jayseven

Sorry for the length between days/nights. It's... really silly. Next time I do a game, it won't be as silly as this, I promise. 4th Night The sky was filled with spirits tonight. Empty eyes twinkling in anticipation. The hand of the old sheriff was, somewhere, slowly turning the wheel on his own eulogy, in between the valhallah and the pits; he was dawdling. He was afraid. He was tired. The rooftops smouldered as steam and condensation escaped from faulty woodwork. Balconies missing posts, or curtained off-white with the garments caught by foolish leaners on protruding nails. Pipes leading to nowhere in particular. Inside the window, paced the man, with his pile of letters. The most cryptic of all his letters. An etch; a print in the shape of a large, squashed U, with two floating orbs between the shape’s ends like two suns overlooking a soft valley. He scratched his head a little, with a smirk. *** The doctor was feeling mighty useful, alright. S’been four days and three nights where he’s managed to do little next to nuffin’ to save the lives of his townspeople. He was heading to the watering hole, with half a mind to steal a horse and skip town, when, passing the munitions store, a voice halted him. ‘Hey Doc.’ The doc fought against the darkness to recognise the shape as man, not beast or demon. When the figure finally doffed his hat in greeting, he could place the voice to a face. Dirk. ‘What do you want Deputy? Huh? Had enough of locking up the useless folk so now you wanna lock up a doctor?’ ‘Somefin’ like that, boss. Come with me, ok?’ *** A small dog* finished urinating against the watering hole, and pedalled his way down into the backstreets; rummaging food, jumping cartons, scratching piles of dirt about the place. It stopped in the alley behind the coroner’s place. A pale-hued figure was moaning, not in pain but in defeat. The shifting, hunched like-man eased, then pained, then eased its way towards the pup. ‘B… Brai..’ A large boot swept the mongel aside. A few seemingly-dozen feet above the clod foot a voice boomed a warbling spell. If the dog believed in God, he would’ve sworn by him to all his other stray friends that the air sparkled for a moment. The hustling figure ceased its anything, dropped to his knees. ‘This time was closer. You lucky.’ The chief, certain without checking, left the way he came; into thin air. Barbar stood up, and brushed himself down. He was not three doors down from his bar, restocking his ‘special’ liquors, when the urges began to take over. But now, feeling fine and dandy, he found himself right outside the coroner’s office, watching the pale figure, that he himself wasn’t too dissimilar to a few moments before, get spliced and made gutless in the name of science. Barbar found his breath again, and quietly gripped the handle and went in. Connor was busy frantically writing notes down; they seemed to get longer every night. He didn’t notice Barbar had come in until -- schlankshh – the whiskey-esque liquid had been plonked onto his worksurface, splashing his hand as well as the cadavers. ‘I fuckin’ hate blood.’ Barbar said. *** The other end of town rung clear with the bells for 1am. Clark wasn’t aware that it was half past two in the morning. He stood by the door, twitching nods and shakes. ‘Ding dong!’ he said aloud. Then opened the door. There, stood squarely looking at him in the doorway, was the horse. Looking right at him. ‘Come in! Come in! I have tibbit-tea and grouch-biscuits. Some timothy hay? Finest alfalfa between the bells and the cross. Harumph, the horse said, apologetically, and left the clockman with his grin. *** Two doors down from the defunct Moriarty’s, Ernie was resting up. He looked at all the seemingly useless information he had, and just didn’t know what to do with it. His door, unlatched and open to air the breeze to his putrid, dank corner of the town, the door was voided of light by the figure of the pastor. ‘Good evening, my son. You look like a man who needs a confession’ he smiled, like a headmaster with a hand behind his back, as he approached the desk. Behind the pastor could be heard a brief self-exchange emanating from where the pastor entered. ‘Heads or tails. Tails. It’s… Heads. But I called heads! Did not. Too. Fine. We’ll stitch his lips. You’re doing it though.’ It started singing, in high, then low tones. Oh, sweet sheep, I know you not well, but a‘fore we meet, ‘Tween guts and fleece Lies a brief smell Pray your piece I have a tale to tell… Ernie let out a cry, all the while the song continued, until, with exhaustion, he watched his door close behind them. *** The hussy’s heart felt less empty as she heard the tune that walked in the air of the promenade. The voice came closer. ‘My, now! Fancy you, lookin’ like that with a tune like that?’ she put her arms around him. ‘Got a buck?’ *** The pastor felt closer. He could hear God better when other people cried for his name. He was gripping his head, obscuring his vision, stumbling the backstreets fearing no pile of garbage as obstacle, in comparison to his own barriers. He walked straight into its open mouth. It didn’t even have to make a sound. No grunts. The pastor – a smile? – feels it – feels his life force… The undertaker stands, and just watches. From the distance, he holds up a pencil, first vertically, then horizontally, with pursed lips and notching his thumb measures from the top of the scribe, he nodded in concentration. He smacked his tongue; calculations complete. With mild groans behind him now, he walked home, dusting his cap, muttering in feet and inches. *** Rap. Rap. Rap. The Postman jolted awake. His glasses bent under his forehead, scraps of paper stuck to his face. This hour? Really? The train’s not leavin’ for days, may as well deliver it in the mo—Blam blam blam blam! Blam! Blam!. A cackle. Mundi is dead. He was the postman, reading letters addressed to the sheriff. He was good. Outside, a horse chewed on some grouch biscuits, ears aloft. Day 5 begins now Players Remaining 14. 8 is majority. Coolness Bears Cube Dyson Eenuh Ellmeister Gizmo Jonnas Jimbob maddog Moogle Mr-paul nintendohnut Not-So-Tiny Zell *the dog is not a new character, or anything, so ignore it.

I would advise people open each night's phase into a new window, and read through the thread again, inserting player's names into the character placeholders. Understanding who targetted who can start to show a pattern, and as soon as a mafia is discovered it ought to show us who our next suspects are.

Just got back from HOSPITAL 'bout 40 mins ago. I'm allergic to something used in chili sauce/chilis themselves. Rash took over my body, eyes swelled shut, could barely breathe through my nose, gums and lips and forehead went numb, tongue went tingley. Shorty was an ace star driving me there through the most stupid traffic. Spent lots of the night waiting around. The doc, when i finally saw one, was not impressed that the uni doctors three times dismissed my allergies as not that serious. She's going to sort me out a direct appointment with the allergy clinic, rather than having to go through my doctor's... Not going to germany this weekend either now. Bit sad, but mostly relieved as I was not organising it too well. I've been up since 9am yesterday and am really knackered. Doc said there's a chance i could get a second-burst of the allergy at any point in the next 24 hours, too. All this happened after I'd tried to sort out dole/doctors. BLAH. ENOUGH. Was just an annoying day, in general.

i was surprised by this actually. I saw the extras on the first season dvds. I'm still cynical of some of it, but i do think the basis is truth.

Ok. And who did you target? Who is the other furry dude?

Shit, really? lol :P Yes! I bloody hope so. Is there a quick way to see that sort of detail, or is it a VIP thing?

the old midfielder never played a game rated more than 4. seriously. had him for ages. Ok, think he had one amazing game - but he has that skill of being 'moody' and was utterly unpredictable. This season I'm trying to install a rotation system that Oddy had mentioned at the end of last season, and I am no doubt not doing it the smartest way, but I'm giving myself a couple of seasons to get it together. That extra million I earned is going towards a 6-skill... 22 forward? Not utterly amazing but decent enough for a placeholder, and together getting these two players is well worth the guy I sold.

Ah. So you're the magical protector! Who did you target the first night?

One of my supporting cast came through today. a 6 rated forward that I regret bidding for is set to join me by thursday but I think I've arranged my squad/tactics for my game with shorty. Only really two tactics I'm not sure about, that I'll probably change every 4 hours.

SO magical barrier protectorr of samus = Ell's target last night. That'll be useful info.

*moonwalks*

Yeah, you said so before i think no he didn't...

I can;t remember paj :P Another "woahwaoh!" -- Gizmo, nobody was misdirected in this write-up. From that, unless I'm mistaken, I can infer that you want to cover up who it was that you targetted? Jonnas! MOAR!

Fuck it. Vote: Chairdriver

Whoever is link, you followed (protected...) the killer in the first night. Peppy (not_so_tiny) found the pointy-shoed guy to be good. Pointy-shoed guy = Tingle (I reckon. Samus (chairdriver) role-blocked Tingle the first night. Tech-guy gets taken out by samus the 2nd night. His target was protecting Samus. His target protected a furry guy the first night. I suggest tech-guy reveal his targets, if he can speak today. And we still want to hear from maase, for some reason that I can't remember. I'm starting to think the frying pan is just the same killer as the previous night, using an arbitrary, inconsequential weapon. I'm thinking that there's a kirby character messing with things. First night, the kirby imitated the furry dude (starfox/starwolf/tellyn), second night, the kirby imitated the blue dude (Paj) Yellow blanket; is a protector, whom i believe to be good (his targets don't know that he's protecting them)... Reading the nights over and over hurts my mind. But I really think Samus is bad.

ok :P I was just too lazy to go back and check the bish name. That's why you're all supposed to label them properly! [/shifts blame]

Ok. But it's enough time to yank a shirt off and soak a bunch out to make it easier.

Moogle gets a prize for the 'most obvious use of sheffield-based forumites' in his entry, but I'll give this to Dannyboy :P Lesson learned; my entry was too long, with too many blanks. You're up, Madster.

Your defense had a fantastic match, though. Your league has two, maybe three strong competitors. No doubt you can put up a good fight against the rest. Oddy said before that our n-e league is rated something like 304 - the league i'm in is rated 920 (roughly). I'm going to try for promotion in my league this season but i think the competitiveness really increases with every promotion this time around. league 8 is full of drop-outs and people who haven't a clue what they're doing!

I would've urinated into the container, cooling the water. If it was somehow being perpeptually heated hten I would have stuffed clothing into it, soaked up the water until it was at a more bearable level. That probably makes more sense than the peeing thing. But either way, I'd be naked!

yeah. Nobody saw that.

1. Madster sets blanks. 2. People attempt comical words in place of blanks. 3. Madster chooses best attempt. 4. Author of best attempt becomes Madster 5. Goto: 1. Article taken from Sheffield Telegraph ......... set out its stall this week with a ......... scheme for a ......... on the .......... Plans for student ......... on top of the ......... have been .......... Now there will just be the ......... alongside ......... facing the .......... A £32m ......... includes an ........., which ......... a long-running ......... over whether ......... should remain ........., and ......... to the bottom of .......... (this is a first go. I have no idea if this is too much or not...)

I just checked with a made up address/postcode for portugal -- €90.99 and free delivery apparantly extends to portugal. Thank the nice man, O_W :P

if you use firefox apparantly there's something called Chatzilla somewhere... but I can't find it on mine so someone else should tell you how to use it in conjunction with the chat room we've got.

well bowser being good = the window's open, and Danny's been chucking things out of it. I don't think chairdriver particularly had to come out so quick with his character. He seems very confident that he's safe from harm doing so.