Open 67 Two of Four (a7) Over! before 578

[shaft.ed]

Players:

Spending Their Inheritance:

DrippingGoofball

Thorbjorn

Evil Son

DoctorJimmy

Evil Son

Not Quite Fighting for Inheritance:

Near

Good Son

Removed Day 1
Lowell

The Doctor

Lobodomized Night 1
farside22

Good Son

Removed Day 2
Erratus Apathos

Good Son

Killed Endgame
Greasy Spot

mozsuggs

The Cop

Killed Endgame

Backstory:

You thought you might be happy today. You haven’t seen most of your brothers since childhood if at all. Your father’s passing brought you all together. Granted it was over money, but it seemed like some good could come of it.

You’re from a family that never really knew their parents or each other for that matter. At the age of seven you were sent to boarding school, and never saw your family again. Pappy set you up with a generous trust fund, enough to live off comfortably without working, but you only had contact with an anonymous accountant your whole adult life. A couple of your brothers did manage to track you down, the one’s you knew of before going off to boarding school. From what you could surmise there were seven of you. From a couple jumbled Christmas cards over the years you recalled that exactly two of your siblings worked as a Police Officer, Doctor, School Crossing Guard, or worked down at the paper mill.

It didn’t seem that knowledge would ever be useful. But then you didn’t expect to be in a room with a dead guy today. He said he was your uncle Theo. He’d been reading boring lawyerese for the last hour when the lights suddenly went out. After hearing a struggle and some horrible gurgling sounds, the old man in the suit was dead. Checking the doors and windows revealed they are locked from the outside. Inspection of the will in Uncle Theo’s hands revealed a thick wad of blank paper. Something strange is happening today.

A voice then comes out of an intercom. “Damn it I knew you kids were no good. I’m glad I paid that hobo to sit in with you animals. I’m your Uncle Theo. Your Father knew that exactly two of you were evil and would do anything to get your hands on his money, that’s why you were all sent away as children. I’m tired of talking, here’s your father.”

A TV comes out of the wall, and old vaguely familiar man begins to speak.

Hello my children. If you are watching this that means that I have died. I was a very rich man, and you are the sole heirs to my fortune. However, I know that two of you would do anything to keep the money all to yourselves. So I have devised a test to see who deserves my money more, those with the most desire, or those with the purer hearts. Each day you will choose democratically amongst yourselves who will…be removed from the room. Your Uncle Theo will inform you whether or not that person was good or evil. And we will repeat the process until only one group remains. Whichever group makes it to the end of the process will get to split the inheritance amongst themselves. Will Good triumph over Evil? I wish I were still around to find out.

The TV zaps off and the wall engulfs it suddenly. A scoreboard drops from the ceiling. It reads Home: 5 Away: 2. All of your names are listed, but not illuminated with four blank light bulbs to the right of each name. A clock reads 21:00:00. Over the intercom, Theo barks “you have exactly 21 hours. You’d best get to work.” The clock begins its descent.

Role PMs:

Exactly 2 of:

You are an Evil Son with XXXX. You may talk with your partner, and kill a single player total each night. Have one person PM me the name of the player you wish to kill and which of you would like to make the kill. If noone is indicated as performing the kill, I will assume the person sending me the PM wishes to do so.

You win when the only living players are Evil Sons, or nothing can prevent the same.

Exactly 3 of:

You are a Good Son. You have no powers except for your vote.

You win when all Evil Sons have been eliminated.

Exactly 2 of the Following 4 without duplicates:

You are the Cop. Each Night send me a player's name and I will tell you if they are aligned with the Good Sons or the Evil Sons.

You win when all Evil Sons have been eliminated.

You are the Doctor. Each night send me a player's name and they will be protected from the Evil Sons for that night. You cannot protect yourself.

You win when all Evil Sons have been eliminated.

You are the Roleblocker. Each night send me a player's name who you wish to roleblock and they will not be able to perform their night action/kill.

You win when all Evil Sons have been eliminated.

You are the Miller. You have no powers except for your vote, and worse yet you will appear to be an Evil Son if investigated by the Cop. That's what you get for spending all of your time at the Mill.

You win when all Evil Sons have been eliminated.

Rules:

The Rules (borrowed from vollkan borrowed from JordanA24 etc. with some alterations):
1: This is a game, have fun.
2: Please bold your votes. For example,

Vote: RandomPerson

. Votes that are not bolded will not be counted.
3: If you wish to change your vote, bold an unvote before casting your new vote. For example,

Unvote, Vote: ScummyPerson

. If you do not unvote in this format, your vote will not be counted.
4: Lynching will require a majority of the votes. You may

Vote: No Lynch

to decide to not lynch someone on a given day. No-lynching also requires a majority of the votes. Once a lynch is decided, the decision is final. Feel free to continue posting until the thread is locked, but unvoting before I check the thread will not prevent the player from being lynched.
5: If you get lynched or killed, you are dead. A single “Bah” post with NO other content is allowed.
6: Any questions, concerns, desires for me to prod, whatever PM me for best results.
7: Never quote anything that I PM to you.
8: Treat this game as a commitment and be considerate of me and your fellow players.
9: No small or invisible text, editing of your posts, codes, etc.
10: Do not discuss this game outside the thread at any time, except if and when your role specifically allows you to do so.
11: You must confirm your role to me by PM.
12: If you do not post for 3 days without notifying me that you will be away, you will be prodded. Not posting within 48 hours of the prod or getting prodded more than 3 times may result in replacement.
13: Each day will have an automatic deadline of 3*(number of players) days or 14 days, whichever is longer. I may extend it in very special circumstances.
14: If a majority is not reached by

deadline

, the

person with the highest number of votes will be lynched

. In the case of a tie, the first person to reach that number of votes will be lynched. The person who would be lynched if deadline were to reach with no changes will be indicated in votecounts with

red font

.
15:

Blue

is my color. Don't use it.

15.5: I am usually not around over weekends. If something should come up over this time please be patient. I will alter deadlines in favor of extension should they be scheduled to fall on a weekend.

[shaft.ed]

All role PM's have been confirmed. Deadline will be Tuesday April 8th at 11:39AM EST (time of Near's post below).

With seven alive it's four to lynch.

Let the games begin.

[shaft.ed]

You look up at the scoreboard. It still reads Home: 5 Away: 2
farside22's name is illuminated with a single light bulb blaring next to it.
The clock reads 18:05:49 and is still descending

Vote Count

farside22

(Thorbjorn)

Lowell

(mozsuggs)

mozsuggs

(DoctorJimmy)

Near

(Lowell)

DoctorJimmy

(Erratus Apathos)

Not voting: farside22, Near

[shaft.ed]

The intercom screeches piercing your eardrums like daggers.

It's been almost and hour and noone's said a thing. You'd best get conversing if you expect to root out the evil in this place.

mozsuggs sleeps deeply in the corner. You poke him but he continues to sleep.

[shaft.ed]

Wait, shaft.ed. What does that mean? mozsuggs is not dead, is he?

sorry that's mod flavor for "he has been prod'd and hasn't picked it up yet." Will be more clear if people prefer.

[shaft.ed]

You look up at the scoreboard. It still reads Home: 5 Away: 2
farside22's name is still illuminated now with two bulbs blaring next to it.
The clock reads 13:11:43 and is still descending

Vote Count

farside22

(Thorbjorn, Near)

Lowell

(mozsuggs, Erratus Apathos)

Near

(Lowell, farside22)

mozsuggs

(DoctorJimmy)

mozsuggs sleeps deeply in the corner. Uncle Theo is now attempting to wake him with... unconventional methods. This distraction annoys you all deeply (

flavor for I'm looking for a replacement as we speak

).

[shaft.ed]

You look up at the scoreboard. It still reads Home: 5 Away: 2
Now Near's name is illuminated with two bulbs blaring next to it.
The clock reads 10:45:37 and is still descending

Vote Count

Near

(Lowell, farside22)

mozsuggs

(DoctorJimmy, Thorbjorn)

farside22

(Near, Erratus Apathos)

Erratus Apathos

(mozsuggs)

[shaft.ed]

The intercom buzzes to life again: "You bastards have less than seven hours to decide who's not getting any money today!" and cuts back out just as suddenly. None of this wakes mozsuggs who's napping in the corner again.

Less than one week to deadline. If mozsuggs does not pick up his prod by tommorow he will be replaced

.

[shaft.ed]

You look up at the scoreboard. It still reads Home: 5 Away: 2
mozsuggs's name is now in lights with two bulbs blaring next to it.
The clock reads 6:05:12 and is still descending

Vote Count

mozsuggs

(DoctorJimmy, Thorbjorn)

DoctorJimmy

(Near, Lowell)

Near

(farside22)

Erratus Apathos

(mozsuggs)

Lowell

(Erratus Apathos)

Second time mozsuggs has not picked up his prod within 48 hrs, he will be replaced regardless of his return. farside22, I noticed you were going to be LA over the deadline, I may consider extending the deadline until your return if people feel it neccessary.

[shaft.ed]

Greasy Spot replaces mozsuggs effective immediately.

[shaft.ed]

I'll make a deal with everyone. If I see 10+ new contentful posts by tommorow morning I'll extend the deadline to Next Friday the 10th. Loopholes will not be counted.

[shaft.ed]

OK guys I'm trying to give you a break here. But after my call for content, not a single post. I'll give you a few more hours, but at this rate I see no reason to extend the lurkerfest.

[shaft.ed]

I'll give you guys the extension to accomidate Greasy Spot and farside22. Day Ends Friday.

[shaft.ed]

You look up at the scoreboard. It still reads Home: 5 Away: 2
DoctorJimmy's name is now in lights with two bulbs blaring next to it.
The clock reads 1:08:42 but suddenly jumps to 4:08:42 and continues its descent. You swear you can hear Uncle Theo muttering curses through the thick walls.

Vote Count

DoctorJimmy

(Near, Lowell)

Near

(farside22)

Lowell

(Erratus Apathos)

Greasy Spot

(Thorbjorn)

Not voting DoctorJimmy, Greasy Spot

Thorbjorn has not picked up his third prod, he will be replaced.

[shaft.ed]

You notice the faint hum of the intercom turning on. Uncle Theo then barks "I give you bastards an extra three hours and this is how you use it? I missed Wapner for this crap!"

[shaft.ed]

DrippingGoofball replaces Thorbjorn effective now

You look up at the scoreboard. It still reads Home: 5 Away: 2
GreasySpot's name is now in lights with three bulbs flashing next to it.
The clock reads 1:09:14 and continues its descent.

Vote Count

Greasy Spot

(DrippingGoofBall, Lowell, Erratus Apathos)

Lowell

(Greasy Spot, DoctorJimmy)

Near

(farside22)

DoctorJimmy

(Near)

[shaft.ed]

You look up at the scoreboard. It still reads Home: 5 Away: 2
Lowell's name is now in lights with two bulbs illuminated next to it.
The clock reads 1:00:49 and continues its descent.

Vote Count

Lowell

(Greasy Spot, DoctorJimmy)

Near

(farside22, Erattus Apathos)

Greasy Spot

(DrippingGoofBall)

DoctorJimmy

(Lowell)

Erratus Apathos

(Near)

Deadline remains for tommorow at the time of Near's first game post

[shaft.ed]

You look up at the scoreboard. It still reads Home: 5 Away: 2
Near's name is now illuminated with three bulbs flashing violently next to it.
The clock is now in red and is close to expiration.

Vote Count

Near

(farside22, Erattus Apathos, Lowell)

Lowell

(Greasy Spot, DoctorJimmy)

Greasy Spot

(DrippingGoofBall)

Erratus Apathos

(Near)

Guys please unvote before placing your votes and vote for players currently in the game

[shaft.ed]

Final Vote Count

Near

(farside22, Erattus Apathos, Lowell, DrippingGoofball)

Lowell

(Greasy Spot, DoctorJimmy)

Erratus Apathos

(Near)

DrippingGoofball casts her vote. The fourth bulb lights up next to Near's name which has switched over to a vibrant red. The clock stops, hanging in limbo at 00:09:29. The hum of the intercom turns on again. "About time you punks came up with a name." You hear the click of a lock and the door opens on its own. "Near follow the corridor to the door on your right." Near leaves the room as the door shuts loudly behind him. As his footsteps get further away you can hear him talking with your newfound uncle. Then there is a loud pop and a muffled thud. You don't like the sound of that. "You fools don't deserve this money. It should be mine!" screams Uncle Theo into the intercom. "Look on the bright side it's more inheritence for the rest of you."

The scoreboard now jumps to display Home: 4 Away: 2. Shortly after it is envoloped back into the ceiling. Six hideaway beds then fall out of the walls. "Get some rest, you'll get to do this again tommorow." The lights zap out before you get a chance to fall into bed.

Near has been removed... from contention. He was a

Good Son

.

Get your night choices to me by Tuesday noon Eastern time at the latest.

[shaft.ed]

You slept poorly last night. Besides being incredibly nervous, one of your brothers was snoring like a freight train. How he was able to sleep so soundly was beyond you. But even being awake the blaring alarm on the intercom made you leap out of bed. The fluorescent lights scorched your eyes. Looking around you noticed five of you were all quickly removed from you beds. But something was wrong with your sixth brother. Lowell's bed had a pool of blood under it. Looking closer you saw what appeared to be the handle of a letter opener sticking out of his eye socket. He'd had what appeared to be an unsuccessful lobodomy performed on him while everyone else slept.

You move his body into the corner next to the dead hobo. Rifling through his pockets you find a wallet which contains his ID, and a Medical Liscense.

Lowel was The Doctor

.

You then hear that familiar preamble, the hum of the intercom. "So the good Doctor didn't make it through the night. Seems evil is quickly winning this battle. You had best pick rightly today. You have fifteen hours."

The scoreboard falls back out of the ceiling while the beds are swallowed into the walls. It now reads Home: 3 Away: 2. The five remaining names are the only ones present on the board with three unlight lightbulbs next to each, as if Uncle Theo had somehow known of Lowell's death. Once the scoreboard reaches is lowest resting place the clock begins its descent. "With five of you left it will take three to remove the next son."

Deadline is set for Noon Eastern Tuesday April 29th.

[shaft.ed]

You look up at the scoreboard. It reads Home: 3 Away: 2.
The now familiar words Nobody are illuminated without the accompaniment of lightbulbs.
The clock reads 12:00:02 and is descedning

Vote Count

No Lynch ( )

Not voting: Everyone

[shaft.ed]

You look up at the scoreboard. It still reads Home: 3 Away: 2.
farside22's name is in lights with one bulb illuminated by its side.
The clock reads 8:12:57 and is descedning

Vote Count

farside22 (DrippingGoofball)

Not voting: farside22, Greasy Spot, DoctorJimmy, Eratus Apathos

[shaft.ed]

You look up at the scoreboard. It still reads Home: 3 Away: 2.
farside22's name is still in lights with one bulb illuminated by its side.
The clock reads 5:49:28 and is descedning

Vote Count

farside22 (DrippingGoofball)

Not voting: farside22, Greasy Spot, DoctorJimmy, Eratus Apathos

[shaft.ed]

You look up at the scoreboard. It still reads Home: 3 Away: 2.
farside22's name is still in lights this time with two bulbs illuminated by its side.
The clock reads 4:38:51 and is descedning

Vote Count

farside22 (DrippingGoofball, Erratus Apathos)

DrippingGoffball (farside22)

Not voting: Greasy Spot, DoctorJimmy

[shaft.ed]

As the final vote is cast farside22's name turns red on the scoreboard. A loud buzzer sounds. Farside is noticably nervous after what happened to Near yesterday. The door unlocks but she won't step through. The familiar hum of the intercom preludes Uncle Theo's voice "The votes have been cast, please step through the door farside." After a few second pause "Very well then." A loud bang sounds from nowhere and farside22 slumps to the floor with a gaping hole in her right temple. "She was a Good Son you know."

Knowing this signaled their impending doom Greasy Spot The Cop
And Erratos Apathos the last living Good Son

bolt for the door. But it is futile. Uncle Theo guns them both down before they can even turn the handle.

The intercom hums one last time. "DrippingGoofball and DoctorJimmy, your inheritence is waiting for you. Just go down the hall and take the first door on your right if you wish to claim it." Uncle Theo bursts into maniacle laughter that is cut short by the intercom abruptly turning off. The lights go black in the room and DGB and DoctorJimmy are left with their final decision.

Either way, the two Evil Sons

Have won the game.

[shaft.ed]

Have to say the activity level starting out this game was a bit dissapointing. I wasn't really sure what to do about it, but people were picking up their prods for the most part.

I was very surprised end game that noone noted Greasy Spot was cleared since there had to be two power roles and noone had countered.

Anyway nice game everyone and thanks a lot for replacing in Greasy Spot and DGB.

If you guys have any comments for me to improve on my mod'ing please leave feedback. I am specifically curious how you felt about the imposed deadlines. Where they too harsh? Too short? Would you rather not have a pre-existing deadline?

EDIT: Oh and I also found in incredibly interesting how correct Lowell was D1 and the fact that noone bother to even check what his thoughts were.