WATCH THE VIDEO BEFORE OPENING THE SPOILER WATCH THE VIDEO BEFORE OPENING THE SPOILER. Did you watch the video? He skids to a halt, at the ready. The two don’t appear to be carrying any weapons, although the shorter one, the human, has a manila folder hanging loosely in his hand at his side. He’s wearing a white suit, straight out of the seventies or eighties, bell bottoms included. No tie, he notes as he looks at him from inside the helmet. Blond hair, poufy. Sharp green eyes. A “sleaze” might be a good descriptor for him. The taller one draws an equal amount of attention, a fiery, bulky, burly red novakid. Jeans and a ripped up t-shirt. A lot of muscle for one man. “Colonel Dominik Sato?” This came from the human. He’s got an accent. British or Australian, he’s done a good job at mixing the two. Dominik decides that he’s in too far at this point, and nods. “Ah. If we could see, to just, confirm?” The human responds, unfolding the manila folder and looking at a file paper clipped to the inside, with two pictures inside. One of a human, and the other of a hylotl. There’s quite a bit of writing over several pages it looks like as well. “What’s it to you?” Dominik responds curtly, his body language turning slightly more aggressive. “And I’m no Colonel anymore anyway.” “This is rather necessary, I’m afraid. Will you, please?” There’s no response, but he takes the biker’s helmet, and rips it off from his head, throwing it down onto the ground revealing…a horrible face. Split right down the middle, it looks like someone cut the hylotl and the human in the photos in half, and sewed their separate halves together. Somehow the hylotl’s skin has remained moist in all of this, at least, enough that it hasn’t crinkled and dried up. Dominik glares across at the duo. “Any more demands?” “Interesting.” The human licks his lips, before pulling a paper out and passing it up to the novakid, who starts walking to Sato, who immediately tenses up, and draws a military grade pistol. “Watch it.” The novakid makes no aggressive moves, but simply offers the paper to Sato, who takes it to read it, hand still holding the pistol which is pointing at the novakid. The novakid nods, and then latches his hands around the barrel of the gun, and squeezes, before turning to walk away, leaving the barrel crushed like an aluminum straw. There’s a spark of anger in Sato’s eyes, and he considers drawing his backup and firing. But he’d recognized the absence of danger. This was just a point, and he watches the two walk off, and retires to his own room before opening the sheet of paper he had been passed. It read, quite simply in a few words: To: Colonel Dominik Sato You have been cordially invited to the pre-opening of the 777 Casino. We hope you will take advantage of this offer, as we have a special surprise for our handful of guests, something which we hope they will pass on to the rest of the “community” of which you all share strong ties to. When you arrive, you will of course be given a full tour of the facility, and a sum of three hundred thousand credits will be paid to the account of your selection. Eternally yours, The staff at 777 Casino
It’s out in the streets of Centauri V. This is one of the larger “cities” on the planet. It’s a warm, sunny day, and a man in a white suit stops to listen and watch as a small red glitch breakdances to an 8-Track playing some rap song. Eventually, he winks, and tosses several credits into a hat on the ground in front of the glitch, before sliding off into a club to get seated… He waits until after sipping a cocktail for a bit, before ushering over one of the waitresses. “Take this to Madame Grapelance, and ask if she will speak with me?” He says, handing the waitress a large, black feather, with beads fixed to the end of it. There’s a brief wait, before Madame Grapelance comes out herself. They’re a short, stout floran, with prying, beady eyes. Their hair is flat, in a sort of almost bun-shape. “So, what can I do for you young man?” They ask, stressing each word slowly and prudently as they sit opposite him. “I just wanted to meet you in person, and extend to you this…” He says, as he slides an invitation, much like the others which have gone out, across the table to them. “That’s all.” Madame Grapelance picks up the invite, reads it over, and sets it down. “I’ll come. It reminds me of something my second husband would do. Yes indeed.” With a brief nod, the man gets up, thanks them for their hospitality and pays before leaving…
@FranticLibra's game, Praise the Sun, has it's signups open. Join now! http://community.playstarbound.com/threads/135433/
The officer shifts anxiously in their seat across from the desk. For the thirtieth time today, they feel the horrible sickening feeling in their stomach. They screwed up badly, which is why they are sitting across from Sergeant Porphyrion Spark Sr, as indicated by the small brass nameplate on the desk. He's a brilliant yellow Novakid, with what looks suspiciously like a hammer as his brand, angled at roughly 45 degrees...and he leans across towards the officer before speaking. "So. To be clear. You let a man just waltz in, flash a badge, and then visit your top suspect, which allowed him to escape with her. And all because he flashed a badge that might have looked like one of ours." There's a restless shift as the officer nods shamefully at their feet. Sgt Spark stands up, and then pauses as there's a knock on his door. "What?!" He barks, as it's opened by a small pale blue novakid in a courier's uniform, carrying a package under her arm. She darts forward and sets it on his desk, before offering a clipboard and getting his signature, and scurrying bashfully out. Spark growls, and snatches up his coffee cup. "I'm going to get a coffee. And I want you to think about what you've done, and what it means not just for you, but for everyone else." He disappears down the hall, closing the door behind him, and refills his cup slowly, mulling over everything that's happened over the past month, which started with a huge fallout between him and his son...it's just gotten progressively worse. He storms back to his office, and grips the old fashioned doorknob, when it happened. The door blasted back, an explosion rocketing and billowing outward from the package on his desk, the officer inside burned to a crisp for certain. Sgt. Porphyrion didn't even have time to think, or register what was happening, as his consciousness slowly faded away...to black.
In case you didn't already know, your representative advanced to the wildcard game, and that game has now started! We're halfway through Day 1: http://www.mafiauniverse.com/forums...d-Game-1-For-the-Birds-The-Mafia-Championship If you want to join the spectator chat, there's a link to the Discord in the OP of the game thread. We're approx. 700 people on the server, and it's lots of fun
@FranticLibra here's another And WC, go here and watch this thread, this'll be where the next game is. http://community.playstarbound.com/threads/135433/
Two files of interest. Lord Ernst Cranwell (there is an attached photo, of a scarlet hylotl, wearing a red cowl, there are no notable fins on his face, he looks almost like a red skull in a red cloak, if it weren't for the fire in his eyes. It gives you chills.) This is to announce the passing of Lord Ernst Cranwell, this past Tuesday. Lord Cranwell (127) died of a coronary while swimming in the Thames. The multimillionaire owned the well known Cranwell estates to the north of the city of London, as well as an assortment of other holdings intergalactically, and is well recognized for assisting various charities through the years in their endeavors, with his fortune of somewhat shady origin. He is survived only by his three close friends, Alverne Nyste (and his wife, Vitis), noted food and agricultural business magnate, Dr. Lumen Fleux, best known for their contributions to the field of parasitic infections, and finally, Governor Nemo Trost of Achilles Sun Cluster Industries. Lord Cranwell's will has already been disclosed, and the entire estate is to be sold at auction one month from today, with all profits going to assorted charities detailed in the will. Seven Years Ago. The following details, graphically and in full the death of Sir Alverne Nyste, the noted food and agricultural business magnate. (Dubbed Alverne "The Faminizer" Nyste by the public, after recent events causing mass starvation across twelve star systems due to Alverne Enterprises withholding necessary supplies from the inhabitants, demanding exorbitant sums of money in exchange for the goods.) Sir Nyste was found at approximately 3 AM on July 7th, in the swimming pool of the Achilles Hotel (Cantillon V location), floating facedown, with thousands of shards of glass sunk in the pool or elsewhere on the decking area around. Cause of death is uncertain, however, it appears from hotel security cameras that time of death was several minutes prior to hitting the surface of the water. Lungs were full of air, and there did not appear to be any signs of struggle in the four hundred and seventy-fifth floor flat which he had been occupying shortly before his plummet. Judging from the angle of descent, and position of the body, cause of death was complications resulting from a broken neck, however, the spinal cord had been severed moments before TOD, and would likely have resulted in permanent paralysis if not death had he not died shortly afterward. It is difficult to precisely identify the direction of fracture of the neck which caused the failure of life, as the descent and final impact in the pool splintered nearly every bone in the Apex's body. The cut of the spinal cord was done by an ornamental blade approximately twelve and a half inches long, recovered at the scene. Experts from the Kluex temple have identified the blade as a traditional ceremonial dagger, used in ritual sacrifice to appease and please the great god. Autopsy reveals that Sir Nyste was not drugged or knocked out at time of death, and security footage from outside of his room do not reveal signs of any intruder to his premises. Top suspect is Vitis Nyste, his wife, who stands to benefit the most from his death. Retracted after alibi was provided by fifteen witnesses, placing her well outside of the range of Alverne on the night of death. No further suspects of major note have been presented, and it is unlikely that the case will be picked up or handled again without new evidence regarding the case. -777-
You are entitled to as many wild guesses as you like I don't necessarily have to answer But no, it won't be
http://community.playstarbound.com/threads/praise-the-sun-ii-signups.136306/#post-3204315 Next game thread is up! Go sign up officially by going here!
"And...you want to dance with...me?" The hylotl looks the novakid up and down curiously. It's not completely unsurprising, but still, this guy's something of a catch for the night. "What's your name?" Maybe that will shed some light, trying to get money off of them for some charity event or another. The hylotl is used to that, people asking for money for their various charities, and has taken the time to memorize a good deal of names so that they can avoid those people when she's on vacation. "Remington Steele!" The novakid responds almost garishly, playfully, sliding onto the stool beside the hylotl, and putting a foggy looking martini on the counter. And that's where it went wrong for poor Mr. Steele, as a hand taps him on the shoulder, and a voice with a British accent speaks up. "Spiro Holmes, do you have a moment of time?" The novakid turns to see a human with horribly outdated fashion senses...grinning at him with teeth that could reflect a thousand suns in here. "Who?" He's a poor liar under pressure, and the hylotl catches this immediately. "You, Mr. Holmes. Perhaps somewhere more private?" The human responds, as another novakid makes his way over, looking horribly out of place in a tuxedo. Big and buff are the easiest ways to describe this one. And fiery and red. "I don't know what you're talking about and I would ask that you please just go away!" Spiro squeaks out, glancing around the room in a panic. "As you can see, I have a date!" As he indicates the hylotl he had been approaching. "It will only be a moment, Mr. Holmes." Responds the human mildly, as the red novakid picks Spiro up from under the arms and slings him over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. "The coat closet should do well enough." And with spluttering protests from Spiro, the trio make their way into the coat closet. A few minutes later, Spiro comes out of the closet, looking crumpled and frazzled, a sort of nervous energy about him. His target has already left while he was in the closet...he spends a while dancing, but there aren't really a lot of people of note here tonight. A night wasted because of an invite. Or was it? I had some issues and the original video was blocked, I believe I fixed them, but if I did not, here's the image and the song as separate files.
I've debated for a long time about what to do about this, about what to do with the Penguin Arena. How much to say. And where I want to go from here. At first, I thought powering through was the answer. You have a story, you tell it. After all, the wrongs of the world wouldn't be there forever, or at the least, two words could be uttered. I appreciate that this is very cryptic. And it is because over the course of two years, a series of events sent me spiraling down a path I never want to go down again. I am fortunate. My life was recoverable, nay, not terribly damaged by the time I pulled myself out of it. But most of you deserve to know why I am about to do what I am doing. Why I am leaving Chucklefish, but especially Chucklefish mafia. I don't know how long. Probably forever, for my own safety. I've meandered to avoid talking about all of this, so now here it is, short and sweet: Run. Two people in this particular are either toxic or deadly. Never speak with them again. They know who they are. That said, go ahead and talk to them, because maybe you will have better than I. I didn't come to this realization for either of them until around May this year. I'm sorry for meandering again, this is very hard, for a number of reasons. But the climax of my emotional spiral happened in May, when I went silent. Absolutely silent, I didn't message anyone or do anything. I made reactionary replies to the one person who messaged me, after extended periods. He noticed. I'd stopped talking to him months ago. He was the only one who did. The person in this community who I messaged daily? Didn't give a fucking damn. You could ask how I knew, and I think the fact that after I spent a year supporting them, and helping them through their various dramas, only to have them say, to paraphrase, but it's still fairly close to what they said, "I can't deal with this right now." And they never did. They ran. I have no respect for this kind of person. In fact, I actively scorn the person who does this, and who grew up in the southern atmosphere of hospitality. It actively angers me that someone could be this ignorant. I find myself substituting the wrong words here, and for those of you who don't know, I'm very mild mannered. It takes a lot to get me worked up. I've nearly blacked out three times now while writing this up, the emotions over this are so strong. But no more will I lie in apathy. Well that was lovely. If you wish to know more, you'll have to DM me, because I cannot say more right now about them without blacking out. And all it could have taken were two words to have defused this bomb. "I'm sorry." You seem to have forgotten your humanity somewhere. We aren't perfect. But fessing up to it is the most important thing about it. The other person, I have significantly less to say about, because I can still have sustained conversations with them. They won't run and hide. But they're a passive aggressive little bugger who complains rather more than is good for them. I personally think this is the environment they grew up in, and I won't hold it much against them, other than to say that, maybe just maybe, they could have noticed when people weren't feeling their best, and had a little... sensitivity to the issue. And I'm not even talking about myself here, this is rather a blanket term for a trio who each went through their own struggles. But hey, they'll manage just fine, and I do wish this one the best of luck in the world. Two last things: Some of you might think that I wish them to pass on, given the tone of my voice. This could not be further from the truth. I wish them long life. There's an ancient curse you probably have heard of. "May you live in interesting times." I say that to the both of them. Not just in the hope that their lives will be hard. But in the hope that, if they learn how to not do what they have already, they might make something out of those interesting times. Because I know those interesting times will in a way, be a product of their own making. What will happen to the Penguin Arena? I'm leaving. As in, goodbye. Adieu. If you want to talk to me, PM me. If you want to take over the arena, I can give you what I have, minus the rolelists for the most part. I don't know if I'll give you the story though. It's rather the product of a broken individual. Good writing, yes. And for that, I want to thank the person who helped me ruin my life the most over the course of a year. Tragedy really does make victory so much the sweeter. So, goodbye, may you all enjoy the fruits of labor. If you want to talk to me, PM me, and I'll give you my discord. -Note: I sent this in the discord chat about a week ago, it's taken me some time to get this sent here. It's been somewhat painful.
I appreciate that I effectively burned this place to the ground when I left. However I thought I would drop in and let you know that Mafia Universe is once again hosting their annual intercommunity Mafia Championships, and Chucklefish made the list. So you all can send someone as a representative if you so chose.
The Mafia Championships are back! Here's the invitation from Thingyman: INVITATION TO THE MAFIA CHAMPIONSHIP (SEASON 5) Hello there! It is with great pleasure that I hereby invite your community to take part in Season 5 of the Mafia Championship. The Mafia Championship is an annual forum tournament series that pits representatives from various online Mafia (aka Werewolf) communities against one another as they compete to determine the Internet’s greatest forum Mafia player. Each participating community democratically elects one person to represent them and be their “Champion”. The whole thing started back in 2013, and since then more than 225 different communities and 50+ different nationalities have been represented. I hope it sounds like a fun and exciting event 1. DO YOU ACCEPT THE INVITE? If your community wishes to participate, please confirm your participation to me as soon as you can to ensure yourselves a spot. If you agree to participate, the deadline for selecting your representative is May 1. If this is too soon for you to decide on anyone, let me know and we can work something out. The games will take place on Mafia Universe. If it’s okay, I can link directly to the general discussion thread regarding this topic on Mafia Universe. Important notes You may decide yourselves how you want to elect your representative, but we highly recommend some sort of democratic process (public nominations followed by a poll usually works out well). In addition to electing a representative, you should also name an alternate who will be asked to step in if the first choice needs to back out. Your representative should be prepared for having to read upwards of 500 posts per 24 hours during the early stages of the game. Additionally, there’s a requirement that each player must make at least 10 posts per Game Day. Only active players should apply/participate. I repeat: Your chosen player needs to be able to promise a good amount of activity on a daily basis. 2. SEASON 5 FORMAT The tournament structure 170 communities will participate, each sending one representative. 10 Qualifying Games will be played, consisting of 17 players each. I.e. every representative plays in one Qualifying Game. The players themselves vote post-game to determine who is deserving of advancement. 1st place will advance directly to the Finale Game (i.e. 10 of the 17 finalists are found this way), while the 2nd places will advance directly to one of the two Wildcard Games. A Jury consisting of finalists from Season 4 will discuss and vote to determine 25 players in total deserving of a second chance: 1 will advance directly to the finale, and the 24 other players will play in 2 Wildcard Games along with the 2nd places that advanced directly to these. From each game, three players will directly advance to the Finale Game based on a post-game player vote. The Finale Game is played. Once it has completed, the players vote to determine who shall receive the title of Season 5 Champion and a winner’s certificate signed by Dmitry Davidoff, the creator of mafia. The setup explained very briefly (more details on host site) This (view picture below) is a semi-open grid setup meant for 17 players: 4 mafia versus 13 townies. First you randomly select a number to decide the mafia team's composition of Power Roles (1-2), then you randomly select a letter to decide the town's composition of Power Roles (A-E). Fill in the number of Vanilla Townies needed to make the town team have 13 members total, and you have your setup. *Town Jack of All Trades: 1x Vigilante, 1x Roleblocker, 1x Tracker. Relevant mechanics info Day start. Deadline Lynch w/ Option for Majority starting Day 2. I.e. when day timer runs out, person with most votes will be lynched. However, day can also be ended early (starting Day 2) if there is ever a majority of votes on one person. If there is a tied lynch, one of the tied players will be randomly lynched. No outside communication. I.e. you may not contact the other players outside of the thread (unless you are Mafia and wish to speak with your teammates). Phase Lengths and Deadlines will be up to the players themselves (I’ll organize them into games with deadlines that suit their preferences). Thread is locked during Night Phases. 3. SEASON 5 TIMELINE There will be 10 Qualifying Games, and your representative plays in just one of these. They will have start dates during the months of May and June. So in other words, as long as your representative can play sometime during that period, they should be good and I’ll make sure they get scheduled into a game that suits their schedule well. I.e. if your rep is busy until June, that isn’t a problem. Wildcard games will be played in July, and the Finale Game sometime in August/September (whenever we can work out something that suits everyone). Kind regards, Thingyman If you want to get in contact with me ASAP, you can find me on Discord (Thingyman#6075).
Funny we're in this, still. It's been, what, 9 months since the last game? Anyway, does anyone want to nominate themselves? Don't know if we have anyone around to play this year, so I guess that's the method we should roll with. Don't flatter yourself too much. Though, maybe you should keep at it, since we all should pursue the things we're best at. Anyway, most of the playerbase became inactive long before you made your dramatic exit.
Yeah, I second that nomination. I think you did well last game I played with you, and I'd love to see you expand your horizons. But be warned, the Championships are heckin' intense compared to here. It might be a good idea to read over some previous games to see the activity level and familiarize yourself with the tools MafiaUniverse provides before committing to it. I'm not intending to go again, lol. The last Championships pretty well burnt me out, and I kinda wanna focus on real life right now.