Post
Post #0 (isolation #0) » Sun Jan 29, 2017 1:28 am
Postby Pine »
Pine's Death Trap Mafia
Moderator
: Pine
Back Up Moderater
: Aeronaut
Reviewers
: Firebringer, Mykonian, Mastina
Special Thanks
: Aeronaut, Nexus, and the reviewers for their assistance in getting this running. Cephrir and Firebringer, from whom I shamelessly stole the base ruleset and many formatting aspects.
Player List
Alisae
Grendel
ThinkBig
Akarin
Rautherdir
gerryoat
JarJarDrinks
TheRealGin-N-Tonic
Lil Uzi Vert
nancy
Transcend
Cooperative Sheep
Soumil07
Keyser Söze
Fro99er
Vifam
mattblackguy
RadiantCowbells
* indicates a prod
Spoiler: Fighting for Survival (Alive)
Grendel has survived the deathtrap! He was a
Vanilla Townie
.
nancy has survived the deathtrap! She was a
Vanilla Townie
.
Cooperative Sheep has survived the deathtrap! He was a
Vanilla Townie
.
Fro99er has survived the deathtrap! He was a
Vanilla Townie
.
mattblackguy has survived the deathtrap! He was a
Town Jailkeeper
.
RadiantCowbells has survived the deathtrap! He was a
1-shot Bulletproof Townie
Spoiler: Perished in the Attempt (Dead)
Gerryoat was impaled upon a barbed door! He was a
Town Cop
Alisae was thrown from a high catwalk! He was a
Vanilla Townie
JarJarDrinks was crushed beneath an enormous stone! He was a
Mafia Goon
.
Rautherdir was conveyored into a man-sized blender! He was a
Vanilla Townie
.
Keyser Söze has died, ground into a Townie smoothie. He was a
Vanilla Townie
.
TheRealGin-N-Tonic has died, killed by a backfiring revolver. He was a
Mafia Goon.
ThinkBig has died, with the antidote shoved down his throat and his skull bashed in as a battering ram. He was a
Post
Post #1 (isolation #1) » Sun Jan 29, 2017 1:31 am
Postby Pine »
General Rules
1. The site-wide rules and Boilerplate Mafiascum Game Rules are in play. Please know them.
2. Be nice. I will be the arbiter of what 'nice' is. I am pretty tolerant about this but there is a line.
3. Do not discuss the game outside the game thread, except with the moderator, unless your Role PM specifies that you may do so. Do not discuss other ongoing games in this thread or in any topics you might have access to.
4. You may ask me questions either in the thread or via PM. For some questions, I may be willing to answer via PM but not in-thread for a variety of reasons.
5. Do not quote private communication with me directly. Paraphrasing is acceptable; if you're not sure whether a post violates this rule, ask me or don't post it. You also may not pretend to quote communications with me. This includes your Role PM.
6. My color is
DARK ORANGE
; please don't use it.
7. No dice tags or otherwise provably arbitrary algorithms.
8. Do not attempt to emulate out-of-thread communication using encryption or hidden/obscured text.
9. Don't do things you know you shouldn't do, even if I've neglected to include a rule on the matter. Likewise, attempts to circumvent these rules via semantics will be treated harshly.
10. I reserve the right to warn, force-replace, or modkill as I deem necessary. Don't push it.
11. I reserve the right to add to or change the rules.
Procedural Rules
1. If you wish to vote for a player, please use vote tags or bold tags. That said, if you forget the tags, your vote will still count if it is clear to me that a vote was intended.
2. A player is considered lynched when he or she reaches a number of votes equal to half the number of living players rounded down plus one.
3. You may continue discussion in twilight before I show up and lock the thread. Do not post after I officially state that you are dead.
4. If no majority is reached by deadline there will be No Lynch.
5. Days will have a non-negotiable deadline of 2 weeks. I may choose to extend a deadline in special circumstances, but it's unlikely. Don't count on it.
6. Nights last 48 hours.
7. Prods go out after 48 hours. Failure to post in a timely fashion after a prod, or accumulating several prods, may result in force replacement at my discretion.
8. A single mafia member can both kill and take another action.
9. All Private Topics, including any Mafia factions, have daytalk enabled.
What follows is a sample Vanilla Townie role PM:
Spoiler: VT Role PM
Welcome to Pine's Death Trap! Here's your role information:
You are a
Vanilla Townie
. You have no special powers.
Win Condition: You win if the town eliminates all opposing factions. At least one member of your faction must survive.
Please /confirm in thread. Day One will be started after 12/13 players have confirmed.
Post
Post #66 (isolation #9) » Sun Jan 29, 2017 7:15 pm
Postby Pine »
A dim, flickering light intrudes on the splitting headache that greets you as you slowly wake up. A fresh wave of dizziness greets you as you sit up, surrounded by twelve other people in various stages of their own groggy awakenings. Looking around, you see a moldering old room, appearing to be a stripped-down old storeroom or basement. The only illumination comes from a pair of bare incandescent bulbs hanging from wires on the ceiling. By its dim light, a series of framed portraits, incongruous for their elegance, may be discerned. They depicts a different instrument of torture and interrogation, each more unsettling than the last. A caption beneath each image tells the story of that devious device, delighting in the perverse. A few ratty old couches are the only other furnishings, and an imposing steel door covered in cruelly-barbed spikes bars the only exit.
Yessss...that's it, children, time to wake up! The game is afoot, and the party is ready to begin! Welcome to my humble little maze. Each of you has been injected with a lovely little cocktail which I like to call Pine's Pick Me Up. It shall, of course, kill you.
A fairly ominous silence resonates for a few interminable moments.
"An antidote is available to those who can prove their worthiness, which is to say, those who can most effectively amuse me!
A deep and unsettling laugh echoes around the sparse chamber.
"Of course, the game would be dreadfully simple if it were no more than a puzzle, a game for the insipid and weak. I have therefore elected to introduce a little...healthy competition. Some survival of the fittest, if you will! Some among you have received a little extra perk in your Pick Me Up, a special concoction designed to increase bloodlust and obedience. These, my minions, will only receive the antidote if they can overpower and help me murder the rest of you.
"The first door may be bypassed only with a blood sacrifice. Offer me one of your own, impale them upon the door, and I will...consider...unlocking it.
The mod is a HUGE fan of the word, but rarely uses it. I find that it is a handy shorthand for a fairly sophisticated concept of deduction, reasoning, and comprehension. However, the rarity of the word obviates its utility as a shorthand when it needs to be defined on every use.
I have been pretty regularly targeting VCs for midday and midnight (EST) give or take an hour or two. Do you need them more frequently? The votes are not actually moving as fast as the group seems to think.
Post
Post #674 (isolation #23) » Wed Feb 01, 2017 9:40 am
Postby Pine »
The hours pass eventfully, with many accusations thrown and desperation growing. Each of you can feel a crawling, vaguely burning sensation in your extremities, a sure sign that Pine's Pick Me up is working to achieve its fatal effect.
The arguing and backbiting reaches a fever pitch, and the crowd begins shoving. Some cower in the corner, trying to look small and unthreatening. Others begin grabbing, frantically trying to make sure that someone, anyone, other than themselves is sacrificed to the evil plotter's twisted designs. Finally the scuffle reaches a crescendo, and Gerryoat is thrown forward. As the wickedly sharp tines of the great iron door prod at his back, Gerryoat raises a hand, preparing to scream out a warning. Too late, Vifam barrels into the poor victim without heeding his final plea, impaling him upon the barbs.
Gerryoat twitches pathetically, like a fish on the hook, raising again his outstretched hand. The only sound that escapes is a sickening death rattle, and the light fades from his eyes. A shining golden shield tumbles from his hand as it falls limp by his side.
Gerryoat has died, impaled upon a barbed iron door. He was a
Town Cop
.
Oh, goody! I was hoping it wouldn't take you too long to divest yourselves of that pestilential do-gooder. Very well, I shall release the door, and you are one step closer to your salvation. Think not that this shall be your only loss on the way, my friends!
The door swings slowly open, leaving a thick trail of Gerryoat's blood as his feet trail along the floor. Cautiously, you all file through the door, stepping out onto a long catwalk, high above a shadowed floor. As soon as the last of you step out onto the catwalk, the overhead lights suddenly switch off with an ominous, hollow sound.
Post
Post #676 (isolation #25) » Fri Feb 03, 2017 11:51 am
Postby Pine »
Shouts erupt in the sudden darkness, and a mad scuffle ensues. Noses are bloodied, and many toes are trodden upon. After a subjective eternity, a singular scream pierces the blackness, rapidly fading into the distance below until it cuts off with a dull, meaty
'THUD'
.
The lights immediately flicker on. As you pick yourself, rub bruises, and stanch lacerations, illumination falls upon the broken body of one of your number, shattered on what appears to be the floor of an abandoned warehouse or factory.
Alisae has died, thrown down from a high catwalk. He was a
Vanilla Townie
.
Poor Alisae. Truly, the good die young. A most worthy young lad with the aspect of a most worthy young lass, he shall be surely missed by...well no one, really. You people never really cared, and neither do I!
With more than a little grumbling, the company proceeds across the rest of the catwalk and down a spiral staircase, finding themselves in another room. This room appears to be a small, enclosed office of some kind with a smashed desk and broken, long-obsolete computer in the corner. This room is lovingly adorned with various portraiture of bizarre and obscure methods of execution. The far door is chained and barred shut.
A single scarlet bell cord of satin, much as one might find in the mansions of the wealthy, descends from the ceiling.
Welcome, friends, to your second challenge. The objective here is simple - if you wish to leave, pull on the cord.
Just make sure you choose someone you don't like very much.
An eerie music slowly builds, a sound like that produced from an old music box, or perhaps a street organ grinder. Thin, scratchy lyrics are piped into the abandoned factory:
All around the mulberry bush,
The monkey chased the weasel.
The monkey thought ’twas all in good fun,
Pop! goes the weasel.
A penny for a spool of thread,
A penny for a needle—
That's the way the money goes,
Pop! goes the weasel.
Jimmy’s got the whooping cough
And Timmy’s got the measles.
That’s the way the story goes,
Pop! goes the weasel.
I've no time to wait and sigh
No patience to wait 'til by and by
Kiss me quick, I'm off, goodbye!
Pop! Goes the weasel
At the last
POP!
, a previously-hidden hatch opens in the wall, just large enough to admit a cruelly-barbed crossbow bolt, which flies with unerring accuracy to skewer Lil Uzi Vert through the meaty part of his thigh. Try as he might, there is no way to remove the projectile without excruciating agony.
Mocking your host will NOT be tolerated. You are here as my guests and are required to enjoy my hospitality. Further impertinence will be dealt with savagely.
I would leave that where it is. Tt will cause more damage coming out than going in. Unless it hit the femoral artery. Then you're fucked.
A tense minute or so ticks by.
Haven't bled out yet? Apparently it didn't hit the artery. Pity. That sumbitch can bleed a man dry in minutes. You'll live, for a little while, long enough for the Pick Me Up in your bloodstream to do its work.
Speaking of work and time running out, GET BACK TO WORK!
Post
Post #1745 (isolation #46) » Mon Feb 13, 2017 12:17 pm
Postby Pine »
Following the punishment of Lil Uzi Vert for his impertinence against your host, the group seems to learn its lesson and quickly gets to work. A dark thread of conspiracy and suspicion mars the brief harmony that had begun to form between strangers caught in a life-and-death situation. This ugliness rapidly turns nasty, and the anger focuses on one of you which had, until now, been fairly well-regarded. JarJarDrinks is at first disdainful of the accusations, but they quickly grow in momentum as the group turns on him. JarJarDrinks is relentlessly shoved forward. He quails away from the silken pullcord, regarding it as if it were a fanged serpent. Eventually he is shoved down next to it, falling to his knees, and a hand reaches out to yank the cord. As JarJarDrinks screams and tries to scramble away, the rest of you bolt. A deep gong sound echoes through the room, and a hatch in the ceiling opens, dropping a giant stone onto JarJarDrinks, smashing him into pulp against the floor, shattering a giant hole down to the next level.
JarJarDrinks has died, crushed beneath an enormous stone! He was a
Mafia Goon
.
Oh, how delightful! You will never know how worried I was that that stone might not break through to your next challenge. I spent ages weakening that section of the floor, but these damn factories are always so overbuilt. It sure would have made me silly if I had to come out there myself with a crowbar and help you through! ANYway, feel free to proceed on, don't mind the bloody corpse in the way, good minions are SO hard to come by these days.
The group makes its way down through the hole, climbing down onto the bloody rock into a pitch-black room filled with ominous-looking machinery...
Post
Post #1747 (isolation #48) » Wed Feb 15, 2017 1:41 pm
Postby Pine »
The party descends into the darkened room with care, helping one another to climb through the hole in the floor despite not being able to see more than a few feet into the blackness. What else is there but to go on?
Perhaps surprisingly,
NO ONE
was harmed.
As your eyes adjust to the inky darkness, conveyor belts and unknown machinery resolve into focus. Upon a table some distance into the room is found a pile of torches and a box of matches. Soon, flaming brands are in the hands of each surviving member of the group, and the orange glow of torchlight illumines the room. Arrayed among the equipment are a number of elegantly-framed portraits of murderers through the ages, each with a small caption describing their escapades.
Unremarkable factory appliances sit covered in dust, and the door of the only exit appears to have been replaced with another heavy iron slab. Just looking at the barred portal, it is obvious that there is no way to force it open, though several of you try.
Well, well, well! It looks like my little minions among you have been slacking yet again. Perhaps I erred in choosing them! Damnable disappointment. First one gets killed, then the rest fail to entertain me? Come on, kids, the dark room was a perfect setup. I disapprove.
"Ah well. At least this time I'll see some blood. In a moment, I'll turn one of these conveyors on. Simply send one of your number along on it, and you will be one step closer to your freedom. Ta!"
True to his word, a conveyor belt not far from the iron door whirrs to life, a few dull lightbulbs flickering on next to it. Peering down the shaft, the conveyor crawls through the wall into the darkness of the next room
Post
Post #1775 (isolation #50) » Wed Feb 15, 2017 2:20 pm
Postby Pine »
I was hoping the intervention of a night phase would cool tempers and distance you folks a little, but my patience with the personal attacks wears thin. I have zero qualms about force-replacing people should unwarranted and personal issues continue to be a primary means of discourse.
Post
Post #2011 (isolation #53) » Fri Feb 17, 2017 3:27 am
Postby Pine »
Indeed, the pansy Normal review committee has decided to make Godfathers non-Normal because it involves moderators giving inaccurate information to players. Weenies. GF used to be normal, and I consider it a fairly integral part of balancing Cops and other robust investigators.
Consider this mod-confirmation that the game qualifies as Normal, despite the thematics.