In God We Rust: Game Thread

[jayseven]

Rules

- The day is over when a majority has been reached.

- The night is over when all PMs have been received.

- Inactive players will be replaced if possible, killed if not.

- Inactively killed players can be revived by the GM if they have a valid excuse.

- Roles are malleable and may be adjusted if they are game-breaking.

- Don't hassle the GM if he's taking ages.

- Do hassle the GM with any questions, comments or queries.

- This may go horribly wrong.

- 'The Preacher' is not a player, and not a target.

 

 

'That Damned Preacher' stood on his soap box to keep his feet dry. It always rained in Precinct J7, nicknamed 'Haystack' for its reputation of not being able to find a clean pneuma-needle anywhere, yet whenever you go looking for one you're gonna get pricked. One way or another.

 

Since The Expansion in 2124, life on the ground level was equal both in luxury and respect to that of a cockroach. All the money lived a couple of miles up where the sun still shone and nobody ever got wet. Only cockroaches and rustbuckets got wet. Money was always dry and green.

 

That Damned Preacher was not well liked.

 

"It's no use dreaming anymore. There is no need for your Holy scripture, for a God who demonises the Man who chooses Knowledge when He Himself claims it all for his own! We have the power, the science. We have created our own Children! We have the ability to live forever... So why do you hold on to those damned bibles?"

 

In Man we build. in Robot, we climb! In God... In God we Rust."

 

Not that he could tell, the sun was setting. Far above, the echo of these endless sentimental spouts were reaching Caleb's Diner on the 7th floor. A fairly well-to-do joint considering how close to the ground it was.

 

"Those fuckin' flabby pieces of shit" Caleb spat, as he closed the window. The diner's controls for the Hometronics were still local to the device. You had to get all the way to floor 45 before you saw a HomeHub, let alone a PortaHub. Caleb Returned to the table, not in the diner itself but in the workshop out back, where his Brothers sat, oiling their elbows or tightening their casings, "Are we gonna sort him out, or what?"

 

"The probability is high, most certainly," said one without looking up.

 

Caleb sat down and grabbed a pneumo. He fired it up. "Fucking Liberals," he smiled.

 

From his corner, Dmitri flossed his teeth and absentmindedly rubbed where they had chipped him. He was vaguely aware that his mechanical masters were probably soon going to ask him to do something. Again. But that was ok. He loved them. More than he loved his brothers. His flesh-and-blood brothers.

 

None of them realised that the other side of the road, practically the exact same meeting was going on.

 

On the 8th Floor, in Smokey's Pool Hall, Viktor and his cousins had closed up the place for the night.

 

Someone from the shadows spoke up, "When do we begin, boss?"

 

"Those 'kin Liberals." Viktor put the cue down, and summoned for Noah. Noah was alert and brought his master a pneumo, and returned to his spot as Viktor began injecting himself. "Which of you boys is up for it tonight?"

 

Noah didn't like it when Viktor asked someone else to do something. Noah felt useless. Useless was immoral. A crime. "Sir, if I may, I would like to request I help you with this matter immediately."

 

Elsewhere, various Humes and their Robo companions went about their daily routine. That damned, dirty, Liberal life. They didn't know what was going to hit them.

 

There were two individuals, though, who quite frankly, didn't care.

 

 

Day 0 is over.

 

20 players remain.

Chairdriver

Cube

Dan-likes-trees

Dannyboy-the-dane

Diageo

Dyson

Eenuh

Ellmeister

Gmac

Heroicjanitor

Jonnas

Maddog

Mundi

Nintendohnut

Paj Meen Ah

ReZ

Smeagol

The Peeps

Tellyn

Zell

 

Send me your PMs Now.

 

Night 1.

Night 2.

Edited October 21, 2010 by jayseven

[ReZourceman]

(Cool write up )

[heroicjanitor]

Wow you can set a mood very well

[Sméagol]

I.. Will have something to work on it seems .

[Dannyboy-the-Dane]

(By the way, I'm away this weekend as wll. I'll be back Sunday.)

[The Peeps]

this seems... awesome

[Jonnas]

It is also night...

[jayseven]

That's right! So get them damned PMs in!

[ReZourceman]

That's right! So get them damned PMs in!

 

Its probably clear, but people may need to know that even if they don't want to do anything they need to send a PM in. But if they read the rules they should know that. Hopefully.

[jayseven]

Advancements in cyber warfare meant that any governing body smart enough and wealthy enough still invested in paper copies of all documentation. But clearly that came at a cost to the staffing. The robot's department insignia that would've sat either side of his head had long since worn away, but he still had the J7PD badge, safely stowed away in his side. He flashed the badge at a hume assistant at the DATAPOL office a few blocks skywards in his own building, and made his way down the stacks. A file was made on every man, woman and robot at conception or construction. Ah, here's the one he was looking for. He makes a note, and leaves quickly.

 

That Damned Preacher went home when there was nobody around left to ignore him. With no sun to guide him, he had instead learnt to time his retreat around about the time the smell of hard liquor and used pneumos began to linger. In his stead, the soap box was occupied by a hooded creature, squatting like a gargoyle. His creators deemed him the "paramount of science", and this came out in his extraordinary perception.

 

Adam had located the two test subjects of his own, and waited silently as his first field experiment began.

 

Dmitri felt odd. He was pleased to do as he was ordered, but something compelled him, spoke to him to act otherwise. As he dispersed from his masters, he ignored the turning he was supposed to make, and headed to the lift. He spoke, "Floor four-oh-nine."

 

Nothing happened.

 

Brow wrinkled, he tried again, "COMMAND: Floor four-oh-nine, computer." Still nothing. Even tapping in the numbers manually didn't work. Confused, he exited the lift, and went home, unable to think.

 

A few minutes later, one of Dmitri's masters entered the lift, unaware of what he had just missed. "Four-zero-nine, computer." He waited the appropriate amount of time before inserting his USF (universal serial finger) directly into the controls to input the command. Still, nothing happened. He gave up. "Ground," and the lift whirred into life, but not before the Doctor's assistant, who was hidden behind a potted fake plant. made a few notes.

 

As he headed out into the street, muttering about his severance package he somehow didn't hear the footsteps that squeaked as they followed him. He didn't hear the footstep's owner whimpering something about uselessness and sin over, and over, and over. The mutterer was going to bide his time, play it safe.

 

The confusion affected more than one individual. The second one rubbed his head mercilessly, unable to shake the feeling that he had set out to do something a little different... Yet he found himself at the doctor's on the 13th floor - the red light district. He looked in the window, but he saw the man was just sat there, plugged into his HEUie. The doctor wasn't wearing the lenses, and combined with the foot-tapping he must've been simply listening to music. What an old, old man. He stood off to the side of the door in some shadows, ready to prevent the doctor if he ever left the apartment.

 

But he didn't.

 

Jeremiah always felt proud when he was doing what he was made to do. The extra weight of the individual inside him felt good. Secure. Safe. LOL, he said to himself. He had made his first robo-joke. The individual countained within the vast, barrel-like chest of Jeremiah put himself into hibernate mode, and recharged through the night.

 

The lean figure looked tired. He was on the fifth floor of the atrium. Smoking was banned outside. He lit up, his zippo lighter sporting a jetski silhouette. A small joke between him and his friends. You can either be afraid of the water, or thrive on it. Down here in the wet and wild. he'd been looking for someone... something, and as he leaned out over the atrium, he realised he could see it, on the ground level below him. He saw a mosaic of digits and static as it wormed around a corner away from him with trojan determination. He pulled out a jammer, hit a few buttons for co-ordination - and the pulse stopped in its tracks. Boris saw that the shimmering thing was also emitting some noxious-looking gas. Worrying a little, he left.

 

The journalist sat at his desk, smoking a geniune tobacco cigarette he'd pinched on a trip to the J1 colony when he wrote a story on the fallacy of corruption, or the frequency of competition, or something like that. He'd forgotten. Karpov I have contacted our source. "Dude! that's totally..." He reads the PM. "wow. Mind. Blown. Moses, tell your source thanks, we'll be back with more credits tomorrow night," Certainly. Karpov starts tapping away at his keyboard, only pausing to cuss at the relentless rain battering at his window.

 

Up on floor 409, the pair were enthralled in a game of chess. One was, of course, letting the other win. "It appears there several attempts were made by individuals seeking... council with us tonight. I suppose it was of great fortune that we did listen to "That Darned Preacher."

 

"It's Damned."

 

"Sorry sir, my programming does not allow me to swear, except solemnly," he said as he overlooked mate in five moves and instead chose nf3 instead.

 

"Not like we asked him to do this," the man playing white responded. "He just went and did it. We should count ourselves lucky. It'll be different tomorrow night. Mark my words."

 

Outside, John stopped by a laminated tree, considering for a moment why such archaic objects were still so endeared. That's when he heard the muttering--

 

"This will make me useful. This is good. This is --"

 

John's lights dimmed, his speech slowed down as he tried to turn, "End of... Sig...nal..."

 

His mission complete, the killer squeaked away. "This is right. My master will be pleased. Very."

 

Night 1 is over.

 

Jonnas is dead. He was John, the Probot.

 

19 players remain.

Chairdriver

Cube

Dan-likes-trees

Dannyboy-the-dane

Diageo

Dyson

Eenuh

Ellmeister

Gmac

Heroicjanitor

Maddog

Mundi

Nintendohnut

Paj Meen Ah

ReZ

Smeagol

The Peeps

Tellyn

Zell

 

Sorry for the blip. realised I'd missed one part out!

Edited September 27, 2010 by jayseven

[ReZourceman]

Eeeep. *Digests*

[chairdriver]

There must be more than this Provincial life...

[The Peeps]

Great write-up. Not a clue about what happened lol.

[Sméagol]

Hmm. I'll have to go over it some more, but I really think my usual playstyle won't work as effectively as the other games I have been in / am in. I'll attempt a breakdown, but I fear my speculations will be vague at best .

[jayseven]

(fixed a few spelling mistakes and coding that got lost in translation.)

 

Smeagol; yeah, that's the point of my mafia :P Start with what you've learned from YOUR role in the write-up. Some people will, of course, have more info than others, but mostly it's a case of... play a few nights, see where it's at :P

[Paj!]

I love.

 

I haven't taken it all in/I'm sure it'll become clearer as we get familiar with the characters. I wasn't in the write-up...

[gmac]

that is indeed an awesome writeup, not that anything has become clear to me from it though

[Nintendohnut]

I don't think I was either! Still, I love the tone etc. Really good creative piece considering that your plot will be dictated somewhat. Anyway, as jayseven has suggested we do this I'll read it through again and see if I was in there. I may have been referred to once, but it's such a complex write-up it'll be hard to tell. If anyone can see anything more obvious about themselves then that would be great.

 

It looks like someone stopped the lift anyway. That's interesting. Is the lift a character who was roleblocked do we think, or is it someone's power to do such a thing. That was the first thing I got from the write-up, I'll have another look through now.

 

New post (may not be a double post but just in case)

 

So, I read it through again and came up with two things.

 

1) The doctors assistant knows who one of Dimitri's masters is. In the first write-up dimitri had at least two 'mechanical masters' and as they are a group it sounds like they are a mafia. There may be two mafias, as there was another group across the street. Either way, Dimitri and his masters are part of a group. This is extremely unlikely to be good. Therefore I would like to hear from the Doctor's Assistant who witness the master entering the lift.

 

2) The Journalist got some information from a contact last night, which apparently blew his mind. Now, obviously if that information isn't useful the journalist may be safer keeping quiet. However, if the journalist thinks the info would be useful (it certainly sounds interesting from the write-up) it would be good to share that as well.

 

Personally I think I was only referenced/passingly mentioned in the write-up so I can't really bring any of my own information to the table. Still, let's see how things happen today as more people reply.

[jayseven]

advancements in cyber warfare meant that any governing body smart enough and wealthy enough still invested in paper copies of all documentation. But clearly that came at a cost to the staffing. The robot's department insignia that would've sat either side of his head had long since worn away, but he still had the J7PD badge, safely stowed away in his side. He flashed the badge at a hume assistant at the DATAPOL office a few blocks skywards in his own building, and made his way down the stacks. A file was made on every man, woman and robot at conception or construction. Ah, here's the one he was looking for. He makes a note, and leaves quickly.

____

 

I forgot a paragraph SORRIES GUUYZ. *puts it in the main post*

[Jonnas]

...This is the first time I've ever been killed in the first night, I think

 

And "speech" is misspelled!

[Sméagol]

I'll try.

 

A general speculation first though.. One thing the writeup does make clear is there's no social difference between humans and robots, but ther's still a high class and low class. There are Humans with robot assistents, and Robots with human assistence. I believe the "mafia(s?)" are a mixture between humans and robots.

 

Advancements in cyber warfare meant that any governing body smart enough and wealthy enough still invested in paper copies of all documentation. But clearly that came at a cost to the staffing. The robot's department insignia that would've sat either side of his head had long since worn away' date=' but he still had the J7PD badge, safely stowed away in his side. He flashed the badge at a hume assistant at the DATAPOL office a few blocks skywards in his own building, and made his way down the stacks. A file was made on every man, woman and robot at [i']conception[/i] or construction. Ah, here's the one he was looking for. He makes a note, and leaves quickly.

I apologize to jayseven for reducing his paragraphs he has written with love to a speculation from me what it's all about in 1 or 2 sentences :p.

 

I'm not sure if these are 2 persons, but at the very least this is a robot investigator, who gets info on players. Jayseven makes sure the writeup doesn't reveal who his (her / its) target was. Perhaps the human assistent is a player, but I doesn't make clear what his / her role would be.

That Damned Preacher went home when there was nobody around left to ignore him. With no sun to guide him, he had instead learnt to time his retreat around about the time the smell of hard liquor and used pneumos began to linger. In his stead, the soap box was occupied by a hooded creature, squatting like a gargoyle. His creators deemed him the "paramount of science", and this came out in his extraordinary perception.

So the Preacher isn't a player, but the "gargoyle" surely should be one. And is a robot. But what it does?

Adam had located the two test subjects of his own, and waited silently as his first field experiment began.

I think the 2 confused characters are his targets. But what he does? Redirect?

Dmitri felt odd. He was pleased to do as he was ordered, but something compelled him, spoke to him to act otherwise. As he dispersed from his masters, he ignored the turning he was supposed to make, and headed to the lift. He spoke, "Floor four-oh-nine."

 

Nothing happened.

 

Brow wrinkled, he tried again, "COMMAND: Floor four-oh-nine, computer." Still nothing. Even tapping in the numbers manually didn't work. Confused, he exited the lift, and went home, unable to think.

The first confused person. He seems redirected. Dmitri is probably human.

A few minutes later, one of Dmitri's masters entered the lift, unaware of what he had just missed. "Four-zero-nine, computer." He waited the appropriate amount of time before inserting his USF (universal serial finger) directly into the controls to input the command. Still, nothing happened. He gave up. "Ground," and the lift whirred into life, but not before the Doctor's assistant, who was hidden behind a potted fake plant. made a few notes.

Not sure what's up with the lift, but I don't think the Doctor's assistant has anything to do with it. Maybe an investigator too, or a tracker? Anyway, one of Dmitri's robot masters is stopped in its tracks somehow.

As he headed out into the street, muttering about his severance package he somehow didn't hear the footsteps that squeaked as they followed him. He didn't hear the footstep's owners as he muttered something about uselessness and sin over, and over, and over. The mutterer was going to bide his time, play it safe.

Hmm, someone targeted the mutterer. This is the most important info we have at the moment, as the mutterer is the killer.

The confusion affected more than one individual. The second one rubbed his head mercilessly, unable to shake the feeling that he had set out to do something a little different... Yet he found himself at the doctor's on the 13th floor - the red light district. He looked in the window, but he saw the man was just sat there, plugged into his HEUie. The doctor wasn't wearing the lenses, and combined with the foot-tapping he must've been simply listening to music. What an old, old man. He stood off to the side of the door in some shadows, ready to prevent the doctor if he ever left the apartment.

 

But he didn't.

So here we have a redirected roleblocker who didn't have anyone to roleblock.

Jeremiah always felt proud when he was doing what he was made to do. The extra weight of the individual inside him felt good. Secure. Safe. LOL, he said to himself. He had made his first robo-joke. The individual countained within the vast, barrel-like chest of Jeremiah put himself into hibernate mode, and recharged through the night.

So ehm, yeah. 2 robots.. I figure the recharging is a protect + roleblock combo.

The lean figure looked tired. He was on the fifth floor of the atrium. Smoking was banned outside. He lit up, his zippo lighter sporting a jetski silhouette. A small joke between him and his friends. You can either be afraid of the water, or thrive on it. Down here in the wet and wild. he'd been looking for someone... something, and as he leaned out over the atrium, he realised he could see it, on the ground level below him. He saw a mosaic of digits and static as it wormed around a corner away from him with trojan determination. He pulled out a jammer, hit a few buttons for co-ordination - and the pulse stopped in its tracks. Boris saw that the shimmering thing was also emitting some noxious-looking gas. Worrying a little, he left.

Hmm. A human who is roleblocking a robot with an interesting looking ability, too bad we don't find out what it does.

The journalist sat at his desk, smoking a geniune tobacco cigarette he'd pinched on a trip to the J1 colony when he wrote a story on the fallacy of corruption, or the frequency of competition, or something like that. He'd forgotten. Karpov I have contacted our source. "Dude! that's totally..." He reads the PM. "wow. Mind. Blown. Midas, tell your source thanks, we'll be back with more credits tomorrow night," Certainly. Karpov starts tapping away at his keyboard, only pausing to cuss at the relentless rain battering at his window.

Hmm, so yeah.. A journalist.. I hope he doesn't change the writeup somehow.

Up on floor 409, the pair were enthralled in a game of chess. One was, of course, letting the other win. "It appears there several attempts were made by individuals seeking... council with us tonight. I suppose it was of great fortune that we did listen to "That Darned Preacher."

 

"It's Damned."

 

"Sorry sir, my programming does not allow me to swear, except solemnly," he said as he overlooked mate in five moves and instead chose nf3 instead.

 

"Not like we asked him to do this," the man playing white responded. "He just went and did it. We should count ourselves lucky. It'll be different tomorrow night. Mark my words."

Dmitri and one of his masters would be the individuals looking for this pair. At least one of 'm is a robot. I wonder what happens tomorrow though.

Outside, John stopped by a laminated tree, considering for a moment why such archaic objects were still so endeared. That's when he heard the muttering--

 

"This will make me useful. This is good. This is --"

 

John's lights dimmed, his speach slowed down as he tried to turn, "End of... Sig...nal..."

 

His mission complete, the killer squeaked away. "This is right. My master will be pleased. Very."

The mutterer kills John the robot. It's clear, but I wonder if the "going to bide his time" bit fror earlier is actually something gameplay related (and complicating things) or just simply flavour to bridge the earlier part to the murder part at the end.

 

..

[heroicjanitor]

I have to hurry before my laptop runs out of battery but this looks confusing. Some things to notice are that That Damned Preacher seems to have protected two players from attacks/investigations. The name midas could turn out to be significant and that cloud could infect robots and poison humans.

[Nintendohnut]

I completely missed the fact that the mutterer from earlier was also the killer. I didn't make the link at all. I just assumed they were two different people! At least we know some people have information now.

 

Smeagol, while your dissection might slightly tarnish the epic write-up, it's also extremely useful. Definitely continue!

[Dannyboy-the-Dane]

Interesting write-ups, I must say! Loving the storyline. Tired as feck now, but will return tomorrow and attempt to see what I can extract from the write-ups.

[Diageo]

Just got back. Will have a few reads of this and come out with some conclusions later.