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Post by C.J. Gates on Apr 7, 2012 1:45:22 GMT -4
EWOP
How did I? That's my role. It's horrible, I know, but I haven't lied yet, and won't lie. I'm town. I'm a vengeful townie. Marvin is scum. Chaz is sane.
But enjoy lynching a townie!
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Post by T-Marv on Apr 7, 2012 1:49:39 GMT -4
Unvote
Anything senior Scum?
My only fear is that CJ somehow has a bomb roll attached to him, but I highly doubt it so I should be alright then.
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Post by Level-Two on Apr 7, 2012 1:49:55 GMT -4
Well then let's do it. T-Marv unvote CJ.
Mind you anyone who tries to stall this - you're outing yourself. So don't try slick shit.
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Post by C.J. Gates on Apr 7, 2012 1:54:54 GMT -4
Only one on right now who hasn't voted me is me, and by all means, at this point, I'm tempted to vote myself, let Marv hammer, so then we're both gone, because trying to prove that I am town will only happen when I've flipped it and you can all see the error you have made.
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Post by Reaver on Apr 7, 2012 2:32:36 GMT -4
ok so this is my final post for the day *hint hint wink wink.....jeff* IM ABOUT TO BLOW ALL UR MINDS! Vote: GATESconsider urself lynched bud. (and im serious about that if u understand ALL my previous posts, my role is obvious) the reason im hammering CJ is simple. y didnt u claim vengeful townie 2 votes ago? y wait till ur 1 away from death? my guess is that u got scared and threw something out there in hopes of getting some last minute sympathy. and though it seems sketchy that terry's role would be bastardized, i think i no wat it may be. the way i see it, even IF gates shows up town and he really IS vengeful townie, then terry is gonna get the 1 shot kill meaning we will be down at least 1 scum anyways rite? so if that were the case, gates wouldnt be dead in vein. now if gates is town, where r his scum buddies to defend him? where r they to hammer him to stay out of harms way? the fact that he hasnt been hammered by the rest of those not voting should be an indication as to who his scum mates r or else he would have been rushed to the noose already. they were STALLING!! he blocked chaz from checkin himself to stall just that much more. chaz, check ur shit again, give him some protection!! ...also note, if somebody is a TOWN RB'er, plz pick a certain somebody who does web cam shows
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Post by Michael Jennings on Apr 7, 2012 2:52:57 GMT -4
Knuckles is right. Scum team is stalling. It's very obvious and I'm not buying the vengeful townie claim at all. Reeks of a safeclaim to me. If he is telling the truth we already know what to do the next day phase depending upon what he comes up as. Also what's with the webcam thing Knuckles? lol I don't get the reference.
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Post by SalTal on Apr 7, 2012 3:01:21 GMT -4
Knuckles wants someone to RB me on the assumption that I'm scum. He's wrong, and the RB-er should use it elsewhere. Seriously.
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Post by Nathaniel Havok on Apr 7, 2012 3:29:40 GMT -4
Vote: CJ Gates
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Post by Level-Two on Apr 7, 2012 3:39:55 GMT -4
Okay that's FIVE votes!
NOBODY ELSE VOTE!
T-Marv, lay down the hammer and let's see what happens.
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Post by President Jeff on Apr 7, 2012 6:25:05 GMT -4
I think Chaz vote was his 6th vote for the Lynch. I was gonna vote CJ as well, but looks like I don't have to now. Terry, if your lying to us, consider your ass Lynched next
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Post by C.J. Gates on Apr 7, 2012 10:17:19 GMT -4
Chaz was 6 I believe. We were at 5 when Marv unvoted.
Was a good game. Enjoy playing without two more townies (one of which is the cop) since my role should kill Chaz.
And Knuckles, I didn't claim until I was one vote away because that was when I got home to see where everything was. Next time I'll make sure to claim earlier so people can not believe me sooner. I haven't lied at all this entire game, and I'm sure that right now, Marvin and his scum buddies are laughing their asses off at the town and what they have done to basically hand the scum the win. Ever think there is a reason Marvin unvoted? He knew that he had everyone eating out of his hand and if he played that game, by the time someone else voted, it would have been someone else that was the hammer and not Marvin.
He's the scummer out of him and I, but I guess it was too much to think that the town would actually follow some intelligence as opposed to lynching me for the sake of doing so because I chose not to come up with a convoluted role to try and sell myself as more important to the town.
I'd say good luck to the town, but I think it's too late for that.
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Post by Nathaniel Havok on Apr 7, 2012 10:36:58 GMT -4
I'm just tired of it, and am willing to sacrifice myself if need be. Come on, Mikey... Call the lynch.
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Post by C.J. Gates on Apr 7, 2012 10:39:33 GMT -4
Whatever works for you, Chaz. I tried to tell everyone that you were lynching the wrong person, but no one listened. And then when they did, they decided to listen to Marvin's lies as opposed to the truth. Of course, none of this matters yet, but when I flip town and take Chaz with me, then the scum will be that much closer to winning the game.
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Post by Nathaniel Havok on Apr 7, 2012 11:07:51 GMT -4
If its not to late... unvote.
Something tells me to let TMarv call this one.
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Post by Nathaniel Havok on Apr 7, 2012 11:09:07 GMT -4
EBWOP
UNVOTE
If its supposed to be on a line by itself.
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Post by President Jeff on Apr 7, 2012 11:10:19 GMT -4
Its too late Chaz, once theres enough votes for a Lynch, thats it, no turning back
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Post by Blade on Apr 7, 2012 11:23:15 GMT -4
If its not to late... unvote. Something tells me to let TMarv call this one. lol So it wasnt telling you when it was time to drop the hammer? Just telling you now. Oh, ok.
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Post by Nathaniel Havok on Apr 7, 2012 11:30:17 GMT -4
I've been so wrapped up in work this week, worked 72 hours. So you have to understand why I'm barley able to even play this game lol. I knew when Mr. Callahan sweet talked me into playing, that I was going to bomb. I haven't used my head at all in this game. So if I go down, so be it. Take that lynch and shove it up TMarvs ass. But there's still the possibility that CJs lying his dick off, and I'm worried for no reason.
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Post by Level-Two on Apr 7, 2012 12:10:27 GMT -4
If he's right - we lose. Well, that's assuming there are four scum which I don't think is the case this time around.
And if we lose - you get the branden harvey award.
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Post by Michael Jennings on Apr 7, 2012 19:52:52 GMT -4
Knuckles wants someone to RB me on the assumption that I'm scum. He's wrong, and the RB-er should use it elsewhere. Seriously. Why do you say that? Seems defensive.
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Post by SalTal on Apr 7, 2012 21:06:55 GMT -4
Knuckles wants someone to RB me on the assumption that I'm scum. He's wrong, and the RB-er should use it elsewhere. Seriously. Why do you say that? Seems defensive. I know that because in the lead up to Rasslemania Knuckles and Kash and Callahan and I were makIng jokes about my RP style and whether the 'surprise' I was making was actually a webcam show. Sorry that owning up to his allusions with the truth seems so defensive to you. Next time I'll just not say anything, let Knuckles answer, and have you jump on me for not feasting up. I imagine instead of being called 'defensive' I'll get a vote.
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Post by Michael Callahan on Apr 7, 2012 21:23:43 GMT -4
Welp, with seven votes that is a lynch. Write-up to come tomorrow morning. You have 22 HOURS to send me night actions (midnight GMT today)... with a further explanation.
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Post by Michael Callahan on Apr 7, 2012 21:48:17 GMT -4
With the Hong Kong underworld thrown into abject chaos thanks to the total disaster of the Wang Fou peace talks, Lee Hong had taken extreme action to ensure the survival of his empire. Calling on one of his old French Foreign Legion Friends, Pablo Ochoa, he sought some foreign aid to up his income and strengthen his forces against the rampant assault of an enraged Blue Lotus Triad. Sitting at his desk, Pablo Ochoa deliberates over Hong’s desperate pleas for help as Lee Hong gives the rousing speech of his short, dirty life.
Pablo Ochoa: So you want some of my finest product, at a major discount so you can boost up your boys in Hong Kong? No way vato!
Lee Hong: I have never asked for anything from you Pablo. Our entire operation lies in jeopardy if we fall in Hong Kong. It is one of the few places left that we can operate without being restricted by law enforcement and government. That’s more than you can say out here. You can barely move for CIA agents and other drug lords!
Pablo Ochoa: That maybe, Lee, but you don’t see me snivelling and suckling in the gutter like some puta rat looking for a hand out. I run my business with pride. Maybe if you did the same thing, Dr. Ort-Meyer would have told me not to kill you.
Lee Hong: Kill me?! He wouldn’t dare, YOU wouldn’t dare!
Pablo Ochoa: Oh wouldn’t I? SAY HELLO TO MY LITTLE FRIEND!
With that, Ochoa rises up from his seat armed with an M60 Machine Gun. Without mercy he pours machine gun rounds into Lee Hong, a maniacal cackling as he sends the brutal Red Dragon Leader flying off the balcony and smashing down through the thick jungle foliage into a clearing below. Bleeding and with a shattered leg, Hong with the skin of his teeth survives his tumble but his challenge isn’t over yet. A throaty growling and a jaguar’s roar puts the fear of God into the diktat who’s knocking on Heaven’s door.
Lee Hong: Good kitty... g-
Jungle God: –jaguar roar-
The Jungle God leapt off a rock and onto his robed snack, tearing through his silk gown and juicy flesh with the simplest swipe of his claws. Soon mud and flesh entwine beneath the two, until Lee Hong uses his wits and whips out a poisoned blade and plunges it straight into the heart of the ferocious jungle cat. He continues to claw, but the fatal wound and the sapping poison renders the Jungle God’s tearing all but useless as finally he collapses in a heap.
DEAD: Knuckles, Jungle God, Double Voter/Speech Restrictions
Rapidly going paler and losing blood by the second, Lee Hong pulls himself free of the weighty animal carcass and uses his remaining jots of energy to haul himself up to his feet with a sigh of relief. That is until he sees the U’we Tribesmen, painted indigenous men and women that surround Pablo’s fortress.
Lee Hong: Please... help me... I’m dying...
He staggers towards them, still carrying his blade but his knees buckle underneath him and the blade flies out of his hands towards the chieftain. He picks the finely crafted weapon out of the ground and gives it a primitive grunt before seeing the murdered Jungle God behind him, a gusher of a stab wound in his neck. The Tribesmen gasp in synch, hushed chattering amongst themselves with pointing at the Red Dragon leader. After native chatter discussion, they raise their spears and roar as they set upon to finish the work of their deceased God creature. Butchered by spears and his own poisoned blade, the tribesmen make decisively quick work of Lee Hong, a pile of bloody ribbons in their savage wake.
DEAD: CJ Gates, Lee Hong, Vengeful Syndicate
YOU NOW HAVE JUST OVER 21 HOURS TO GET NIGHT ACTIONS INTO ME.
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Post by Michael Callahan on Apr 8, 2012 20:15:13 GMT -4
HITMAN: MAFIA A BRIDGE OVER TROUBLED WATERS NIGHT FOURHello 47, this is Diana here. We have your final assignment for you here and believe me, it's of vital importance that you do it well. It's come to our attention that one of our executives at the ICA has been captured by our old client, a man who we now know to be notorious genetic scientist Dr. Otto Ort-Meyer. It is absolutely imperative that we retrieve him alive and well as if we don't, we risk a major security breach in our operations. The future of The Agency rests on the success of this task. We must obtain the assistant director back alive, or else. Ort-Meyer has demanded that we personally send you across the Pont Notre Dame with one million dollars in cash in a briefcase for the exchange. However, we're going to do things a little differently than expected...--- An opaque, sanguine veil descended over the capital city of Democracy on this glorious Friday evening, setting an ominouss backdrop for the nights events. The people of Paris make their first staggering steps towards drunken nightlife antics, blissfully unaware of the chaos that's about to unfurl on their city streets. In a Landrover on his sode of the Pont Notre Dame, Dr. Ortmeyer simply awaits the signal with his good friend, assistant director of the ICA bound and gagged next to him. When his phone starts buzzing in his pocket like an arrogant wasp, he knows it's time... --- Overwatching the transaction from a luxurious apartment, way up high is our man himself Mr. Arkadij Jegorov. With a .50 Cal Sniper Rifle that he'd gone to the challenging liberty of smuggling into the country himself, he was all set in place and had a trained eye over the meeting point exactly halfway across the bridge. He was way away from the scene but had the perfect view, like the celebrity balcony box in the theatre. Muttering dark threats to himself, Arkadij lusted after the opportunity to carry out the kill as planned. Arkadij Jegorov: Here we are... Now, my son, 47, you will die... As intent as Arkadij was on putting a hole in the head of the clone assassin, he was not alone and his partner in crime for the evening would prove pivotal in preventing him from assassinating 47. Dressed in nothing but a sultry, svelt set of purple French lace underwear, Mei Ling strutted out onto the balcony behind her hunk of a man with a lit cigarette pressed between her lips. Mei Ling: You know, The Doctor... has his personal army down there with him... You're not really needed... Jegorov, ever the planner, meticulously his Desert Eagle side-arm. He yanks out the cartridge and counts every round, making sure it's ready for action should the need arise. Arkadij Jegorov: I made a promise to watch over the deal. Ort-Meyer will not be pleased if this does not go to plan. Mei Ling was never one to take no for an answer. Wrapping her pink, pouting lips around the barrel of the high power Magnum, she gives her new lover the steamy eyes as she makes a pert suggestion with her mouth on the gun. No man could resist those wile, not even a psychotic killer like Arkadij. Good night, Mr. Gunrunner. --- Back on the bridge, the atmosphere was electric. It was like an old Western Film as the two young bucks, defiant 'til the end made their way across the bridge for the big exchange. Under the watchful eyes of their respective supporters, The Syndicate exchange was lead by the vindictive Columbian drug lord Pablo Ochoa and The Agency was brought forward by to Pablo's surprise, Diana Burnwood. It'd been the first time the Yale graduated had been in the public eye in over a decade and even then, her thick rimmed black hat, sunglasses and dark make up obscured her face sufficiently. Straight to the bargaining table, Diana wanted to see the product. Diana Burnwood: Remove the mask, sir. I want confirmation that this is who you say it is. Pablo Ochoa: You think I'm gonna' listen to you puta? We wanted 47, not you. Diana Burnwood: Agent 47 is a myth to us. I don't know about you and your operations, but we do not know of him and his supposed work. We do not believe he exists. Crouching down low next to an old water tower, Agent 47 took every moment he needed to line up the shot of his career. If he blew this one shot, there would be no second chances. It would mean the end of The Agency. Failure was no longer an option for the superhuman assassin. Every necessary calculation was being taken here, for the mighty shot targeted at someone some quarter of a mile away. Wind speed and direction, the distance of the shot, the range of the round in the chamber and the perfect timing were all elements turning like cogs in the calculating assassin's mind. He watched with baited breath, sweat dripping from his brow as his finger coiled like a deadly serpent around the trigger. His hands started to shake and the slightest bit of doubt crept into his mind until Pablo drew a gun from his blazer pocket. The moment that gun was pointed at Diana, he knew exactly what he needed to do. BANG! The shot rang like a bell as it fired down from the heavens towards its unwitting target, Pablo Ochoa. With the power of a javelin, it cut him down with authority as the round pierced straight through his heart. Survival was simply not an option for him. DEAD: Level One, Pablo Ochoa, Syndicate MachoAs if creating an amplified echo, shots from both sides of the water started flying everywhere as heavy machine gun fire across the water sought to avenge the break-up of the transaction. Diana dropped a smoke grenade at her feet and with the assistant director in tow, she made a b-line for the edge of the bridge to make a death-defying leap into the icy cobalt water below. Plunging in like a torpedo, Diana quickly resurfaced to see a speedboat under the command of Agent Smith powering towards her. The goofball agent pulled both her and the assistant director aboard before taking up the wheel and speeding away as bullets whizzed desperately after them, like piranha nipping at their ankles. As the speedboat made its way off into the distance, Agent Smith grinned a mammoth grin as the satisfaction of the perfect plan coming to fruition kicked in. Agent Smith: You did well, lady. Diana Burnwood: Thanks... Heh. Up on land, the two sides continued to exchange heated suppressing fire to try and make even the death of Pablo Ochoa. Even as the French authorities arrived there was no hesitance in the rapid rattatat of machine gun fire. Their efforts were futile though. 47 had made good his vanishing act as per usual. So too had Dr. Ort-Meyer, The Hong Kong Police Chief and Arkadij Jegorov. Though admittedly, Arkadij didn't make it out unscathed. The Agency however had ruthlessly broken apart The Syndicate and done potentially irreparable damage to the worlds criminal economy. Not bad for a bunch of contract killers eh? THE ENDWINNERS: THE AGENCYSURVIVORS:1. Sally Talfourd, Arkadij Jegorov, Syndicate Vigilante2. JamesV, Dr. Ort-Meyer, Syndicate Roleblocker3. Chaz Dillinger, Hong Kong Chief of Police, Syndicate Cop4. President Jeff, Agent 47, Agency Hitman/Ninja5. Blade, Diana Burnwood, Agency Godfather6. Terry Marvin, Mei Ling, Agency Roleblocker7. Phil Atken, Agent Smith, Agency Role Cop
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