[END] The Syndicate's 2013 Game of Champions

Who deserves to win?

Poll ended at Sat Mar 01, 2014 11:44 pm

bea
15
65%
Boomslang
8
35%
 
Total votes: 23
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Re: [END] The Syndicate's 2013 Game of Champions

#4561

Post by Russtifinko »

Lizzy wrote::dance:
Alex, mate, I just wanted to say that hosting a small game is exhausting, and there's two of us, but holy fu! You're mad! :hugs: I have no idea how you do it. Alone too. :eek:(So Russti, good luck!)
Thanks!

DharmaHelper wrote:I want to thank my team and the host foremost. BF and Rusti you guys were a blast to work with and scheme with. I feel like I do owe some explanations so I will try to cover everything-ish in this post.

Firstly, I want to clear up the Sinister Exaggerator thing for everyone. A.P flipped his shit in the thread and got himself killed intentionally, something MP thought was entirely unfair for our team, so he tweaked that role to give us some compensation. In actuality, he wanted to tweak the role even further, but we talked him down. So that would be why the Exaggerations were constant even after AP's death. I apologize if anyone thought that was unfair, but BF, Rusti, Myself, and MP all came together to work that out and try to recover from AP's flip out.

Secondly - Actually coming up with creative Exaggerations was so much fun. We thought it would be a brilliant idea to fake a couple kills, and then we got the idea to start faking Moriarty reveals, which put us firmly in control of the flow of information. The Lizzy lynch was my crowning achievement on this site. Setting her up and then knocking her down was really satisfying :P We would have gotten away with it as well if it wasn't for the darn rezz poll! One day/night cycle later and Lizzy would have been done. We also faked the merger of the two mafias. We tried to write our Exaggerations keeping in mind people's reactions, so we could look for clues as to who people were.

Most of our kills were redirected, I think. We never once directly tried to kill SVS, and twice we ended up targeting her. I don't think Nev was our original target either, but when he survived, and reacted the way he did, we thought we could use some exaggerations to flush him out.

I'm probably missing some stuff (Rusti was really good at picking words for us to use to boost our votes!). I felt pretty confident in my position prior to the Red Room. I think if the dead had not been so vindictive I would have had a semi decent shot at winning. The Red Room took our whole team, and our kill with it. Would have been a completely different landscape.
First off, DH played like a true champ this entire game. I hope the night posts he wrote are posted to the thread soon, because they were absolutely brilliant. He was the heart and soul of our team, and he did a terrific job in-thread as well as with night actions, in my opinion.

DH and BF, I was pissed when Epi and llama decided to invite you guys to the Room. Because of the bloc, there was nothing I could do, and not voting either of you would probably have made it obvious who I was (I guess it really didn't matter at that point, since our team was doomed to die anyway). I kept trying to use my power to rez you, but i could only rez within the Red Room.

This was an awesome and mindblowing game, and I'm really grateful to MP for taking on such an epic challenge and doing even better with it than I imagined.
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Re: [END] The Syndicate's 2013 Game of Champions

#4562

Post by Russtifinko »

A Person wrote:I had actually had been completely carried away and forgot I wasn't supposed to edit, so sorry about that, teammates. :blush:
Maybe I'm used to seeing some others edit clandestinely ;)
It's, ok, AP! I admit I was pissed you were gone, but when you were editing I thought it was hilarious and was actually trying to figure out how to do it as well. :haha: So I guess I'm just lucky for being stupider than you.
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Re: [END] The Syndicate's 2013 Game of Champions

#4563

Post by timmer »

I took great joy in incinerating Epignosis ;) I also took great joy in almost incinerating DH, despite the fact I had actually targeted SD lol...
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Re: [END] The Syndicate's 2013 Game of Champions

#4564

Post by timmer »

This was a great game MP!!! I enjoyed being trusty lol, but I was sure DH was Zodac for the longest time... :eek:
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Re: [END] The Syndicate's 2013 Game of Champions

#4565

Post by A Person »

Russtifinko wrote:
A Person wrote:I had actually had been completely carried away and forgot I wasn't supposed to edit, so sorry about that, teammates. :blush:
Maybe I'm used to seeing some others edit clandestinely ;)
It's, ok, AP! I admit I was pissed you were gone, but when you were editing I thought it was hilarious and was actually trying to figure out how to do it as well. :haha: So I guess I'm just lucky for being stupider than you.
I had an edit button on my posts, I have no idea why.

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Re: [END] The Syndicate's 2013 Game of Champions

#4566

Post by S~V~S »

Some people did, some did not. I think it had to do with when you joined. I spent like HOURS trying to figure out the permissions, and WHY it happened, but I finally gave up, and just fixed it :D
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Re: [END] The Syndicate's 2013 Game of Champions

#4567

Post by Mongoose »

Why can no one ever read me?

</whine>
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Re: [END] The Syndicate's 2013 Game of Champions

#4568

Post by thellama73 »

For the record, I wanted to state that I did not lie about my insanification.

Thanks for the game, MP!
Epignosis wrote:If llama is good, it means we exist in a universe in which multitasking llama can call out the first of two mafia while simultaneously calling out two civilians.

I don't want to live in that universe.
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Re: [END] The Syndicate's 2013 Game of Champions

#4569

Post by Hedgeowl »

Mongoose wrote:Why can no one ever read me?

</whine>
I felt so bad that my shining contribution to the game was to get you lynched. I was pretty sure from the beginning with your interaction with Llama that you were baddie, but didnt want to bring it up right away since I wasn't sure. :hug:

As Henderson, The only threat to me I knew of was lynches and Creeper. I figured as long as I wasn't too suspicious I had a good chance of lasting quite a while. I assumed that if I was targeted and it redirected that baddies would figure out my role and realize I had to be lynched instead. Not sure I was ever targeted for an NK though, so I kept waiting for people to start trying to get me lynched, but they were all civ/Indy lol.

Juliets as usual played an excellent game. I really didnt know about her and she defends herself so well. Lizzy you were so right about DH and I was so trusting for the time being, but so wrong about me. :sigh:

Glad Elo that I went out as the final Creepsplosion of glory at least! :D

Thanks for a truly amazing and complex game MP. I loved my role so much. (No PMs and I couldn't be NK'd) :biggrin:
Turnip Head wrote: We need to lynch Pennsylvania Bitch.
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Re: [END] The Syndicate's 2013 Game of Champions

#4570

Post by Draconus »

:yay: Way to go Civvies, Zodak, and Sander Cohen!!!!! :fiesta:
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Re: [END] The Syndicate's 2013 Game of Champions

#4571

Post by Draconus »

That was a lot of fun!!! Thanks for a great last game, Alex!!!

Laters! ;airguitar:
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Re: [END] The Syndicate's 2013 Game of Champions

#4572

Post by DharmaHelper »

Big post incoming
Moriarty, Night One wrote: Champions...

The word was supposed to mean something, to denote some sort of expertise, to bring weight and glory and respect. And yet these sniveling, bumbling, drooling little ants were being called champions. When he'd received his invitation, Moriarty was intrigued, expecting a challenge of intellect, cunning, and ruthlessness. Imagine his disappointment to learn that the only Holmes that had come to face him was not Sherlock, his most entertaining friend, but Mycroft, the drab and predictable brother. Perhaps his only consolation was that he would be paired with minds equally as cunning and ruthless as his own from, it seemed, multiple dimensions. The 'voice' that had brought them all together seemed very intent on playing a game with them all, and if there was one thing Moriarty enjoyed in the world, it was games. Their first destination, some place called "Rapture", appealed to Jim's more chaotic fancies. He became giddy with excitement imagining such a perfect little playhouse getting smashed and destroyed and decayed from the inside, and corrupting itself into chaos. If he wasn't so intent on world domination, he might have considered taking up residence in Rapture. Jim made a note to the consider the place for a vacation home, at least.

"Alright gentlemen!" he called to his comrades once they had a moment alone, his arms outstretched in welcome. "Time to do what we do best." Jim paced around the dark, dank corner of Arcadia they were hiding in, his hands now folded behind his back. As he paced, he began to skip spontaneously, jumping and humming a mad, cheery tune. Casually, beautifully, Moriarty plucked an abandoned teacup seemingly from out of nowhere and began to mime sipping from the cup as he twirled and humed around his friends, whose expressions became increasingly exasperated and confused. Without warning, Jim's gleeful demeanor turned furious, and he slammed the cup down onto the ground, shattering it. He stomped on the shards for good measure, grunting with each strike.

"No no no no no no NO!" He shouted. "The game is no FUN if you're not going to PLAY!" From out of his coat pocket, Jim withdrew slips of paper with the names of everyone participating in The Voice's game. He'd taken meticulous notes on everyone whilst they were distracted, searching desperately for any weaknesses. Moriarty folded the slips in both of his hands like the petals of a flower, and began plucking names from his grasp.

"He loves me...he loves me not...he loves me...she loves me not." Moriarty licked one of the sheets before slapping it on his forehead to reveal the name "BEA". He then resumed searching through the sheets until he found the notes he was looking for and threw the rest of them into the air like twisted confetti.

"I think....I think we need to make an example out of someone. Show the rest of the 'players,' And the Voice, that we mean business. Taking out bea will be a good start! And then the fun part!"

Jim flipped the note in his hand over and dangled it in front of his new friends. It read "EPIGNOSIS"

"Mummy always said you shouldn't keep secrets.." Jim's voice warped, mimicing a pouting child.

In his tirade, Moriarty failed to notice a third piece of paper, stuck to the first by some capricious whim of fate, or perhaps just a bit too much saliva, that had plastered itself to his forehead as well. The name on the sheet was "DisgruntledPorcupine". Moriarty stalked off into Rapture, followed by his still-silent cronies and unaware of their private thoughts. The Exaggerator, in particular, had seen the paper, and his eyes gleamed as he plotted the spiny creature's demise.
----

I'd like to kill bea and DP
and Expose Epignosis
Moriarty, Night Two wrote: Moriarty was furious. Back in his realm, in London, he controlled every aspect of his criminal empire with a finesse that was unmatched by all except his truest of friends, his near and dear Sherlock Holmes. But here, in The Voice's world, he'd been paired with a madman, a loose cannon, a complete and utter whack job. Coming from Moriarty, that said something. And so when The Sinister Exaggerator threw himself wildly into the flames of defeat, Jim burned with rage, though he dare not betray his emotions in front of his new playthings. When at long last he and his remaining team were once again alone, this time now in a world called Eternia, Jim felt comfortable enough to let his freak flag fly. He grabbed anything in sight: rocks, twigs, animals, anything he could get his hands on and throw a considerable distance.

"Make a fool out of James 'The Motherfucker' Moriarty will we? We'll see about that my friends. We will just SEE about THAT." Jim cupped his hands over his mouth and let out a whooping call into the sky. "YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO Come out come out and PLAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYY!" he called, and the world around them stood still for a moment before flickering, as the Voice appeared, annoyed.

"So glad you could join us Mister Voice." Jim greeted their mysterious friend. "As you've no doubt surmised, We're a bit short staffed." Jim made a point to count out his friends, and highlighted an empty space of air where the Exaggerator should have been.

"Yes I can see that. What did you want me to do about it." replied the Voice.

"Simple really. We're all in agreement that the Exaggerator got what was coming to him. Bad form, and all. But as a collection of villainous champions from all across time and space we could not help but wonder: What if?" Jim's face curled into a sick smile as he paced around the area where the Voice had materialized.

"Make your point, Moriarty. I grow bored."

"Yes well so do we, without the talents of our friend the Exaggerator. He was annoying, this much is ture, k. But his mistake should not cost us our chaotic advantage over our enemies. Grant us his powers from beyond the grave and we shall prove ourselves true champions." Moriarty seemed quite full of himself, and proud of his request.

"So it shall be." The Voice finally said after a moment of reflection, before it's presence vanished from the area. Moriarty let out a boyish giggle before turning his attentions back to Rumpelstiltskin and Catherine Martell, his remaining compatriots.

"Right, so as we agreed, lets expose the secrets of Epignosis, how fitting since we find ourselves in his most favorite place of all." Jim spun around in place, showcasing the lovely landscape. "And, if I may make a suggestion, let us cast doubt on dear Lizzy by making her appear as Jack Torrence. This will hopefully bring to light the possibility that Jack can get recruited by that butler fellow. And if the Real Jack tries to send a message to the thread that Lizzy is not him, It will still make Lizzy look suspicious and may flush Jack out."

As Moriarty outlined and discussed his schemes with his friends, he began to think of how much fun he was having. So. Much. Fun.

----------------

As we said before (in error :P ) We'd like to use my ability on Epignosis to expose him to the thread.

I also have a suggestion for the exaggerator ability: Fake expose Lizzy as Jack Torrence. This can help us by casting a lot of doubt into the thread (Is Lizzy Jack? Is Jack Recruited? If this was faked, did they fake it so that Lizzy seemed civ? etc) This is up for change if you guys want to change it.

Also Russ, the word I think we should use for D3 is "universe." what with the game being masters of the universe
Moriarty, Night Three wrote:[As always team, feel free to add any changes]

The world around them was like fluid. Shifting colors and shapes surrounded them all, and even the laws of gravity seemed to be moot in this new "Avant" realm. Jim cocked his head quizzically, observing everyone's confusion. Rumpelstiltskin and Catherine Martell seemed disoriented as well, perhaps even mesmerized by their environment. To Jim Moriarty however, this shifting world of chaos was the only place they'd been that had made any sense at all. Finally, he thought, they were in a world just as crazy as he was. The thought of leaving such a place behind filled Moriarty with almost uncontrollable rage, which he promptly decided he would have to release on one of their unsuspecting opponents. Moriarty searched through the notes he'd collected on everyone, eager to find their next victim. He scratched, sniffed, licked, and bended the pages upon pages of notes until he was satisfied, withdrawing one particular name. Then he turned to face his friends and outline his plan.

"Alright chaps, Here's the deal. Our scheme to eliminate Lizzy was predictably successful. Although what could you expect really? I am a genius amongst such sad, ordinary people." At that remark, both Rumpelstiltskin and Catherine gave him a dirty look, to which Moriarty responded by placing his hands up to calm the pair. "Of course, of course, you helped as well! I'm only just saying. Just saying!" Jim let out a good chuckle remembering how the foolish little hamsters ate so greedily from his hands, eliminating Lizzy at the slightest hint she might be Jack Torrence. The sweet irony of it all was Lizzy's true identity as The Other Holmes. As the brainless mob dispersed from the scene of Lizzy's lynch, Moriarty recalled staring longingly into Mycroft's cold dead eyes and whispering "Do give my love to Sherlock, won't you?"

Pulling himself back from the fond memory of victory, Moriarty once more set about his speech.

"You all know what they say, a magician never does the same trick twice. And so tonight I think we ought to play a different trick. Rumpelstiltskin, you know a thing or two about deception. I did enjoy your suggestion that we stage a kill. Perhaps a failed attempt on the life of Nevinera? Yes I think that would do quite nicely. And our real kill of course belongs to the beautiful Kate."

Moriarty flaunted his notes on both Nevinera and Kate, chuckling even louder than before. When he was finished, he tucked the notes into his coat pocket and took a good look around.

"You know, I really am going to miss this place."

-------

I figure we can kill Kate, and use the Exaggerator to fake a failed kill attempt on Nev. Since we failed to kill Nev the night we got redirected, and there are only non-civ roles that can avoid/absorb multiple Night Kills. Trusty John the civ causes 2 days in a row when he is targeted, so Nev is ruled out as being civ. Win win for us.

Given that, I think our word of the day should be "multiple"
Moriarty Night Four wrote:"It's-a Me, Moriarty!"

Somehow, somewhere, Moriarty had managed to get his hands on a red Mario cap, and the rest was academic. He'd even found himself a fake mustache. From then on, Moriarty popped in and out of the various green tubes spread out across their new surroundings, occasionally getting the jump on Rumpelstiltskin or Catherine. When he wasn't indulging in his giddy fantasies, he was nowhere to be seen. After a good long while of searching for him, Rumpelstiltskin and Catherine found themselves resting against one of the green pipes, exhausted. Just then, Moriarty popped out, grabbed them both by the collars of their shirts and drew them into the pipes. The trio slid downwards, ending up in what looked like a secret lair. Jim had taken it upon himself to do a bit of redecorating. A stack of coins was in the center of the secret level, and brick blocks were scattered all along the floor. Moriarty picked himself up off the ground, shook some dirt away, and strode over to one such block, smacking it. After a short chime of music, a cup of tea emerged from the block. Rumpelstiltskin and Catherine looked on, dumbfounded.

"It's simple really." Moriarty explained, taking a seat on one of the bricks. "Once you know the rules of the game, once you really understand, it becomes easy to break them." He chuckled quietly to himself as he watched Rumpelstiltskin and Catherine get up and survey their surroundings.

"Where are we, Jim?" Catherine asked, her eyes wide.

"I believe the term is Easter Egg.." Moriarty replied, finishing his tea. "I found this place while everyone was losing their shit over Flyin' High's death. Nobody will notice we're plotting and scheming down here." As he spoke, Moriarty tapped another brick, producing his trusty notes. His mastery of the Voice's universes was becoming quite alarming, though of course it was to be expected from a man with his intellectual brilliance. Rumpelstiltskin and Catherine quietly wondered between the two of them just what the long term effects of exposing himself to the Voice's game would be. Jim was already mad as a hatter, but their constantly changing surroundings and the ever looming threat of death seemed to be driving him further and further into insanity. They jointly decided to keep their concerns to themselves, electing to see what new plot Moriarty had cooked up in his alone time.

"Back home, my dearly beloved Sherlock and I used to play a delightful game. I would lay out teeeeeeeeeeeeeny tiny little clues for him to think about, and he - being a boring little bumble bee - would buzz and buzz and buzz his way to the solution. Sometimes I would be naughty and lay out some wrong clues." Moriarty pouted his lips and wagged his finger in disapproval of himself.

"Thus is the case with Neverina. If we can't kill him, why not let the town do it for us. It worked with Lizzy." Rumpelstiltskin and Catherine nodded in quiet agreement, no one daring to mention Lizzy's imminent return. Their plan to get rid of her had gone over so well, only to be undone by a mushroom, of all things. Moriarty flipped through his notes and found his next plan.

"And then for to accompany our set up of Neverina, I suggest revealing BWT for all to see."
------

Exaggerating Nev to look like the Big Daddy role
Moriarty revealing BWT

not sure what the word should be. My suggestion is "champion"
Moriarty Night Five wrote:The door to 221B was flung open with tremendous force, wood splintering all across the floor of the flat. When the smoke cleared, Moriarty stood in the doorway with a devilish grin on his face. He'd been waiting far too long for the Voice to bring them here, to his most favorite place of all. At first, when the city of London began to take shape around them, Jim could barely believe it. For so long they had toiled and plotted and schemed in mystical, fantastical worlds. And yet in each of those worlds there was not a soul capable of completing him. No one man, woman, or being across all the galaxies in all the universes in all reality came close to competing with the brilliance and the vision Moriarty possessed. No one, that is, with one noteworthy exception.

"Honey, I'm hooooooooooooooooooome..." Moriarty taunted from the doorway, his eyes darting back and forth madly. He stepped gingerly over the debris and through the smoke caused when he had kicked the door down, mimicking the walk of a cartoon burglar. "And I've brought friends.

Rumpelstiltskin and Catherine Martell followed after Moriarty, fanning out across the flat. When their quarry revealed himself, leaping from the shadows pistol in hand, Rumpelstiltskin simply waved his arm dismissively, sending the gun flying off and across the floor. Another wave of his hand and their foe was forced backwards into a recliner, then wrapped in the curtains to secure him in place. Moriarty barely seemed to notice, letting out a "Tut-Tut" without even looking. His eyes were fixed on the pictures displayed on the walls and tables of the flat. Pictures of John Watson and Sherlock bloody Holmes.

"You look well, Sherlock." Moriarty said finally, bouncing on his heels excitedly as he fixed his eyes on a restrained Holmes.

"Psychotic as ever, Jim." Sherlock replied cooly, glancing around the room no doubt trying to calmly work out a way to escape his current position. Jim chuckled, and made his way to the kitchen, having Rumpelstiltskin pull the chair and its contents along with them. Rummaging through the place, Jim managed to find an apron that read "Kiss the Cook". He donned the apron proudly, and set about collected things to make eggs. Once he had all the ingredients and supplies necessary, Jim lit the stove and began to cook, humming to himself. He took an egg in his hands gingerly, and began tapping it on the counter, rotating it so that as he did so, a hairline crack began to form around the circumference of the egg.

"You know, I can always count on you to be just silly enough, Sherlock. Of course you couldn't resist the opportunity to show off to these lot." Moriarty casually waved an egg around the room, indicating Rumpelstiltskin and Catherine, but implying of course the entirety of The Voice's participants.

"But did you really think you could show off in front of me and get away with it? For shame Sherlock, for shame." Moriarty clicked his tongue against his teeth repeating the tutting from earlier, and as he spoke he forcefully split the egg in half, letting the yolk spill into the pan below.

"How do you take your eggs, Sherlock?" Sherlock simply starred out in silence, though it was clear to Jim that his friend's mind was working at full capacity, racing to think of the answer. It was disappointingly predictable. For all of Sherlock's good qualities, he was never one for games. If Jim wanted to get his friend to play along, he was going to have to be persistent. Ignoring his duties as chef for just a moment, Jim pressed the heel of his boot against the chair and tipped it ever so slightly backwards, then forwards, then backwards again. He shook the chair furiously, but Sherlock would not respond.

"Oh come on! You and I both know you're not going to get out of this until I'm done so stop trying. Just enjoy yourself for once, Holmes. Have some goddamn eggs!" At that, Rumpelstiltskin and Catherine both let out a laugh, shortly joined by Jim himself. "Turn that frown upside down." Moriarty sang, flipping the egg in the pan as he did so.

"D'ya know why I'm here yet?" he asked, glancing back at Holmes.

"Yes." was all he said, monotone as ever.

"Go on, say it. You know you want to." Moriarty returned to his sing-song voice, waving his spatula in Sherlock's face.

"I don't have to say it, it's obvious." Sherlock flinched, and for a moment, a flicker of a scowl made its way across his face.

"Obviously." cooed Jim.

"Obviously." echoed Sherlock, his tone growing in smugness. Moriarty returned to his eggs, humming as he did.

"That's the thing about people - ordinary people, I mean, not like you and I, - they can't help themselves. They see the truth, right in front of their faces, and all they can do is drool at it. Give them a little poke," Moriarty prodded the scrambled eggs with his spatula for effect. "And off the shuffle, leaving a trail of drool in their wake until they hit another wall of truth to stare at, gawking like children."

Moriarty finished his first batch of eggs, sliding the result onto a plate and passing it to Catherine, who took her meal happily. He then cracked another egg into the pan, and began the process once more.

"Solve one simple little code and suddenly you're the man with the stick. Poke, poke, poke, drool drool drool, truth truth...truth." Moriarty seemed to be enjoying himself increasingly, and Sherlock all the while remained stoic, studying the world around him.

"That's why I love this game so much, Sherlock." Moriarty put down the spatula, wiped his hands on his apron, and began cutting up red peppers.

"Game?" Sherlock replied, perhaps genuinely confused. Moriarty ignored him, and placed the diced peppers into the pan with a smile.

"They say ignorance is bliss. If that's true then this..." Moriarty stuck his arms out and spun around, "..is the happiest place on earth." Moriarty finished the rest of his cooking in silence, passing plates to Rumpelstiltskin and then finally, placing a dish in front of Sherlock himself.

"Something's missing.." Moriarty tapped his fingers against his chin, pretending to ponder his predicament.

"John will be home any minute, or Mrs. Hudson. I'm curious who will arrive first: they to us or you to your point." Moriarty beamed as Sherlock began to show signs of playing along, at last!

"That's a good sport Sherlock. But we've delayed your flatmates for a good long while I'm afraid. Wouldn't want them interrupting the show." Jim reached into his coat pocket, withdrawing a cellular phone. A few tapes later, and he placed the phone on the table in front of Sherlock. It displayed a CCTV view of all the people the Voice had brought to London. They were gathered about like sheep, discussing and waiting and whatever else it was boring ordinary people did.

"Dinner and a movie. You get to enjoy your meal whilst you watch me kill one...or is it two... of your precious junior detectives." Jim leaned into the table, glaring at Sherlock as the two of them wordlessly sized each other up. Then Moriarty embraced Sherlock in a friendly, almost loving hug as he whispered

"I missed you so much, old friend."

_______________

We'd like to kill Aces

In addition, we'd like to Exaggerate a kill on Juliets, the details of which I suggest be the following:

- Juliets is walking alone down Ripper Street
- She is ambushed by a man (Manipulator) dressed in a trench coat and deer stalker
- The man is carrying a large knife, a butchers cleaver maybe.
- The man slices Juliet up like crazy, and leaves her dead on the street, after cutting a smile on her face.
Moriarty Night Six wrote:Even by Moriarty's standards, this place was gross. Rumpelstiltskin must have agreed, because rather than share in his teams torment and misery he decided to spend the weekend in the Marriot Hotel. to make up for his absence, Jim had collected a pile of hamburger meat and mushed it together until it vaguely resembled the tricky little bastard. To clear up any confusion, he'd also hung a cardboard sign around the figures neck with "RUMPELSTILTSKIN" written sloppily in black marker. Moriarty, Catherine, and Rumpelburger gathered in yet another "Easter Egg" location, safe from the spinning saw blades and pit falls that plagued the rest of the players. Hanging in the entryway to their hideout was yet another cardboard sign; this one stapled to the wall and reading "Marriot Hotel". Clearly the "game's" most recent events, coupled with the departure from London, did not bode well for Jim's sanity. Jim sat up against the wall, flanked on either side by Catherine and Rumpelburger, pondering their next move.

"I think our next course of action is obvious." Jim began, wrapping an arm around the deformed shoulders of Rumpelburger. "We continue doubling down on our information reveals, sewing hysteria and confusion in the process." Rumpelburger had no objections, but Catherine Martell seemed marginally less satisfied.

"But Jim, they know the information is false. We helped them decode it!" she argued, but Jim simply smiled, withdrawing his trusty notepad once more.

"Ah but that my dear Catherine is the point. They know we've been fabricating our reveals, but they do not know which ones we've been fabricating. By maintaining the facade we control the flow of information. Everything we reveal goes from having a fifty percent chance of being true, to an incalculable chance of being anything. Only we have the real information, and therefore, only we have the power." Jim leaned slightly into Rumpelburger, causing a hunk of his meat pile to slide off onto the floor. Making a disgusted face, Moriarty wiped his hands on his coat and tried to play it cool, as if poor Rumpelburger had fallen to pieces accidentally.

"The stage is already set my dear. The script is written. Now the question becomes who do we cast in our comedy of errors?" Moriarty began once more to flip through the pages of detailed notes, sticking the unwanted ones deep into Rumpelburger's meaty insides. When he found the few pages he was looking for, he nodded quietly to himself before revealing his selections to Catherine.

"The Queen." he said simply, turning a page over in his hands to reveal a plethora of notes regarding Spacedaisy. "Murdered by the nasty King James and Princess Catherine, so that they might take the throne for themselves." Jim flicked the paper out of his hands and seemed to be mesmerized as he watched it flutter to the floor before turning the next page over.

"In their genius, the evil King James and Princess Catherine let out a decree to all the lords and ladies of the land, marking Lady SVS for who she really was, in the hopes that in doing so they would rid the realm of her meddling influence. And to mask their intentions for the lady, they decided to find a lowly peasant girl named Elochin, and turn her into a beautiful princess. They showered her with praise, gifting her many fancy dresses and rare diamonds. They even gave her a new name: Princess Lucy."

Moriarty was becoming swept up in his own narrative, and so was Catherine. It was such a compelling tale that even simple old Rumpelburger could not dare turn away. Jim chuckled, sitting back down and glancing out from the Easter Egg to a view of the whole level. Somewhere out there, Dr. Fetus had hidden away Bandage Girl, but that did not concern Jim or his friends in the slightest. Jim's vision lay far beyond this world, and all the others they'd visited before. His machinations and plotting thusfar had all been part of a much larger scheme; dominoes being placed in just the right spot waiting for just the right moment. And once he found a way to get what he wanted, not even the Voice could stop him.

"Long live the King." he whispered.
_________________

We'd like to reveal SVS
We'd like to fake reveal Eloh as Lucy
We'd like to kill Spacedaisy

"Cast" is my suggestion for the word of the day if that is ok with everyone?
Moriarty Night Seven wrote:The death of Rumpelstiltskin, predictably, had not gone over well with James Moriarty. And to make matters worse, the Voice had dumped them all in a world devoted to a far less intelligent mind than Moriarty had ever encountered previously. MacGyver, they called him, and he seemed to be idolized for his ability to twist a paper clip into a funny shape. To put this "MacGyver" in the same category is Jim or his best of friends Sherlock Holmes was insulting, and an addition to a long list of grievances that Jim planned to bring to the Voice's attention quite soon. For now he bit his tongue, and agonized over their next move. Catherine and Jim sat in a conference room that Jim had constructed entirely of duct tape. It had taken a great deal of time and effort and not all the dimensions were entirely accurate, but it would suffice to keep out prying eyes. Catherine sat uncomfortably on a duct-tape chair while Moriarty stood, grasping the disembodied head of Rumpelstiltskin in his hands dramatically.

"Alas poor Yorik! I knew him fellatio. Wait, wait that's not right..." Moriarty placed the head of his deceased friend down on the table and flipped through a script he'd found, scanning the pages for the correct line. He tapped the pad of his finger onto the page when he found it, picking up the head and starting once more.

"Alas poor Yorik! I knew him, Horatio!." Jim paused dramatically, his head turned towards the heavens and his eyes shut in silent prayer. After a few seconds, he opened his left eye just slightly, peeking to see Catherine's reaction. Sjhe simply sat in silence, quietly amused.

"Yes, well.." Jim began, taking his own seat. "I have quite the plan for tonight my dear. I've decided to kill Spacedaisy with some good old fashioned POISONED duct tape!" Moriarty slammed a roll of duct tape down on the table made from duct tape dramatically.

"Hahaha, not really. But could you imagine? No no we'll probably just shoot her or something normal psychopaths would think of." The real genius of his plan involved invoking the Exaggerator in a new creative way. Jim once again beckoned the Voice to come forth, and so he did. After a brief discussion, the Voice left hurriedly, and considerably annoyed.

"I think it's time we sent these little mice scurrying. Remind them what a real detective is." Moriarty began scribbling on a piece of note paper and after a few minutes, produced a rather interesting riddle.

"Let's see what they can make of this." He said, chuckling
---

Would like to kill Spacedaisy.
Would also like to use the Exaggerator to directly (As Moriarty) Confront, ridicule, and challenge the players to solve this: Z rd rj jyrgvcvjj rj kyv nrmvj fw fcu lecvjj leuvi kyv kfity fw rgfccf. nyve Z rd sfie Z rd fev slk nyve Z uzv Z rd drep. Jfdv trcc dv r jrzek reu fkyvij r jzeevi. Jfcmv kyzj izuucv ze kzdv reu pfl'cc sv kyv nzeevi. Nyrk zj jzo rk fetv reu fev jzo kzdvj lecvj ivmvijvu reu dlckzgczvu? Kyv drjfej trcc reu uvru nzcc izjv slk fecp nyve pfl tcfjv pfli vpvj.

Hint for MP: There is no answer, this is just some bullshit
Moriarty Night Nine wrote:"Road trip!" Moriarty shouted, steering the RV he and Catherine had commandeered wildly across the highway. His foot was pressed firmly down upon the gas pedal, and he swerved madly to avoid any crashes. Catherine seemd unfazed by the whole spectacle, having grown used to Moraiarty's episodes of madness. The Voice had given them a list of locations to visit in America, which Jim had taken rather literally. Having only ever been to America when he needed a good laugh, Jim was eager to dive into the myriad of cultures and other interesting things that the country had to offer. He was not at all sarcastically looking forward to laying eyes on the world's biggest sandbox, for example. His only solace in this romp around the terribly uncultured civilization known as America was that his friend and confidant Rumpelstiltskin would not be subjected to such an abhorrent perversion of the human condition. Word around the participants was that this particular trip down memory lane was encouraged by American Gods. Moriarty's response to this was of course to decale himself an English God, and proceed to systematically mock and torment everyone he came in contact with. Moriarty beckoned for Catherine to make her way up the RV to his side, as he had some very important things to say but felt it prudent not to take his eyes off the road, lest some lunatic crash into them.

"Catherine my dear, I've been crunching the numbers and I think it's time for a change in course." Jim had to raise his voice over the honking of horns and the revving of engines. "According to my deductions there can only be one logical target tonight."

Catherine struggled to keep on her feet due to Moriarty's sporadic driving, but kept her balance with some effort. She looked at Jim perplexed. "Who is that?"

"Hedgeowl of course." Moriarty said, as if the answer was obvious. He did not take his eyes off the road.

"How do you propose we kill Hedgeowl exactly?" Catherine poked Jim on the shoulder, somewhat annoyed. "We're in the middle of the highway, surrounded by witnesses, and by the time we reach our destination it will be too late!"

Jim simply smiled, and then laughed heartily. "I've already made plans to see to it that Hedgeowl doesn't make the trip! And to conceal our involvement quite nicely." He continued to laugh, but Catherine remained skeptical.

"What plans?!" she shouted, over the growing noise of the highway. Just then, Moriarty spun the steering wheel wildly, sending the RV skidding across the highway. The RV collided with a number of cars, causing even more cars to swerve to avoid the mass of tangled metal and shattering glass. They flipped along the road, and honks were soon replaced by screams. Fires broke out all along the scene of the wreckage. When the RV finally stopped flipping and skidding across the highway, it lay motionless along the shoulder. A few minutes passed, and Moriarty climbed out of the wreckage, looking quite proud of himself.

"YOU LUNATIC! YOU COULD HAVE KILLED US!" Catherine shouted. She'd made her way out of the wreckage fairly easily, and had been waiting to either curse Moriarty out, or take her frustrations out on his battered corpse.

"I knew what I was doing, my dear. And if you'll pay particular attention to that car there, you'll note the presence of our wise Owl friend." Moriarty pointed to a wrecked car among the heaps of cars scattered all along the highway. He'd calculated and determined the perfect way to take out Hedgeowl's car while doing minimal harm to Catherine and himself, all well before their road trip came to a close. With his hands in his pockets, he shook his head to indicate that Catherine should follow him as he walked down the highway, whistling a merry tune.

"Did you know the world's largest ball of yarn is actually only a few miles from here?" he asked Catherine.

____________________

I would like to kill Hedgeowl
I would also like to use the Exaggerator power to play out the following scene:

Jim, Rumpelstiltskin, Catherine, Dr. Fetus, Sander Cohen, Creeper, are all sat around a poker table. They're making small talk until Jim proposes an alliance to which they all agree.
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Re: [END] The Syndicate's 2013 Game of Champions

#4573

Post by DharmaHelper »

Also, my only good Red Room Post:
DharmaHelper wrote:
Night One: The Life And Death Of James Moriarty
Image


Death was significantly less...significant than James had imagined it would be. A flash of light, a rush of air, and that was that. He was, according to all logical thought, dead. The Voice had sent him, along with what seemed to be every other fallen participant, to a new place. The Red Room he called it, and every second spent there sent a chill through Jame's bones. And it was this new place, this Red Room, that proved to be the real obstacle. The Voice had given them all new names, new memories, to go along with their new home. James was Vompatti, at least he'd been given the chance to remain a psychotic killing machine. He'd imagined that the Voice had planned on completely wiping his old life away, replacing it with this new one. James however was far too intelligent and perhaps far too insane to simply accept an entirely different reality. The mental stresses of having two lives and two sets of memories was wearing James thin. He had to focus, had to really concentrate to remember who he was. His old life came to him in flashes that he wrote along the walls of the room he was in, muttering to himself like a lunatic. Mnemonic devices, poems, and short songs were employed to keep him aware of his past life.

But for all his efforts to remember James Moriarty, the persona of Vompatti clawed and scrapped and scratched its way into his psyche. He felt an uncontrollable urge to kill and cause chaos. His mind wandered, barely able to focus on anything but the sound of screaming victims; the sight of spraying blood. Whatever the Voice had done to him, he ached all over, the only possible relief seeming to be surrendering to these murderous urges. He could feel the brilliance and precision of James Moriarty give way to utter randomness and wonton destruction. Occasionally, vague glimpses of his partners Rumpelstiltskin and Catherine Martell pulled him from the brink, and he could barely remember machinations of taking control of the Voice itself. Then, just as quickly, he would snap into a mindless state. Finally Vompatti was unable to control himself any longer, or perhaps what was left of James Moriarty had decided to play along and bide his time until an opportunity for revenge presented itself. In either case, it was time to test the mettle of this new reality by killing one of it's inhabitants.

Vompatti's prey was selected by pure happenstance. Or maybe James' prey was selected after careful deliberation and meticulous planning. Regardless, both men agreed that Devin the Omniscient had to die. The only question remained how to kill a man in a room full of people without being noticed. Vompatti didn't care who saw him, but James had an unshakeable desire to remain undetected. The two reached a compromise, in that they would lure Devin as far away from everyone else before doing the deed. James and Vompatti approached Devin casually, using all of James' charm to lure him into a false sense of security. They smiled and exchanged pleasantries, discussing the Room and it's many mysteries.

"Were you reading something?" Devin asked suddenly, pointing to James' and Vompatti's face. They were both quite puzzled, and reached a hand to their face only to discover that in this iteration of their lives, they wore reading glasses.

"No." James replied. "But that certainly makes this easier." He plucked the glasses from his face, running his hands over the frame and the lenses pensively.

"Makes what easier?" Devin inquired. James snapped one of the stems of his new glasses off and plunged the splintered piece into Devin's neck, drawing him close for a hug that would conceal his murderous actions from the rest of the people in the room. He jabbed and stabbed Devin's neck in quick succession, Devin only able to let out a few soft gurgles of protest. When he was done, Vompatti's shirt was drenched in blood from his collar down to his belly. Devin's body slumped over, and Vompatti set him down gently in the corner of the room, closing his eyes with his fingertips.

"I guess some things never change" Jim said. Then, in a completely different voice he replied out loud to himself, "Ture."







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Re: [END] The Syndicate's 2013 Game of Champions

#4574

Post by DharmaHelper »

Also I knew JC was bad you guys should listen to me more often :|
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Re: [END] The Syndicate's 2013 Game of Champions

#4575

Post by Epignosis »

DharmaHelper wrote:Z rd rj jyrgvcvjj rj kyv nrmvj fw fcu lecvjj leuvi kyv kfity fw rgfccf. nyve Z rd sfie Z rd fev slk nyve Z uzv Z rd drep. Jfdv trcc dv r jrzek reu fkyvij r jzeevi. Jfcmv kyzj izuucv ze kzdv reu pfl'cc sv kyv nzeevi. Nyrk zj jzo rk fetv reu fev jzo kzdvj lecvj ivmvijvu reu dlckzgczvu? Kyv drjfej trcc reu uvru nzcc izjv slk fecp nyve pfl tcfjv pfli vpvj.

Hint for MP: There is no answer, this is just some bullshit
We figured it was an exaggeration, but I worked it out Bilbo Baggins style anyway. :slick:

"I am as shapeless as the waves of old unless under the torch of apollo. when I am born I am one but when I die I am many. Some call me a saint and others a sinner. Solve this riddle in time and you'll be the winner. What is six at once and one six times unles reversed and multiplied? The masons call and dead will rise but only when you close your eyes."

The answer is "Darkness."

Darkness is without form unless under the light (torch of Apollo). When the light is cast upon the earth, the darkness no longer has one shape, but instead takes many in the forms of shadows. Some revere darkness and some equate it symbolically with evil. The (stone)masons craft graves for those about to go into the darkness of the earth, and when you close your eyes, you can recollect those you lost to the darkness.

"Six at once and one six times unless reversed and multipled?"

Oh that's easy.

A lot of people are in the dark about math. :p
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Re: [END] The Syndicate's 2013 Game of Champions

#4576

Post by DharmaHelper »

Epignosis wrote:
DharmaHelper wrote:Z rd rj jyrgvcvjj rj kyv nrmvj fw fcu lecvjj leuvi kyv kfity fw rgfccf. nyve Z rd sfie Z rd fev slk nyve Z uzv Z rd drep. Jfdv trcc dv r jrzek reu fkyvij r jzeevi. Jfcmv kyzj izuucv ze kzdv reu pfl'cc sv kyv nzeevi. Nyrk zj jzo rk fetv reu fev jzo kzdvj lecvj ivmvijvu reu dlckzgczvu? Kyv drjfej trcc reu uvru nzcc izjv slk fecp nyve pfl tcfjv pfli vpvj.

Hint for MP: There is no answer, this is just some bullshit
We figured it was an exaggeration, but I worked it out Bilbo Baggins style anyway. :slick:

"I am as shapeless as the waves of old unless under the torch of apollo. when I am born I am one but when I die I am many. Some call me a saint and others a sinner. Solve this riddle in time and you'll be the winner. What is six at once and one six times unles reversed and multiplied? The masons call and dead will rise but only when you close your eyes."

The answer is "Darkness."

Darkness is without form unless under the light (torch of Apollo). When the light is cast upon the earth, the darkness no longer has one shape, but instead takes many in the forms of shadows. Some revere darkness and some equate it symbolically with evil. The (stone)masons craft graves for those about to go into the darkness of the earth, and when you close your eyes, you can recollect those you lost to the darkness.

"Six at once and one six times unless reversed and multipled?"

Oh that's easy.

A lot of people are in the dark about math. :p
:omg: Solved.
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Re: [END] The Syndicate's 2013 Game of Champions

#4577

Post by Boomslang »

Well, I'm happy to be considered a champion among champions! Good game, all.
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Re: [END] The Syndicate's 2013 Game of Champions

#4578

Post by insertnamehere »

That story was amazing, DH.
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Re: [END] The Syndicate's 2013 Game of Champions

#4579

Post by Lizzy »

DH, duuuuuuude! That was fantabulous! 'Tis an honour to have had such an important role in Moriarty's master plan. :noble: I really wished the merger were real though. :( Like I wished INH's programme were real. :( Btw, in case you haven't figured it out already, I saved you on Day 1 k. I thought you were harmless and pretty entertaining. :noble:
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Re: [END] The Syndicate's 2013 Game of Champions

#4580

Post by juliets »

DharmaHelper wrote:Also I knew JC was bad you guys should listen to me more often :|
Hahaha - DH, in every single game we've played you've said I was bad. In all the others i wasn't. This time I was.
JaggedJimmyJay wrote: Sat Aug 21, 2021 3:24 pm Always good to remember that there is no such thing as a Mafia circumstance that is worth real human emotion. Sometimes it will naturally come out, but it can be contained if we just remember that this is a game on a message board forum that 99.99% of the population of the Earth has never heard of before. No matter how successful anyone is, it means just about nothing.

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Re: [END] The Syndicate's 2013 Game of Champions

#4581

Post by Kate »

juliets wrote:
DharmaHelper wrote:Also I knew JC was bad you guys should listen to me more often :|
Hahaha - DH, in every single game we've played you've said I was bad. In all the others i wasn't. This time I was.
Remember west wing? :ohyeah:
Andrew wrote: Wed May 29, 2013 6:47 pm I'm voting llama again because I think I heard him say something that looks like proof.
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Re: [END] The Syndicate's 2013 Game of Champions

#4582

Post by DharmaHelper »

I do not.
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Re: [END] The Syndicate's 2013 Game of Champions

#4583

Post by bea »

DharmaHelper wrote:Also, my only good Red Room Post:
DharmaHelper wrote:
Night One: The Life And Death Of James Moriarty
Image


Death was significantly less...significant than James had imagined it would be. A flash of light, a rush of air, and that was that. He was, according to all logical thought, dead. The Voice had sent him, along with what seemed to be every other fallen participant, to a new place. The Red Room he called it, and every second spent there sent a chill through Jame's bones. And it was this new place, this Red Room, that proved to be the real obstacle. The Voice had given them all new names, new memories, to go along with their new home. James was Vompatti, at least he'd been given the chance to remain a psychotic killing machine. He'd imagined that the Voice had planned on completely wiping his old life away, replacing it with this new one. James however was far too intelligent and perhaps far too insane to simply accept an entirely different reality. The mental stresses of having two lives and two sets of memories was wearing James thin. He had to focus, had to really concentrate to remember who he was. His old life came to him in flashes that he wrote along the walls of the room he was in, muttering to himself like a lunatic. Mnemonic devices, poems, and short songs were employed to keep him aware of his past life.

But for all his efforts to remember James Moriarty, the persona of Vompatti clawed and scrapped and scratched its way into his psyche. He felt an uncontrollable urge to kill and cause chaos. His mind wandered, barely able to focus on anything but the sound of screaming victims; the sight of spraying blood. Whatever the Voice had done to him, he ached all over, the only possible relief seeming to be surrendering to these murderous urges. He could feel the brilliance and precision of James Moriarty give way to utter randomness and wonton destruction. Occasionally, vague glimpses of his partners Rumpelstiltskin and Catherine Martell pulled him from the brink, and he could barely remember machinations of taking control of the Voice itself. Then, just as quickly, he would snap into a mindless state. Finally Vompatti was unable to control himself any longer, or perhaps what was left of James Moriarty had decided to play along and bide his time until an opportunity for revenge presented itself. In either case, it was time to test the mettle of this new reality by killing one of it's inhabitants.

Vompatti's prey was selected by pure happenstance. Or maybe James' prey was selected after careful deliberation and meticulous planning. Regardless, both men agreed that Devin the Omniscient had to die. The only question remained how to kill a man in a room full of people without being noticed. Vompatti didn't care who saw him, but James had an unshakeable desire to remain undetected. The two reached a compromise, in that they would lure Devin as far away from everyone else before doing the deed. James and Vompatti approached Devin casually, using all of James' charm to lure him into a false sense of security. They smiled and exchanged pleasantries, discussing the Room and it's many mysteries.

"Were you reading something?" Devin asked suddenly, pointing to James' and Vompatti's face. They were both quite puzzled, and reached a hand to their face only to discover that in this iteration of their lives, they wore reading glasses.

"No." James replied. "But that certainly makes this easier." He plucked the glasses from his face, running his hands over the frame and the lenses pensively.

"Makes what easier?" Devin inquired. James snapped one of the stems of his new glasses off and plunged the splintered piece into Devin's neck, drawing him close for a hug that would conceal his murderous actions from the rest of the people in the room. He jabbed and stabbed Devin's neck in quick succession, Devin only able to let out a few soft gurgles of protest. When he was done, Vompatti's shirt was drenched in blood from his collar down to his belly. Devin's body slumped over, and Vompatti set him down gently in the corner of the room, closing his eyes with his fingertips.

"I guess some things never change" Jim said. Then, in a completely different voice he replied out loud to himself, "Ture."








SRRSLY??? ME?!!! DAY 1!!! I HATE YOU. :P .

Sooo happy for every post I made about it being a perfect day now. :D

I love you INH.

DH - really? me? day 1? sooooooo lame. :p
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Re: [END] The Syndicate's 2013 Game of Champions

#4584

Post by DharmaHelper »

:(
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Re: [END] The Syndicate's 2013 Game of Champions

#4585

Post by Hedgeowl »

Just finished reading all you wrote DH. Wow, awesome stuff. Seriously you should write ebooks for Kindle for funsies. Self-publishing is all the rage these days. (Granted I hear from some that cyber security pays well too....:p)

Did you try to kill me the same night you died? I have to check who it was redirected to.
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Re: [END] The Syndicate's 2013 Game of Champions

#4586

Post by Hedgeowl »

So it looks like the kill redirected to Devin who survived and you didn't go to the red room till the next day.

Did you and Juliet's realize I was Henderson after that?
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Re: [END] The Syndicate's 2013 Game of Champions

#4587

Post by DharmaHelper »

Tbqh I was very bad at matching people to roles this game. Though I think I had you penciled as a possible Henderson at one point or another.
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Re: [END] The Syndicate's 2013 Game of Champions

#4588

Post by bea »

also - now that I'm done whining, those were some pretty awesome posts sir. Great story telling! :)
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Re: [END] The Syndicate's 2013 Game of Champions

#4589

Post by juliets »

Kate wrote:
juliets wrote:
DharmaHelper wrote:Also I knew JC was bad you guys should listen to me more often :|
Hahaha - DH, in every single game we've played you've said I was bad. In all the others i wasn't. This time I was.
Remember west wing? :ohyeah:
Yes! West Wing is where it all began.
JaggedJimmyJay wrote: Sat Aug 21, 2021 3:24 pm Always good to remember that there is no such thing as a Mafia circumstance that is worth real human emotion. Sometimes it will naturally come out, but it can be contained if we just remember that this is a game on a message board forum that 99.99% of the population of the Earth has never heard of before. No matter how successful anyone is, it means just about nothing.

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DharmaHelper
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Re: [END] The Syndicate's 2013 Game of Champions

#4590

Post by DharmaHelper »

Yo just some late night rambling that no one will read cuz this thread is in Atlantis.

Fucking with everyone in the Red Room was so dope. Basically holding Dom hostage for that vote was... *Italian chef finger kiss*

Especially because IIRC I confronted Dom in the thread but secretly agreed to keep him safe via secret BTSC. I told him he was quote "the safest player in the game" because I'd not kill him, and when I got recruited I'd make sure whoever recruited me didn't kill him.

or something.

Fucking good shit right there.
our Linkitis is our lives.

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Re: [END] The Syndicate's 2013 Game of Champions

#4591

Post by Ricochet »

It's 2017.
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Re: [END] The Syndicate's 2013 Game of Champions

#4592

Post by DharmaHelper »

Well spotted.
our Linkitis is our lives.

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Re: [END] The Syndicate's 2013 Game of Champions

#4593

Post by Marmot »

I missed this game because I had just joined the site. :sigh:
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The answer: all of them, if you are a marmot.
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