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Author Topic: M E I N K A M P F : A Tale of Vainglourious Basterds - [GAME OVER: 5/11]  (Read 69664 times)

Tiruin

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Day ends in approx. 1 hour. Love the stalling tactic Dariush.
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Dariush

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...Stalling tactic? Oh, my bad. I forgot that not spending 24 hours per day staring at the thread is considered stalling and being away from the computer for two hours is a heinous crime. I also completely forgot that you have a ton of uber-important information waiting for me.

As for that post, it doesn't matter. At the post I quoted earlier, you distinctly said that it was 'bad wording'. I pointed this out numerous times to you. You ignored everything. Just because you called your vomit sarcasm earlier doesn't change it.

Also I love how you changed your vote right before day end.
Do the words 'tie', 'tie-breaking' and 'non-commital, lazy scum who doesn't read the thread and answers questions with one-word throwaway shit' mean anything to you?

Tiruin

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As for that post, it doesn't matter. At the post I quoted earlier, you distinctly said that it was 'bad wording'. I pointed this out numerous times to you. You ignored everything. Just because you called your vomit sarcasm earlier doesn't change it.
The best excuse in the world to keep your vote on me.

Stubbornness in the face of obviousness.
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Dariush

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The best excuse in the world to keep your vote on me.

Stubbornness in the face of obviousness.
Obviousness? Of what? Of you being scum? Yes, it is there.

I mean, do you really expect me to exclaim 'Oh, woe unto me! How wrong I was!' and tie the vote back minutes before the day end, especially after all the random shit you threw at me to get my vote off you? I mean, stalling? By not posting for THREE HOURS? Really?

lordnincompoop

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Night 3 Has Begun!



Votecount:
zombie urist  - 0 - 
Tiruin  - 3 -  Urist Imiknorris, Hapah, Dariush
Toaster  - 1 -  zombie urist
Dariush  - 1 -  Tiruin
IronyOwl  - 0 - 
Urist Imiknorris  - 0 - 
Hapah  - 0 - 
Shakerag  - 1 -  Toaster
-
Not Voting  - 2 -  IronyOwl, Shakerag
No Lynch  - 0 - 



The soldiers begin to argue further. This day, a glimmer of hope begins to shine out - four spies, counted the Kommandant, and three down. They had only to find one more; the rest (they hoped) would be spared. Their mission would continue anew. Words found strength, even into the approaching night - though the darkness enveloped them, and though the great night and its alien cries surrounded them, the camp, its fires and its warmth shone through like a beacon in the storm.

The Kommandant had sat with a pack of cigarettes off to the edge in his rain-shelter, watching them solemnly. The smoke, heavy and sluggish in the rainy air, clung low to the ground and sought refuge near him, surrounding him in a grey, sticky mist continually renewed by the lit flames, burning softly. In silent study, he plucks the softly glowing cigarette with his left hand, holding his revolver in his right, turning it idly about it his hand. He checked his watch.

No, not yet.

The soldiers continue, talk on as the night deepens. Eventually, calculating that the moment had arrived, the Kommandant raises his gun.

The blast rings clear through the camp. They fall silent, awaiting the Kommandant’s words. He approaches, wordlessly - the revolver lies tucked in the pocket of his long black coat, and drawing the last wafts of black smoke from the ashen stub, he flicks it onto the ground. His boots dig into the ground as he strides toward them.

“Who is it?” A simple question - everyone understood what he meant.

“Friedrich.” The answer is prompt, unhesitant. The crowd disperses to reveal him, frozen to the earth.

The next few moments proceeded quickly. The Kommandant closed in, and stood before the man so close that he could smell his breath as the giant glared down into his eyes. Raising the end of the black silencer to the man's chin, he pulled the trigger, unflinchingly, letting the now-limp body fall into the mud.

When the others regain their composure, he is already cleaning off his gun, motioning for two soldiers to search the body.

After a few moments, they silently present him with another passport. Holstering his revolver somewhere in his jacket, he takes it and leafs through it, quickly - and with a smile, he brandishes the miniature photograph for all to see.

“Good work. This is a British passport; his real name was Brian Cleeve.”

A sigh of relief fills the air. The ordeal is over.

“We have killed all the spies, now. Rest for tonight, and celebrate, if you want to. We will continue with the mission tomorrow.”



Friedrich “Tiruin” Gerig was lynched! He was a Spy.



The Night will end Monday, 8PM GMT.
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lordnincompoop

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Day 4 Has Begun!



Votecount:
zombie urist  - 0 - 
Toaster  - 0 - 
Dariush  - 0 - 
IronyOwl  - 0 - 
Urist Imiknorris  - 0 - 
Hapah  - 0 - 
Shakerag  - 0 - 
-
Not Voting  - 7 -  Shakerag, Toaster, zombie urist, Urist Imiknorris, Hapah, Hapah, Dariush
No Lynch  - 0 - 



The day dawns with new, vibrant energy. The soldiers, now purified, the camp purged of its demons, awaken with smiles on their faces and bright eyes - bright for the first time in three days.

They don their uniforms, have breakfast, merrily, and with much talk, and step outside for their morning drill before the work of the day would begin. Though the exercise is strenuous, they do it eagerly, savouring the return to activity. With the sun high and bright in the sky, the heavens cloudless and long last, they gather in the centre of the camp, awaiting instruction.

The Kommandant appears from within a tent, dressed in his usual long black coat. Again, today, he frowns as he solemnly approaches the men - and they, seeing his graveness, quieten.

“Last night, I received ill news. More spies have snuck into the camp - we will not be resuming the mission today. The men who have stood watch last night have been dealt with, and we will repeat what we did yesterday. Understood?”

Nervous laughs creep across the ranks, confused smiles - but the Kommandant says nothing. Eventually, unable to bear the silence, one of the soldiers ask, “Surely, this must be a joke, sir? Did we not kill all of the spies?”

And, as if to demonstrate his intentions, the Kommandant unholsters his revolver from inside his jacket, and fires a shot at him with pinpoint accuracy. He crumples to the ground.

“Does anyone else wish to comment?”

Silence. The air grows cold - a chill wind blows through the clearing.

“Begin.”



The Day will end Wednesday, 8PM GMT.
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Urist Imiknorris

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Kommandant: How many are there?
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Quote from: LordSlowpoke
I don't know how it works. It does.
Quote from: Jim Groovester
YOU CANT NOT HAVE SUSPECTS IN A GAME OF MAFIA

ITS THE WHOLE POINT OF THE GAME
Quote from: Cheeetar
If Tiruin redirected the lynch, then this means that, and... the Illuminati! Of course!

Toaster

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Shakerag, as per yesterday.  Why didn't you vote yesterday?


Irony, same question to you.


Hapah:  Why do you have an extra vote today?
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HMR stands for Hazardous Materials Requisition, not Horrible Massive Ruination, though I can understand how one could get confused.
God help us if we have to agree on pizza toppings at some point. There will be no survivors.

IronyOwl

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Hapah. You seem to have predicted this, more or less. That's odd.


Irony, same question to you.
Because I could not figure out what the hell was going on.
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Quote from: Radio Controlled (Discord)
A hand, a hand, my kingdom for a hot hand!
The kitchenette mold free, you move on to the pantry. it's nasty in there. The bacon is grazing on the lettuce. The ham is having an illicit affair with the prime rib, The potatoes see all, know all. A rat in boxer shorts smoking a foul smelling cigar is banging on a cabinet shouting about rent money.

Hapah

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Hapah:  Why do you have an extra vote today?
Probably for the same reason you had it D1 (D2? I think it was you with the double vote, wasn't it?) I've even got an idea of how it might work, but I haven't convinced myself yet. Need to do a little research.

Hapah. You seem to have predicted this, more or less. That's odd.
The pieces are all there, you just have to put them together. I'm happy that my educated guesses seem to be pretty close to the mark so far, though!
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I can't be expected to remember the names of everyone I've tried to stab.

Bored? Go read the EVE Chronicles.

zombie urist

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I'm so confused right now. Also I will not be available next Saturday and part of Sunday. I should be able to post regularly otherwise.

ZU:  You expect me to be wearing a medal... in a combat zone... on a secret mission... while I'm sleeping?
I forgot this earlier, but even though I'm not familiar with military procedures and proper medal maintenance, but I highly doubt that a leather case is the proper way to store a medal.

Probably for the same reason you had it D1 (D2? I think it was you with the double vote, wasn't it?) I've even got an idea of how it might work, but I haven't convinced myself yet. Need to do a little research.
Wanna share?
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The worst part of all of this is that Shakerag won.

Dariush

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Hapah. You seem to have predicted this, more or less. That's odd.
...What? Where did you see it? Also, any other... suspicions besides Hapah, IO?

ZU, you still haven't answered my questions. Why is breaking a tie suspicious to you? Do you have any suspicions now that Toaster's case of medalincasetitis is resolved?

Hapah

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PFP

Quote from: ZU
Wanna share?
I think it's just a role; and I've a guess how it would work. Not sure that it's important, but I can run it out if you want.

I am disturbed by the D4 opener, though.
Quote from: Kommandant
“Last night, I received ill news. More spies have snuck into the camp - we will not be resuming the mission today. The men who have stood watch last night have been dealt with, and we will repeat what we did yesterday. Understood?”
This tells us that the spies arrived last night. Gentlemen, we've all been here for at least three days already. I suppose it's possible guards saw one of us coming and going doing spy stuff, but why they'd risk it last night is beyond me.

LNCP: Confirm D4 opening flavor is correct?
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I can't be expected to remember the names of everyone I've tried to stab.

Bored? Go read the EVE Chronicles.

Shakerag

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TolyK may have been a spy, but I think his information *may* be legit regardless.  I have an investigative power myself.
His information may be legit because you're a spy with flavor inspect? Is that what you're saying?
I was just saying that his information seemed to collaborate with my information is all.  It might have been lucky coincidence, it might not have been.  I think we can stop speculating on this though.

Also, Shakerag/Hapah: Toaster, who was supposedly chloroform'd according to your theories, doesn't know it. Don't you think that he of all people would notice the sweet smell supposedly coming from his face?
On one hand, possibly not, if the smell had disappated by the time he woke.  On the other hand, flavor is as flavor does.  If Toaster was roleblocked, and the mechanics of the game state you don't know if you've been blocked, then the flavor would reflect that.  Regardless of whether or not it would make sense to notice a smell on one's person.


Shakerag, as per yesterday.  Why didn't you vote yesterday?
What IronyOwl said.  Didn't know what was going on, my vote wouldn't have changed anything at day end anyway, and while I didn't have a real case on Tiruin, I had a niggling gut feeling about him being scum, so didn't mind if he got lynched.


However, I can give you all some solid info for today.  I investigated Dariush last night and confirmed he had a sweet, but not strongly-scented vial of liquid on his person.  My flavor seemed to indicate that this was not, in fact, perfume.  Didn't say it was chloroform either, but there you have it. 

Of course, that's not enough to vote Dariush by itself.  On the other hand, the French passport for an "Antoine Campagner" hidden in a hollowed out book in Dariush's stuff *is* a good enough reason to vote for the filthy spy.

Dariush

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Oh wow, you totally busted me! You are completely right!

Oh wait, you are not. Besides the fact that your 'findings' are incorrect.
1) Suddenly your third inspect reveals the target's name;
2) Everyone dead so far had their passport on their body and not in their things;
3) Did you really have had enough time to search every single book in my belongings after claiming to only having enough time/lighting for a cursory search of the two previous targets?

Oh, and completely coincidentally it is MYLO. The best time for a fakeclaim. Sooo... yeah, you're pretty much lying scum, Shakerag.
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