Shotgun Approach honorary mention for giving me the most guesses, most of which were completely wrong.
Best Newcomer - Tubba Fett, for walking into the baptism of fire that is playing your first game as scum and giving a very credible outing. Even though he was the first scum down, he played solidly for someone new to the game. Hope to see more of him arounf!
Balls Of Steel - Goes to Toastboy for holding a Daykill longer than anyone thought was possible. Especially in the face of being a likely NK at any moment!
Most Nicknames/Hardest to spell - Shared between JeY k and LnGrrrR, who picked up three each: Jey, Jeyk, jey; and Lngrrr, Lingerer, LnGrrrrR .
Captain America "I got that reference award" - Nominations are still open, but LnGrrrR is currently leading the pack in references he told me that he got.
I seriously don't know what to think
I don't think this game is over or the scum would be celebrating. Something is wrong
¤.†.¤ The OceanLink ¤.†.¤
kill Rodemy tomorrow, guys.
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¤.†.¤ The OceanLink ¤.†.¤
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I'm town. Either the two scum are laughing at my expense or the game isn't over.
¤.†.¤ The OceanLink ¤.†.¤
¤.†.¤ The OceanLink ¤.†.¤
"This is a Normal game (and low complexity at that) for 16* players. This makes it a good place for any newer or rusty returning players looking to test their mettle in a larger game than a Basic. It has been reviewed by Silvercrys and Megiddo."
This description makes me thing a neutral or 3 person scum team is super unlikely.
¤.†.¤ The OceanLink ¤.†.¤
****
THERE ARE 3 SCUM.
Tom.
I wanna quote this hahaha
Same ._.
FFS This is agonizing
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JeY k - 3 (shadowlancerx, Rodemy, TheRealStinkyJoeTerry)
Rodemy - 2 (tomsloger, JeY k)
Not Voting - 0
With 5 alive, it took 3 votes to lynch
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
With so few in such a big hall, raised bounce and echo off the walls: instead of drowning each other out, each stands out alone. Or they would, but the stragglers are simply too tired, worn down to shout. There is simply no room for new arguments, everything has been said before, and everything boils down to the fundamental core of “not I - he”.
Rodemy and tomsloger take centre stage and lock horns. Each bets his life, the life of the kingdom, on the other. The back and forth is unenlightening, and the onlookers cannot reach a decision.
On the verge of flipping a coin, Shadowlancer rises to his feet and points a single, ominous finger at JeY k and intones “Them”.
All Eyes swivel towards JeY k, and she can only muster denial. Over and over, she denies her place in the conspiracy, denies her hatred of the king, and denies murder upon murder. The quartet closes around her. The noose slides smoothly around her neck, and her denials run dry.
She whispers one last word.
“Please.”
The snap of her neck echoes around the chamber, but the pure futility lingers beyond. JeY k has been lynched. She was Gareth, Legendary Bearer of the Most Gnarly Hangover - Town Vanilla.
Gareth, Legendary Bearer of the Most Gnarly Hangover - Town Vanilla
Dimly, you recall yourself as you were. Young, naive, full of hope and a sense of adventure. This party was a heaven-sent - all the wine and women you could have dreamed of. You and your gaggle of friends geared up for a once in a lifetime occasion. They were all gone now. Replaced by a single, continuous sledgehammer blow of a hangover.
You make a noise between a cough and hiccup. The memories of the night have blurred, but the flow of booze sits constant over it. “How much?” was simply too small a question. It crept up you slowly to start off with, settling on your shoulders like someone very fat and very smelly. You realised that you had gone through. To the other side. Debauchery giving way to punishment from a vengeful god.
You never asked to be chosen. A bitter, faded smile. No-one ever asks to be chosen.
You feel like something crawled down your throat and died, and was subsequently reanimated. You feel like someone is hammering hundreds of tiny horseshoes into your brain. You’ve never seen so many full buckets.
You entered this party a boy, but you have been cursed with the heaviest of burdens. The most gnarly hangover known to man.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Maldorvo stands.
“At last!” he calls, clear and strong, cutting through the torpor that surrounds JeY k’s corpse. He reaches into his robe and pulls out a scroll. Breaking the seal, he unrolls it. At the top, it says “Victory Speech”. With glee, he begins:
“When I was young, my mother qwas busy being queen, so I had a nurse who raised me. She was fond of figures of speech and had many phrases: ‘Waste Not Want Not!’, ‘Don’t Count Your Chickens Before They Hatch!’, ‘Time is Money!’, ‘Wait, What Are You Doing With That Sword?’ and ‘Oh God, The Agony!’. But one I remember most distinctly was ‘Don’t Play With Your Food!’. So we shall not.”
A flash of blades, and the final conspiracy is revealed:
Rodemy - Reginald, The Crazy Old Man who Thinks he is a Goat - Town Vanilla and Shadowlancerx - Sir Roysten the Handsome - Town Vanilla slump to the floor. As their lifeblood leaks away, they look up and know with terrible finality: they have failed.
Above them, tomsloger - Salazina Salazorn - Mafia Goon and TheRealStinkyJoeTerry - William Black, the King’s Houndmaster - Mafia Backup wipe their blades in triumph. Maldorvo approaches them. He grasps TheRealStinkyJoeTerry’s in a firm, solemn handshake, before turning to tomsloger and pulling her into a steamy embrace.
Breaking away, he turns to Ecophagy, the Chief Justice of the realm. Great guardian of the laws and tradition of the ancient kingdom of Sonasland.
“Well then old man, you have overseen the destruction of the new ways, and the old ways will return with fire, brimstone, and austerity economics! Your honour and loyalty to my brother have come to naught. What have you to say?”
Ecophagy pauses and looks around the room. He sees the freshly made corpses, murder committed in broad daylight. He sees the slicks of dry blood around the chamber. He sees the nooses, the mistakes. A great weight settles upon his shoulders and he intones:
“Long Live The King. His Royal Highness Maldorvo, First of His Name.”
Being a goat, you don’t get invited to many parties. You don’t mind so much - nothing beats a good chew on the cud and as you like to say the only way you get a decent conversation is by talking to yourself.
Still, you’re not one to turn down an opportunity to bite new things, and this evening has delivered in spades. There’s the food, which is wonderfully unguarded, there’s the wine-soaked straw throughout the hall, and plenty of unwary people You even seem to have made some new friends with whom you happily talk about different grass flavours. Some of them are even drunk enough to find it genuinely fascinating.
Mod Note: Yes, you are a goat. Yes, you can speak English and post normally with no restriction.
++++
Super Secret Mod Note: Actual role name is “Reginald, the Crazy Old Man who Thinks He’s a Goat”, which will be revealed on death.
Coming from a long line of knights, your life was always destined to follow a certain course. A squire in training, a knight errant searching for adventure, winning your spurs in battle, eventually taking over your father’s lands and title. Only, you were never that interested in the fighting. You were good enough, but unmotivated.
What you did learn is that a knight’s life is more than just martial skill. There’s show to it, a pageantry. Wooing maidens, taking on dramatic rather than useful quests, ensuring songs are flattering. Losing a joust with bravery and the right amount of bruising can result in more sympathy and renown than a ruthlessly efficient win. Having perfectly broad shoulders, a chiseled jaw, fine high cheekbones, and deep, soulful blue eyes doesn’t hurt of course.
It happened slowly, but your reputation of valour and chivalry (and handsomeness) outstripped any combat prowess you possessed. People not only knew your name, but chanted it and treated you like a god. Maidens would faint at the mere thought of being presented with a rose. In time, you barely even had to do any knightly deeds at all - the weight of reputation and strong PR management alone was enough to keep you in the spotlight.
You sit elegantly at a corner table, trying not to actually touch any of the furniture. You carefully wipe the table with the end of your exquisite silk scarf, but only manage to spread the dirt more evenly across the surface. The bangles on your arm clink and sparkle as you move, but thankfully the sound can’t be heard over the din. You think longingly of your room at the inn.
Once this night is over you’re going to bury your head in a chest of satin and inhale that beautiful cinnamon scent forever. You are not totally sure that that will be long enough to rid you of the stench of ale and sick.
Gods, why do foreigners love ale so much? And why are they so loud? You slide back a little further into the corner, avoiding some particularly rowdy drunks. You really would rather not have to kill anyone: it makes it much harder to sell them things (although not impossible). You just have to make it through tonight and then if everything goes to plan you can sprint back to your ships with your ears intact and a very lucrative trade bargain into the agreement. Funding this usurping is a tiny down payment for what you stand to gain.
You lick your voluptuous lips at the thought. Sole access to trade routes, prime real estate, primary licenses for any good that exists (and some that don't). The way the idiot Maldorvo stares at you, you know you will be able to squeeze him for as much as this backwater kingdom is worth.
You're going to make an absolute killing.
You reach down one gloved hand and slowly stroke the dog’s sleek head. It’s ears are back, its lips curled, its whole body vibrates with the strength of its growl.
“Good girl” you mutter, “Now…kill!”. The dog surges forward, its powerful back legs making it soar until it bounces harmlessly off your servant’s boot.
The pug lets out an ‘arf’ of annoyance and wiggles furiously, trying to get upright. You sigh. Not that long ago you trained sleek, muscled, borderline-psychotic hunting beasts. You were renowned across the land for the strength and blood-lust of your hounds. Your arms bear the scars of many teeth and claws. You walked around town with an asteroid belt of slavering beasts obediently circling you. You commanded respect. You demanded it.
That is, until the new king took an interest in your work. ‘Why do they have to be so violent?’ he asked. ‘Why can’t they be fluffier?’. He introduced you to pugs as if he thought you would be grateful. As if it was something to keep you occupied in your old age. You regard the pug, who seems to have fallen asleep, snoring gently on its back. You light a cigarette. You’re getting too old for this.
It was then that the king’s brother approached you with a plan. The younger brother. The younger, vicious brother. The younger, vicious brother with a love of hunting. You can almost hear the hounds baying already.
Abilities:
Old Dog, New Tricks: When your co-conspirator Sideshow Vincent, the Mafia Watcher, dies, you gain the following one shot ability:
The Most Dangerous Game (One Shot): At Night you may choose a player. You will gain a copy of that player’s role PM with any other player names in it redacted.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
The game has ended in a Mafia Victory! Congratulations to tomsloger, TheRealStinkyJoeTerry, LnGRrrrR, and Tubba Fett! Commiserations to the Town and more widely, the people of Sonasland, who are in for a torrid time.
Special thanks also for TRSJT, AskThePizzaGuy, and Grapefruit21 for replacing in. The latter two especially for dying almost immediately afterwards.
Full setup, chats, Night actions, awards, and thoughts on the setup and game to follow.
Tom, I had you.
Sorry town, I blew it.
That was a darn fine claim. Did Eternal leave a note in chat or did you see his breadcrumb?
Thanks ECO!
I. *******. Knew it.
Ugh why did I give up that read jfc
Tom felt weird to me all game but I couldn't get an accurate ping. I never would've caught Tom.
Edit: "If Killjoy is town, Tom must be scum" Someone even brought that back up to me (Rodemy, maybe?) and I just... I don't know why I didn't follow through on this either. I was confident on that one too, when I first said it, but I just... didn't pay attention to myself.
I'm so mad that I knew EternalLurker was scum since the very beginning.
I hate being right and not knowing why.
¤.†.¤ The OceanLink ¤.†.¤
gooood game guys
Full Setup (Including Night Action PMs): https://docs.google.com/document/d/12lm-4Mkte1ct9M10tkTSE5iJ4WMlSfWAwmVbF-8kOHM/edit?usp=sharing
Night Action Grid: https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1rQbeKebaf5UzSl5y28E809lL8Sm-h5IT7GLnL6zb7PI/edit?usp=sharing
Mafia Talk (Daytalk): https://quicktopic.com/52/H/8jLAUvz3FrC6
Dead Chat: https://quicktopic.com/52/H/aJd4H8ganBr
I'm so upset. I can't push lynches to save my goddamn life.
¤.†.¤ The OceanLink ¤.†.¤
¤.†.¤ The OceanLink ¤.†.¤
Lurker was scum. Wtf?
Edit: "Hasn't had good reads" "is tunnelled on me" BECAUSE YOU WERE SCUM WHAT ABOUT THAT ISN'T A GOOD READ
jfc
¤.†.¤ The OceanLink ¤.†.¤
Club Flamingo Wins: 1!
Oh No, Not Again - This goes to Rhand for rolling a super cool Town power role and getting immediately murdered on Night 1. Just like in Apocalypse. The trophy for this award is a bowl of petunias.
Super Sub - Goes to AskThePizzaGuy, for his whirlwind contribution of replacing in to a middling slot, making a billion posts, lynching scum, and then - leaving us as quickly as he arrived - being Night Killed. Top drawer replacement skills. Dishonourable mention goes to Cantripmancer for coming in and going out quickly, but without doing anything in between.
Closest Guess - Shared between ATPG and Rodemy. The former for being the closest at giving me 3/4 of the scum on one team, and the latter for being the only player - alive or dead - to call the final pair as TRSJT and tom (which he sadly got talked out of). No-one gave me all four correct names. Shadowlancer get the Shotgun Approach honorary mention for giving me the most guesses, most of which were completely wrong.
Best Newcomer - Tubba Fett, for walking into the baptism of fire that is playing your first game as scum and giving a very credible outing. Even though he was the first scum down, he played solidly for someone new to the game. Hope to see more of him arounf!
Balls Of Steel - Goes to Toastboy for holding a Daykill longer than anyone thought was possible. Especially in the face of being a likely NK at any moment!
Most Nicknames/Hardest to spell - Shared between JeY k and LnGrrrR, who picked up three each: Jey, Jeyk, jey; and Lngrrr, Lingerer, LnGrrrrR .
Captain America "I got that reference award" - Nominations are still open, but LnGrrrR is currently leading the pack in references he told me that he got.