jayseven

.. by killing innocents? Yah, ok. How did I know? Let's just say remember Rokhed said he had some friends? Well I'm one of them. Rokhed helped identify trustworthy townies.. Sanchez and Mcoy seemed to be safe. You seemed to be a prostitute, according to the inner circle :P I still think that the quieter people left in the game are the ones probably sitting back and watching the townies tear each other apart. And Thunderer; how did you have access to the mafia library? What is this all about?

If I pick a good guy, I die. If I pick a bad guy, I survive. If I don't pick, I survive, but leave my powers up to the hands of the randomator. The sanchez thing was to do with a certain braclet-type thing that nobody is allowed to talk about.

Wasnay too bad. A house full of girls ALL DRESSED LIKE DEVILS. Bit sad. Still, was nice to get drunk in the company of others. Then went in a taxi with a couple of others, queued up for the Corp for 20 mins, saw lots of costumes, then got bored and left hte queueue and went to the varsity, had a drink, went to play a game of pool, the place shut, had a barstaff insult me, walked home. Teh end.

If you don't choose who to use your power on, it will be randomised. It's not easy when nobody with any decent powers of, say, observing the actions of others at night, came forward and presented more names, eh? Bring it, Mcoy! Perhaps. I've re-read some of the earlier nights, and it says you used your ability on, we're presuming, skunky? As you had reason to suspect he would hurt someone. I don't think you're in the mafia anymore. NOT that that helps me, but I thought I'd let you know. I thought bartering was frowned upon? So you don't have any useful information at all? Half the town are also votingfor me, and they will include those that are in the mafia. I can't say "i guarentee you" or "trust me" anymore. All I seem to have is words. That's two points :P What's wrong with an educated guess on how many mafia I think are left? Not exactly incriminating. Your phrasing suggests that i also confessed to there being a strong connection between a mafia and the one being mind-controlled. That's liable! I believe the connection is that the one doing the controlling is in the mafia. I am not allowed to reveal the entirity of my role! Most people cannot. No matter what evidence I present, you'll never believe me. At least I'm not holding anything back for no reason whatsoever like some people *cough* Mcoy *cough* That's not my only defence. You just choose this time to take away any benefit of a doubt you had for me. Please take this into account. Sigh. Accuracy knows no bounds. TA! FFS. All this time I've been supporting you. >_< DODGY. __ Man, long post. Last words?

I've been wondering precisely the same thing. Last time it was up to the godfather to pick one of their guys to go out and kill. When teh godfather died, the son/daughter stepped up. I think Haggis' mafia is made of conscripted people, as you say too. If that's the case, maybe none of them are able to send someone out to kill? They just have their abilities and do what they can. Maybe the boss is simply not using their power sometimes? I don't know. Not every night have I been able to kill who I wanted to - quite often someone has literally beaten me too it, or confused me, or tied me up or whatever. Mundi - if I survive any lynch, perhaps you would like to pick someone for me to go after?

er, no. That's a different person. I don't work for any mafia. Yeah I kill. I have to. If I don't pick, then it gets randomised. I am not associated with the mafia, but clearly the last two nights one of them has been controlling my mind. I aim for the mafia, and I'm responsible for killing the only mafia that have been killed in this game. You get rid of me, you get rid of the only person who can help your cause. But I'm guessing it's too late for all that The mafia are clearly going to win now gg.

yeap. Vigilante 7 : I still wanna know what else Mcoy has 'seen' over the other nights! That sort of info could be really useful. Shame to see it come out so late in the game. CHANGEVOTE: No lyncheroo for now.

Actually the ones of me were taken with a camera which could do split-shot things Take the first pic, move, next, move, and it automatically stitched them together, so long as the camera was held stil enough it looked good.

You shall be another person who will have to say "JAYSEVEN FTW SORRY I SED U WER MAFIAAR" when you find out that i'm not, then srsly. I want to hear it said. It's clear that MIND CONTROL BEATZ WHAT I WANT TO DO. As does RANDOMIZATION. Prostitutes were bad last time. The mayor was bad this time. We had timetravelling, spell-masters, guys who invent potions... This game isn't straightforward. Now, you're either the guy who controlled my mind, or just some guy who was watching. Who else have you been watching? What else have you seen in the last 6 nights?

It's just a GUESS at how many mafia. What, you think there's three? Two? TEN? And if you read the write-ups... Well I'd be more worried about teh guy doing the mind-control than the guy who killed Rez. That mind-controller chose him, after all. I just want to say that a lot of suspicion in this thread has come from postal activity rather than the write ups... i'm guilty of that too. Next time, I will be more wary of those not posting anything, the guys who make three posts in the entire thread. And I will be wanting EVERYONE to use their night powers because I get the feeling not everyone has been. EDIT: and why would that make me a mobster straight out? because I will guarentee I'm not. When you find out, I DEMAND you post "jayseven roxor I rong innit" :P

I think there are two mafia groups, four max to each, and two dead. Six left. Two groups because... there was last time :P Four max because... well we had 4 in each last time, and chairdriver insinuated that he wasn't going to make them bigger because they had an unfair advantage last time. Educated guess, along with CD saying the game's nearly over.

Maybe this guy has been killing the bad guys, and was MIND CONTROLLED to kill someone good? HMMM? Mabye this someone is the one who actually killed haggis? HMM?

ok, fair enough What did you do last night, though?

Which baddies? If you've got some names, it'll help. I really don't want to lynch another townie if you are one, as the game will be over :'(

Ok, so what does being a good prostitute mean :/

Mcoy... NOOOOOOOOOOO! Don't do it. My role is misunderstood. Bartering doesn't work. I do believe that Mundi is the prostitute in the mafia, and I do believe another member is in the mafia but that's just because I live with him and he's been acting suspicious all the time :P If you start seeing people coming out of the woodwork to vote for me, then you can bet that they're mafia too. There's at least 6 mafia left, so that's 6 townies. You pick me off and I GUARENTEE that there will be no tomorrow, and no night in the game. It will be over. MUNDI. You are the prostitute. It's now or never. Vote Mundi

Hows about the fact that landing in a pool of water is seemingly DEADLY in most games. Why can't they just swim? Falling from any height and doing a little roll at the end to avoid damage! Of course!

Er.. Yeah. Marshmallow's the grand age of.. er.. One. But two years on the forum? Wahey! B'day shizzles.

ah but IMDB-surfing verily interrupts the movie.

Truth is that the utter insignificance of my inner turmoils to anyone and everything else just adds to the misery, which adds to the self-awareness of my own selfishness and stupidity and arrogance, which adds to the self-hate, which adds to the troubles... and so on, and so on. I keep having recurring dreams, where I somehow bump into her, usually at least one of us with a friend, shopping or smething, and at first she's all smitten to see me and she tries to hug and kiss me - but I don't let her. I tell her to stop, that this is wrong - then she ignores me, goes off and I can't see her but I can sense that she's perfectly fine... So I try to find her and talk to her, try in that stupid mannish way to put into words exactly what I think is going on and exactly how I want things to progress from here, and exactly what I want to know from her - how she feels about me, other guys, her life without me, etc... But when I find her it's as if I'm trying to kiss her and she's having none of it - just ignoring me... And she points over my shoulder to some non-descript object (last time was a heart with a skull in it) and says that THAT is what I should be looking for. So yeah, those dreams aren't great.. but the dreams where somehow everything is a game and I'm playing, don't know if i'm winning but somehow the game itself is worth the play alone, is always worth sleeping for. And of course, you can never find the right words. There's always far too many strings attached to each word you put down, to each thought that is biting away at you, that you can never put them all down seamlessly and sensibly... but that's why when I start, I tend not to stop for a while. In many senses, the joke of writing this down for other people to read is enough to accept that I'm even thinking about it - and thus the complete benignity of it all comes to be an insignificance... Even though you don't know exactly what i'm feeling (and even though I know you do at least a bit :P), somehow I know myself that little bit more for pouring out in this way. Besides, I do choose my words half-carefully, holding back the stuff I don't actually want to tell you - and that leaves me with the control - with the missing jigsaw pieces so I can turn around to any interpretation and say "yes I can see why you think that - but of course I know the missing details, and you don't, and that's why you don't and won't understand, but that's ok because i know that you won't because I've got the missing pieces." AND STUFF, JEEZ. WHINEWHINEWHINE.

lol :P actually i'm rather looking forward to the waking day - fancy dress parties are always an excuse to make yourself whoever you want to be. Truth be told, this is a good day on the bottle. The shave SERIOUSLY helped. You don't want to read what I write on a bad day on the bottle. Writing always helps, though. Get it out there, put it down in words, and you can see it and you can break it down and make a new path. But sometimes things really are as bad as they seem. You know, I've always had this dream, this ideal future of mine that I am somehow destined to have some sort of secure job, a loving wife and a kid or two that are just perfect. But that's just not guarenteed. That's barely even likely. Any possible dream or future is so easily ruined by just one simple act of NOT BOTHERING - but the great thing is you know exactly where you'll be each time you give up. And it just gets to the point where giving up is actually so fucking easy! It's not giving up, it's not breaking down, it's not anything at all. Siiiiiiiiiiiiigh. You know what I hate about sleeping? I mean don't get me wrong, I fucking love sleeping. I love dreaming, I love being apart from reality - It's the waking up. The first few times you open your eyes you can pretend the dream is still going, you can fake your way through it and resume your fantasy... But at some point, either you'll dream about that girl, or that moment in your life which you've labelled as the Major Fuck Up, and you just can't sleep anymore. That moment a few seconds after you open your eyes when you remember. You remember who you are, why your life sucks and why it won't change anytime soon. I live to avoid that moment, because it's always the first of many. SO yeah, stay up 'til at least 4 each night, six hours sleep is usually enough for my body but I always need ten or twelve to ease my mind out and back in. That leaves five-to-seven hours to shake and quiver and panic through crowded rooms and streets until I crack open a new bottle, drink myself into a creative coma, drown my senses in the audio-visual world of whatever tv series I'm flooding myself with tomorrow, hook myself on something, anything, that takes my mind away and rinse and repeat. So I don't ever want to go to sleep if it will require more than 15 minutes to lose my consciousness. It merges the days, but that's alright. Makes them seem more significant. Makes the passing of time count for more. Plus obviously as an english student, it provides lots of tasty creative juice!

HEALTH PACKS HEAL EVERYTHING. I can carry UNLIMITED WEAPONS and ammo. I somehow run faster with a knife. I can jump twice my height! I NEVER EVER, NO MATTER WHAT GAME IT IS, NEED TO PEE.

MY DAY. It seems an age ago, but i WENT TO UNI TODAY!!! Was alright. Drank cider later, watched the first several eps of smallville series 6. Watched channel 4 for lots of hours - poker, addictions, football show, stroppy kids... Currently watching ep5 of Supernatural. Wishing the mafia thread was faster as I'm far too damn into it. Realising it's HALLOWEEN TODAY! ... and that the holiday becomes a great excuse to dress up and get drunk the older you get.. and hoping that the party tonight pans out well, and that I don't slap anyone too soon. Also finding that it's taking longer in the mornings to remember that I used to have a girlfriend. Starting to almost chuckle when I remember her. But also still got this whole sleep-disorder thing going. And the alcohol drinking-lots-of thing, too. Tomorrow will make it... a lot of days in a row where I've had at least 15 units. I don't really hate myself. I'm growing to learn that. If I want to blame something, I need to blame the thing that killed me. She still has my fucking dictophone. I wonder what the shop near me thinks, I only go in there to buy booze, tobacco or tins of food. At least they're starting to realise I don't need a bag. Shaving helped. Suddenly started to realise that beards aren't that attractive - especially when they're not fully formed. Also, greasy hair is a bad. As is smelly. Freaking out at the thought of ever bringing a girl home to the pit that I call BED, but always finding comfort in teh fact that I know I will not be in the situation to ever talk to one for.. well... the forseeable future. So that half-full can of cider that's sitting on top of my stolen harry potter book, that's been there since my second week in this flat, can remain to be the ridiculous self-projection that I claim to see each time I notice it. Took down the birthday cards. The home-made valentines and the heart-felt christmas cards today. Didn't even look at them as I did it. Molded the blu-tac into the shape of a brain above my light switch to remind myself to think in the mornings. I hate how my reflection gets uglier as I get further away from the mirror. Makes me hate how everyone must see me in teh street. Mastered the art of avoiding my own eye contact. Learnt to brush my teeth without looking. Probably gotten a lot more plaque because of it. Recognising age, and the genuine one-way nature of it, and seeing all my missed chances even in those a year younger than me, and just feeling numb because it was too late to do anything about it even when I was that age. Stopped believeing that the two years with her was a waste of my life, and started realising that life is continuously wasting away, that we don't become some perfect ideal of ourselves... we're always some shelled, degraded version of what we want to be, and happiness with that is just not looking in the mirror for months at a time - or at least pretending you're flossing someone elses teeth when you do glimpse the stranger in teh bathroom. Feeling apologetic about the things nobody notices, or at most choose to ignore. But it's ok. Nobody forced me to say it, and nobody forced you to read it. And nobody cares.

ooh - guards who see you, chase you for a minute, then a timer runs down and they say "aah must've been nothing" and go back to their posts. Nubs. Or when you're sniping and you miss the guy, then he turns and immediately runs towards you and starts shooting you.

ah, man, there's always a guy in a film that I recognise from somewhere... Indeed often it's the same dude in EVERY FUCKING FILM for a period of a couple of weeks, but to be honest I really don't ever remember their names :/ Oh!! That guy with the metal arm fromk Starship Troopers. Damn everywhere. But I love spotting a familiar face and spending the next 30 mins of the film trying to remember where I saw him/her before. Happens every film.