Fatal Attractions: The Final Days of The Moonpark [Mafia]

[Havakazoo]

And I'll be out before this game starts as well, to give somebody else a chance

Apologies if this causes issues

[Alsark]

We haven't had a sign up in OVER 9000 minutes... but we're so close .

[Fortuna]

I'm still getting over the disappointment of not being able to scum with Tea and Hava. All that potential wine, wasted.

[El Ninja Monkey]

Right you are Gandhi. You might wanna get some posts in before the game starts so your messages aren't delayed. I think 15 was the requirement to not be reviewed. I'm looking to observe if it's not a hassle.

[A Killer Cuppa Tea]

I'm still getting over the disappointment of not being able to scum with Tea and Hava. All that potential wine, wasted.

[Paranoia]

Technically we have all 25 players if acio n' prime are playing.

[Alsark]

... I didn't realize that my posts needed to be reviewed. Eh... I'll go see if I can post some trivial things then :/.

[Solaris]

Just go suggest on any baby adventure.
It is only an issue if you post things with lotso text and formatting.

[Alsark]

Technically we have all 25 players if acio n' prime are playing.

'Dem suckas need to hurry up and get their names in, then!

[StiqFigurMaster]

come on you guys

seriously

[MathGirl277]

Really random question about deadchat/replacements:
Will there be deadchat, or will the dead be allowed to Replacement Kill lurkers if they did not have an informant role before they died?

[Paranoia]

It really depends. If I do night action flavor for everyone then no no deadplacements.

[Mirdini]

It really depends. If I do night action flavor for everyone then no no deadplacements.

you can do what I do and just deny the deadplacements any flavaflav the night they die.

I mean for roles that can't replace post-n1 you'd have results that would preclude their replacing anyway, roles that can (vanillas) should be able to get generic nightflavor without any information that doesn't compromise their deathreplacement anyway.

[Paranoia]

Let me rephrase:

if this is an allrole game (as in no nillas) - they'd have to give up n1 flavor in order to replace back in. beyond that lolnope.

[Alsark]

This is taking too long...

Sorry, but I'll probably be dropping out if this doesn't start within a few days. BYOR 4 will be starting here soon at Vendetta Strada, and there's a Death Note mafia at another website I'd like to join. But the real issue is that finals are fast-approaching, which means that the professors are going to be throwing their last tests at us back-to-back here in the next couple of weeks. And since the phases are so long, this'll still be going on during finals week, which wouldn't be any good.

[Paranoia]

And prime just dropped too :v

[DecidedlyDevious]

I'll sign up to make sure this game goes through, but if you are reading this and were thinking "Oh my this is my chance to join Paranoia's mafia game!" and are now distraught that I have stolen the spot, I am happy to give it to you.

I'll send some names in a moment.

[El Ninja Monkey]

I believe that's 25.

[Paranoia]

That is 25.

I now need names from people.

[Jacquerel]

If you need replacements or more people and it's past April 23rd then I suppose I'm down for it

[crepuscularDissembler]

in

[El Ninja Monkey]

Nevermind bout oberserving. I'll just replacakill someone if I'm not to busy.

[dragonpaul99]

4 hours until "daybreak"

Nearly a mile beneath the moon's surface, hidden away in the depths of a huge bunker, an elderly man sits at his desk, growing increasingly frustrated with himself. A paper football flies across the room, missing the grandfather clock by only a few inches. An elevator door opens just in time for its occupant to catch the back end of a long string of curse words. The young intern sighs lightly as he enters the room, taking care not to step on any of the broken glass strewn across the floor.

"What? What do you want? Can't you see I'm busy!"
"I was, uh, just coming down to give you a report on what's going on upstairs, sir."
"And?" asks the older man, preparing to flick yet another paper triangle.
"Well, most of the guests have arrived already, but..."
The triangle bounces off the young man's head and lands in puddle of something he hopes is alcohol. He looks back up to see the older man, preparing to flick another paper football, seemingly disinterested in what he has to say. The next triangle bounces off a priceless vase. The vase wobbles back and forth for a second, then slowly settles back in place, unharmed.

"Well?"
"Oh, right. Well most of the guests are already here, but there was a... small mishap with one of the transport carriers."
The next triangle fails to even clear the table.
"What kind of mishap?"
"The explosive kind."
"Was Fortuna hurt at all?"
"Oh! No. She's perfectly fine. The only ones involved in the crash were a pilot and, uh, one of the guests."
Another triangle sails past the clock, hitting a lamp nearby.
"So it's too late to find another to take their place, I assume?"
"Yes sir. It would have to be someone already here in the park, there isn't enough time to send a ship all the way down to Earth and back."
"I see."

A triangle misses the clock by inches yet again, hitting a picture frame and causing it to fall to the ground, adding even more broken glass to the piles of debris scattered across the floor. The old man stands up, turns away from the intern and begins staring intently at an empty section of the wall. After nearly a minute of silence, the younger man speaks up.

".....So, uh, who do you think we should pick to replace them?"
The older man turns to face him again.
"Oh, I already know who their replacement will be. As a matter of fact he's standing in this room right now."
The intern goes pale.
"Sir, you, you can't mean... I-I can't go up there with those psychopaths! There's no way I..... I-I won't do it! I won't! I refuse!.... Sir!"
The old man grins unnervingly.
"Of course not son, I would never dream of asking you to do such a thing."
He picks up a issue of First Post Gazette off his desk and throws it across the room at the intern.
"First page. Third Paragraph. Read it."

The intern bends down and picks the paper up out of the puddle of liquid he hopes is alcohol, struggling to read through the damp headlines.
"The Festivities begin tonight, when OIoSaH CEO, Dang Ron Paul, arrives to host a dinner party for extraterrestial dignitaries and the rich and famous alike. It is also"
"Yes! A dinner party for the rich and famous. Now then, can you tell me exactly what that means?"
"I, uh."
"It means... NO POORS ALLOWED!"
A half empty bottle flies past the intern's face, missing him by inches.
"??!!??!!??!!"
"NO. You will not be attending the dinner party! YOU AREN'T WELCOME!"
The old man strides over to the intern, grabbing the files out of his hands.
"S-sir! You can't be serious."
"Oh, but I am. You didn't think I invited all of them here to just sit back and watch them die did you? I was going to have to kill and replace one of them at some point or another anyway, this just means that it's time to move the schedule forward a bit."
"B-but why would you..."
"No one lives forever son. And no way in hell am I just going to sit here, waiting for death to finally come around. Besides, think of it! 25 of the galaxy's biggest and best, gathered here, on my moonpark! All fighting amongst themselves just for the chance to stay alive. Doesn't that sound exciting?"
The intern stammers for a few seconds as the old man makes his way to the elevator.
"But, what am I supposed to do then, with you gone?"

The old man reaches into his suit pocket, pulling out a small red vial.
"Do you have any idea what's in this little container, son?"
"Er, no sir."
"Incredible people, our scientists here. Managed to create an actual living being, made entirely from fire. Fire ferrets, I call 'em. Fascinating little creatures really."
The old man grins wickedly.
"I trust you'll be able to take care of him while I'm gone."

And just like that, the old man throws the bottle across the room, hitting the grandfather clock and bursting on contact. The clock tumbles over and hits the vase, which in turn knocks over a bust of the old man himself, which finally crashes against his liquor cabinet, causing a cascade of glass and alcohol across the old man's desk.

The intern runs for the elevator, but doesn't manage to reach it before the doors close, leaving him behind. Fire spreads across the alcohol soaked rug at an alarming rate, the paper footballs not much more then kindling in the blazing inferno. Luckily for the intern, he gets the chance to be ripped apart by a vicious weasel-shaped ball of hate long before the fire ever reaches his side of the room.

Hundreds of feet above, the old man stands alone in the elevator, enjoying the silence. After a few moments, he looks down at the file in his hands.

"Well then" he says aloud to himself for no real reason. "Let's see which unlucky bastard I'll be replacing then shall we?"

[Paranoia]

^ You see that up there? That is now Cannon.^

Anyway - I am finishing up preparations. Once I am finished you can expect to start seeing pms VERY. VERY. SOON.

Enjoy~

[Red709]

finally!
I was starting to wonder if this was secretly the Mister Bones Wild Ride