With 13 alive it takes 7 to lynch.
Day 1 deadline is in (expired on 2017-05-17 02:40:00).
nancy smiles up at the sky for a moment as she leaves her apartment building. The color of morning has everything lit up and sparkling and the smell of purple hyacinth carries her out into the side street. She taps out a message on her phone keyboard as she strolls down along the vacant sidewalk with her bag slung over one shoulder,
Am otw!
.
Last edited by nancy on Wed May 03, 2017 1:33 pm, edited 2 times in total.
hi meet my mafiascum gravestone, the flowers were probably left by camn or schadd or Prism, blow them kisses for me would you?
With 13 alive it takes 7 to lynch.
Day 1 deadline is in (expired on 2017-05-17 02:40:00).
A few blabbering tourists crowd around the barred gates to Casa di Giulietta. The way becomes still busier once nancy reaches the piazza beyond. Local women dressed in all manner of color and fashion hurry this way and that with their eyes buried in smartphone screens.
Swearing is fine guys, just don't insult people or curse them out or use slurs. I'll give warnings first regardless.
Last edited by nancy on Tue May 02, 2017 3:38 pm, edited 5 times in total.
hi meet my mafiascum gravestone, the flowers were probably left by camn or schadd or Prism, blow them kisses for me would you?
With 13 alive it takes 7 to lynch.
Day 1 deadline is in (expired on 2017-05-17 02:40:00).
Someone curses at themselves sheepishly and appears without recourse when they stumble on a curb and spill their takeaway coffee onto their hand. nancy's phone comes to life in her coat pocket with a message:
Hurrry uuuuuuppp
.
Last edited by nancy on Tue May 02, 2017 3:37 pm, edited 2 times in total.
hi meet my mafiascum gravestone, the flowers were probably left by camn or schadd or Prism, blow them kisses for me would you?
With 13 alive it takes 7 to lynch.
Day 1 deadline is in (expired on 2017-05-17 02:40:00).
nancy ducks into a bar for a moment to snatch an angel wing and a coffee before continuing on her way.
/me licks
, she sends. The pastry melts against her tongue as she rounds a corner and she nearly sags against the wall for a moment under the effect of the sugar.
Last edited by nancy on Wed May 03, 2017 11:10 am, edited 1 time in total.
hi meet my mafiascum gravestone, the flowers were probably left by camn or schadd or Prism, blow them kisses for me would you?
Reminder that personal insults, however slight, are inflammatory and not welcome in this game. Please keep things civil and respectful and let's make this a fun environment for everyone.
hi meet my mafiascum gravestone, the flowers were probably left by camn or schadd or Prism, blow them kisses for me would you?
With 13 alive it takes 7 to lynch.
Day 1 deadline is in (expired on 2017-05-17 02:40:00).
A bird perches on a balcony railing above nancy takes into flight at the sight of a possible mate, and nancy's phone screen glows with the winding back-and-forth between her and her lover as she cuts across the city.
Last edited by nancy on Sun May 21, 2017 8:16 pm, edited 5 times in total.
hi meet my mafiascum gravestone, the flowers were probably left by camn or schadd or Prism, blow them kisses for me would you?
Ah, good timing Nacho. Your mod has also returned.... Apparently something has gone wrong in the machinery as there were supposed to be VCs being produced in my absence. OP is now updated and I will pagetop a VC if that happens in the next.. 2 hours.
hi meet my mafiascum gravestone, the flowers were probably left by camn or schadd or Prism, blow them kisses for me would you?
~ Fro99er, Firebringer, Alisae, Nachomamma8, implosion, Ser Arthur Dayne, Titus
Titus (3)
~ Hikari Link, Tammy, TheRealGin-N-Tonic
Ser Arthur Dayne (1)
~ Aristophanes
Alisae (1)
~ Keyser Söze
TheRealGin-N-Tonic (1)
~ Prism
Not voting (0)
~
With 13 alive it takes 7 to lynch.
Day 1 deadline got fucking hammered.
Mini puts her phone aside for a moment to stare up at the ceiling, trying intently to calm her fidgeting. She's been lying on her bed for over an hour with the pillows gathered around her, spamming nancy's phone with messages and never receiving enough in reply. The incense on her dresser has died, but she hasn't noticed. She's too wrapped up in her impatience, waiting for nancy to arrive while warding off the swells of pain coursing up her back through to her forehead.
The distance between their houses is easily walkable, but the amount of time it takes to travel when there is nothing else to focus on drives Mini to rearranging the bed in every manner possible. After tossing the triangular pillow back against the head of the bed once again, she switches to Skyscanner app at a whim and checks for flights to Sweden. A moment later she flurries through a jumble of texts to nancy, only the first coming through with proper diction:
nancy there are flights on sale to Göteborg!
~
In the brief surge of excitement at reading the message, nancy stops watching the path for just long enough to collide with a woman hurrying out of a store bearing a carrybag full of groceries in the crook of her elbow. The force of the impact sends the bag swinging and its contents half-spill out onto the stone paving: several tomatoes, a punnet of strawberries, an orange, and a jar of pickles. The jar shatters and spews pickle and preservative across nancy's textile shoes.
Last edited by nancy on Thu May 11, 2017 2:37 am, edited 3 times in total.
hi meet my mafiascum gravestone, the flowers were probably left by camn or schadd or Prism, blow them kisses for me would you?
The sun is climbing high enough over old, red-topped Verona to begin to fill the sky. The soft glow that filters through the clouds embarks upon its slow journey of clearing the dampness of the city streets. On Via Pillicciai, nancy glances regretfully at the closed doors of Come una Volta as she passes the gelateria at a brisk walk. She now has a new route to Mini's house, detouring by Via Mazzini on account of Mini's evening snacking habits, nevermind her shoes being completely ruined—the smell of pickle drags itself around with her everywhere, a plague upon her and anyone else with a sensitive enough sense of smell to catch the odor. The streets are steadily filling and motorbikes have begun zipping by with increasing frequency. Here and there a little pool of water that has collected over the course of the night is dispersed across the pavement, and nancy more than once has to predict the movement of traffic to avoid being sprayed.
She finishes typing another message—an incoherent jumble of lovehearts and smileys—and sends it to Mini. A ray of light burns through a window (she thinks for a moment that it is the sun) and she squints against it as she moves to retrieve her sunglasses from her bag. The sound of traffic becomes unbearable as a truck trundles by, running through a puddle and sending a slur of muck in nancy's direction. She dodges backwards instinctively at the sound of wheel hitting water, twisting her body away from the turbulence of brownish liquid in her periphery, and trips over a terrier squatting patiently by its leash. For a moment the ground seems to be surging unstoppably up towards her, before it falters and halts and she realizes that she has caught herself with one hand gripping the flat stone of the building, and is stumbling to regain her balance. She forgets that the dog exists as she recovers shiveringly from the panic of the near-fall, starts once again down the street at a stilted gait, and stares without recognition at the pair of blue sunglasses in her hand, frame and lens crumpled and cracked from their meeting with the wall.
hi meet my mafiascum gravestone, the flowers were probably left by camn or schadd or Prism, blow them kisses for me would you?