[GAME OVER - TOWN WIN] The Comedy Club
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Infected_alien8_
Garry's Mod Admin
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Nottykitten - Timdood3, Mooglie, Nottykitten, hipmeow (4/4)
--
The speaker sound pierces the air of the Lobby.
"Ah. So you've made your decision. And it seems you're all a bit more decisive than yesterday.
Very well.
You. The one voted.
You surely know what to do by now.
On stage."
The person you voted for, after a little hesitation, walks slowly towards the raised platform at the back of the room. They climb up.
"Good. Face the curtain."
The person you voted for steps in front of the curtain and faces it.
The curtains open up from the centre.
"And... step-"
The person you voted for turns around and runs. They leap off the stage and grab somebody - one of the others you've come to know these last few days - and locks their arms around their neck, backing up towards the wall. Their eyes are wide, burning with insanity.
"I'LL KILL THEM."
They tighten their grip on the person they've grabbed as they struggle to free themselves.
"I'LL KILL EVERY LAST ONE OF THEM AND YOU WON'T HAVE ANY MORE TO PERFORM. I'LL DO IT."
You look around at the others, in shock of the events unfolding. The person you voted for frantically glares at each of you, grinding their teeth like a wolf.
There's a moment of quiet as you all await the voice's response.
And then... the voice lets out a small chuckle.
"I'LL DO IT. DON'T UNDERESTIMATE ME."
"I warned you not to do this. I have it well within my rights to do as much as I desire to get you onto that stage once you've been voted. And you will go on stage. Alive or... barely."
Suddenly a loud sound of machinery and a 'bzzzt' emerges from around you, and across the tops of each of the walls of the Lobby, several machines of some sort unfold outwards and point what look like turrets at the person you voted for.
"Let them go. Now."
The person you voted for opens their mouth. Their eyes are wild and crazed.
"NOW."
They let out a scream. "NO. YOU CAN'T DO THIS. YOU CAN'T DO THIS. YOU CAN'T -"
A loud gunshot sound falls down on the room.
The person you voted for yelps and lets go of the person they were holding, who runs off to the side.
They grab their leg in pain and fall to the floor, screaming.
"Get up or the other leg will be next. MOVE."
They sit in agony, holding their leg, twisting their neck and crying.
The voice sighs.
"Somebody please help them."
Suddenly the person you voted for quietens. They grit their teeth, grunting, and then begin to crawl towards the stage, leaving a thin trail of blood as they go.
Eventually, they get there. They grab the top of the stage with their arms and heave themselves up, screaming in pain as they do so. Their strength is impressive.
They make it up on top, and crawl towards the grey concrete wall that the curtains revealed.
"Good."
The curtains close behind them.
The same sound as the other times - the moving of metal and releasing of air - fill the Lobby room. Then you hear a grunt. And then the noise of metal and releasing air come again.
"I don't need to remind you, I'm sure, of how important this performance is. Don't underestimate what would happen to you if you failed to deliver. Make them laugh."
Nottykitten - Timdood3, Mooglie, Nottykitten, hipmeow (4/4)
--
The speaker sound pierces the air of the Lobby.
"Ah. So you've made your decision. And it seems you're all a bit more decisive than yesterday.
Very well.
You. The one voted.
You surely know what to do by now.
On stage."
The person you voted for, after a little hesitation, walks slowly towards the raised platform at the back of the room. They climb up.
"Good. Face the curtain."
The person you voted for steps in front of the curtain and faces it.
The curtains open up from the centre.
"And... step-"
The person you voted for turns around and runs. They leap off the stage and grab somebody - one of the others you've come to know these last few days - and locks their arms around their neck, backing up towards the wall. Their eyes are wide, burning with insanity.
"I'LL KILL THEM."
They tighten their grip on the person they've grabbed as they struggle to free themselves.
"I'LL KILL EVERY LAST ONE OF THEM AND YOU WON'T HAVE ANY MORE TO PERFORM. I'LL DO IT."
You look around at the others, in shock of the events unfolding. The person you voted for frantically glares at each of you, grinding their teeth like a wolf.
There's a moment of quiet as you all await the voice's response.
And then... the voice lets out a small chuckle.
"I'LL DO IT. DON'T UNDERESTIMATE ME."
"I warned you not to do this. I have it well within my rights to do as much as I desire to get you onto that stage once you've been voted. And you will go on stage. Alive or... barely."
Suddenly a loud sound of machinery and a 'bzzzt' emerges from around you, and across the tops of each of the walls of the Lobby, several machines of some sort unfold outwards and point what look like turrets at the person you voted for.
"Let them go. Now."
The person you voted for opens their mouth. Their eyes are wild and crazed.
"NOW."
They let out a scream. "NO. YOU CAN'T DO THIS. YOU CAN'T DO THIS. YOU CAN'T -"
A loud gunshot sound falls down on the room.
The person you voted for yelps and lets go of the person they were holding, who runs off to the side.
They grab their leg in pain and fall to the floor, screaming.
"Get up or the other leg will be next. MOVE."
They sit in agony, holding their leg, twisting their neck and crying.
The voice sighs.
"Somebody please help them."
Suddenly the person you voted for quietens. They grit their teeth, grunting, and then begin to crawl towards the stage, leaving a thin trail of blood as they go.
Eventually, they get there. They grab the top of the stage with their arms and heave themselves up, screaming in pain as they do so. Their strength is impressive.
They make it up on top, and crawl towards the grey concrete wall that the curtains revealed.
"Good."
The curtains close behind them.
The same sound as the other times - the moving of metal and releasing of air - fill the Lobby room. Then you hear a grunt. And then the noise of metal and releasing air come again.
"I don't need to remind you, I'm sure, of how important this performance is. Don't underestimate what would happen to you if you failed to deliver. Make them laugh."
Infected_alien8_
Garry's Mod Admin
The monitor above the stage flickers to reveal the same dark image of the auditorium as before.
After a few moments, it lights up a little more, and you can make out the audience a little better. Not all of them are jumping up and down this time. About half of them are.
Another few moments pass.
And then the screen lights up more, and a burst of static lets loose the audience's cheers and screaming. It isn't quite as unbearable as it has been for the past two times, but it is still very, uncomfortably loud. You look at the stage at the back of the auditorium. For a moment, you see the same stage in your mind's eye - but with a large, impossibly black shadow rising above it.
Last night's stage.
Your hands feel cold again all of a sudden. You swallow. You stare into it, feeling your skin getting colder and colder, your heart slowing down, beads of sweat forming on your forehead.
And then you're snapped back to the present and escape it, as the voice bellows from the monitor.
"ANNNNNND NOW. THE MOMENT YOU'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR. PLEASE GIVE A LOUD, LOUD WELCOME... TOOOO.... THE COMEDIAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!"
The audience's cheers and screams grow louder, getting closer to being unbearable.
Something moves at the back of the stage, and the person you voted, on hands and knees, crawls on slowly, like a wounded animal.
The volume of the audience suddenly increases again. You flinch. It is now, once again, unbearably loud.
After a few moments, the person you voted for reaches the microphone. They grab the microphone stand and bend it down towards them as they kneel on stage.
The audience quietens down.
The room is silent.
"TELL US YOUR NAME, COMEDIAN."
They wince in pain as they speak.
"Stacey".
"AND WHAT IS YOUR JOKE FOR US TODAY, COMEDIAN?"
"Once upon a time there was a man named John McMillan who had nine toes and an axe to grind with his hairdresser Gally. It was a beautiful sunny day like it had never been before in the village of Montenui, surely not one John had ever experienced. Like any other day John still decided to sleep in untill it was 9'o clock. He did not need an alarm for he had a natural talent for waking up on time. Once the clock reached northwest John got up and went to take a shower. He put some protective plastic around his less than average right foot and grabbed a new bottle of shampoo. After showering John shaved his armpits and decided he was ready for work. His jeans looked sharp and his shirt was a nice sueve blue that you could find in a lot of 80's movies and also John's closet.
John got in his car and started the engine. The radio turned on simultaniously, tuned in to his usual station 'Country rock FM'. As John took off from his driveway the song 'Big Enough' was playing and he happily sang along. His car was a 1969' metallic blue Mustang that he inherited from his father after he died of a heart attack while salsa dancing with Johns mother in law at a state-wide competition. The rims of the car were a deep black and reflected the sun back onto the pavement as John rode over the highway. The trip towards his work was only twenty minutes and without any traffic issues John arrived at his work. Strange, John thought to himself, as the previous few days there had always been a chain collision caused by marijouhana enthousiasts. Maybe they did not ascend on fridays? Truth be told John felt like he was getting a little on the older side and that he could not keep up with the new crazes of the kids these days. This made his job as a highschool teacher all the more difficult. Miss Paige, the English teacher, swore that a kid last week (whom he knew had to be Brian) held 5 fidget spinners at once and pretended to be an attack helicoptor while simultaniously swinging his natural propellor. The kid did not get any suspension and Miss Paige soon took a leave of absense that will most likely be forever. Walking through the hallways John ran into his favorite student Claire.
"What up Mr McMillan, hows it hanging?" Claire said with a big smile.
John thought to himself that was quite an inappropriate question but he answered it anyways. "Same as usual I guess." John responded.
"So I was wondering, for my creative writing assignment, could I write a piece about Hitler and whether or not would join the Area 51 raid? Purely fictional ofcourse."
"You do you Claire, just make sure that Hitlers motivations are proper this time." John said while looking over Claires shoulder. Did he just see Brian give a kid a wedgy? Whatever.
"Thank you Mr McMillan you are the best teacher in all the kingdoms" Claire said while enticingly scribbling some ideas into her notebook.
They split apart and John went to his classroom. It was barely ten in the morning and he already wanted it to be weekend. John had something special planned for this weekend to finally get back at that damned hairdresser Gally who was involved with the losing of his most precious toe. The day went by rather smoothly and even Jackson refrained from sniffing glue that day. John got back in his car and decided to stop by a seven eleven for some hot coco.
"Welcome to this seven eleven how can I help you today good sir" the guy behind the counter said uninterrested and looking at seeminly risky pictures of what John swears is lasagna.
"I'll have one hot coco please."
"It's like a hundred degrees outside."
"Who are you, the freacking weather boy? Just make me my coco." John said getting visibly irritated that someone would question his beverage choices.
"One hot coco coming up, is that all?"
"Yes." John said and then he paid 5 dollars. He took a quick sip of the hot coco and immediately noticed that it was not hot.
"Excuse m-" John tried to say but he was interrupted before he could finish.
"Literally just take it outside man the sun will do the rest ever heard of going green." the counter clerk said.
"Yeah its what all the girls do when they see your face."
John went outside and much to his dismay the clerk was right and the coco warmed right up, though it did warm his mood. A bird had pooped on his windshield, for the third time in five years, and John practically lost it right there and then. He went back into the store, grabbed some cleanex and cleaned his windshield while grunting like he was following trampoline excercizes from daytime television. Johns mood suddenly went brighter as he realized what time it was. Aside from five'o clock it was payback time. And this time Gally would not get away with it by threatening his wife as Mandy was hit by a yellow car while in the ambulance with Johns father on the way to the hospital and died on impact. 'Nothing to lose' John kept mubmling to himself as he strapped on his leather seatbelt and drove straight towards the hairsalon.
There she was walking her son over the parking lot back into her shop. Did he mention that her son is Brian? Yes that Brian, the one that during mandatory swimming lessons wore a fursuit and told the faculty that cats do not like water. After beign forced to take it off Gally sued the school for discrimination and now once every year teachers have to wear fursuits to show their inclusiveness. God how John could just rip apar this Owl costume if he would not lose his job over it.
"THIS IS YOUR END GALLY" John shouted as he drove straight towards. Gally pushed Brian out of the way but it did not matter for John accidentally hit another pedestrian that happened to walk between them and John and came to a complete stop.
"OH MY GOD TIMOTHOM" John heard a familiar voice say. It was Miss Paige and she was in tears as her favorite boyfriend was all over the deep black rims. John felt terrible and felt like he had to apologize to Miss Paige. Instead he did not apologize and got out of his car. Gally may of won this round, but she did not account for Johns plan B. You see, John had accounted for the fact Gally may outsmart him and made a contingency plan. If she somehow survived, John would instead grab his guitar from the backseat of the car and visciously play the macarena to confuse Gally. Then when she is at her most distressed that is when the fat lady starts singing. John had it all planned out, no way Gally would know of this plan.
"Grabbing your Guitar are we now John?" Gally said with a smile on her face. "You didn't really think that this would work on me do ya?"
John looked visibly confused and a hint of sadness in his eyes and the deep red rims of his mustang. How did she know?
"Gotta hand it to you John, you surprised me by how easely I could figure out your plan. I know everything. Well, except for what that thing on the back of your car is. Such a strange shape, must be from some far away land like Pennsylvania" Gally said.
Aha, John thought, something Gally did not know. "Well well well Gally, guess I have stumped you yet again. I ac-"
"Is it even called stumping if you only have nine toes?" Gally said while laughing. Brian laughed too but not at the joke. He's been laughing for a couple minutes now.
"I swear Gally ..." John said. He felt like he had to try and take the high road so instead he went to educate her instead. "Want to know what that thing on the back of my car is?"
"Amuse me." Gally said intrugued.
"You see Gally, that is what we call a"
As the person finishes speaking, they let go of the microphone stand, and it falls to the stage floor. They look down, looking exhausted.
The room, as always, is dead silent.
For what feels long a long time.
Completely still.
Completely lifeless.
...
...
...
And then there's a little giggle.
And then there's another.
And another. And another. And another. And the whole auditorium is suddenly bursting with painfully loud laughter. Your ear drums ache. They laugh and laugh and scream and clap and squeal and it goes on and on and on and on. And it doesn't stop. They keep on laughing, and your ear drums keep on aching, as though something is continuously beating on them to bruise them. It hurts and it goes on and on and on and on and you need it to stop. You can't take much more of it.
And then, all of a sudden, you see two thick, wooden poles come out of the walls on either side of the stage, towards the person you voted for.
The audience roars with excitement.
As the poles near the person on stage, two tiny lines of metal with pincers on the end of them extend from the ends of each wooden pole, grab the person's arms, and pull them from each side.
The person you voted for's face flinches and they let out a quiet moan, turning to see the wooden poles and looking confused and frightened.
And then wooden poles begin to retract back into the walls, stretching the person's arms out from both sides.
The audience laughs louder and louder.
The person you voted for screams. And then screams again, louder. And then again, even louder. And then they don't stop screaming.
A chorus of laughter, cheering, screaming in joy and screaming in pain erupt from the room, getting louder and louder and louder and louder, engulfing the whole auditorium in a chorus of screams in horror and pain, and incessant, unwavering laughter.
The person you voted for's eyes are wide. Their neck twists violently from side to side.
"PLEASE. NO. STOP. PLEASE. PLEASE."
The audience's cheering and laughter and screaming claws at your eardrums. They overwhelm you. You can't do this. You can't do this anymore.
And then the person you voted for lets out a slow, blood-curdling scream of agony.
It shakes the building.
You feel something inside your heart snap.
And then you hear a large crack as the person you voted for's right arm is ripped from their torso. It looks almost pathetic from a distance, like a small insect's limb being pulled off. It sprays a thick fountain of dark blood across the stage and the wooden pole which still holds it in its grip.
The person you voted for is still screaming in agony. You wince and you feel sick. And they are dragged across the stage by the other wooden pole which still pulls their left arm. Screaming and shaking, staring at their arm across the stage, gallons of blood pumping out of where their arm once was and covering the stage in a river of dark red blood, eyes wide with terror, they suddenly fall silent and their head drops to their chest.
Their lifeless body is still being slowly dragged across the stage by the wooden pole, wiping a thick trail of blood across it.
The audience laugh and laugh and laugh and laugh. It gets louder and louder and louder and louder. It engulfs you in a huge ball of it.
It disorientates you.
It is painful.
You really, really can't do this anymore.
You fight the feeling of weakness that claws at you.
And you want to kill them.
You wan't to kill every last one of them.
You want to rip them apart and choke them and pound your fist into their faces and scream at them and kill them over and over and over and over.
But they just keep laughing and laughing and laughing and laughing and laughing and the stage keeps filling with blood and the body is still moving across it and you still feel so weak, so helpless. So angry.
And then you see it.
Something dark - a lot of dark somethings - are rising from where the torn body is on stage.
For a moment your heart tenses up with dread, fearful for seeing the shadow again, The Darkness. You can't bear to see it again.
But as you watch, you realise it is something different.
A dozen or so of small, black, thin, disk-like shapes are fluttering gently above the stage. They rise higher and higher, light as feathers, twirling and dipping and spinning with grace.
They rise and rise and they are... beautiful.
...Peaceful.
They are like dark, pretty butterflies.
The audience are suddenly quiet, no longer jumping up and down.
They collectively let out an aw of appreciation.
And after a moment, a quiet applause breaks out across the room.
Your heart feels lighter somehow. You feel... beauty. Safety. Tranquillity.
And then a burst of static cuts out the sound, and the monitor goes black.
You stand still in the Lobby.
You blink.
You are stunned and confused as to how you feel. Your mind switches back and forth between the bloody, torn corpse of the person you voted for, and the dark, angelic butterfly-like creatures that rose from their body afterwards.
The microphone suddenly switches on.
"Ahahahahahahaha... that... that was wonderful. That really was good timing. Perhaps this place has been blessed by some God of luck. Hahaha...
Yes. I'm pleased with that. The audience got a kick out of the performance, and then a sweet after-show of something they've appreciated before. I think that will be very helpful in getting the reviews back up. What marvellous timing.
Ah... yes. I should probably explain what you just witnessed.
Those... things, those disk-like creatures. Those... were spirits.
I suppose I should have no doubt about you believing me now, after all you've seen. So yes. They were spirits.
They, like The Darkness, reside in the Comedy Club. They serve The Darkness, in fact. Which may be a little confusing at first, because they look and move so... beautifully. It's just how they are. I've seen them before.
The Darkness' servants, when they are, er, enslaved, are sometimes left with certain... abilities. Powers that The Darkness sees fit for them. One of those powers in the past was the ability to communicate with those spirits and use their powers to aid The Darkness. And when that person was sent on stage, the same thing happened. It was beautiful. The audience loved it.
But... those spirits are not to be underestimated. They have quite the powerful spell at their disposal. Partial atomic reconfiguration is what a scientist I knew once called it. They can, to a certain extent, vanish material possessions into thin air. The only requirements are that those materials were found by their current owner recently, and that they don't have any significant emotional attachment to the owner.
I imagine that's how they were used here, too.
Oh, and they also tend to enjoy playing with corpses. They do... something to them. I'm not quite sure what. But - I believe - they are the ones responsible for the blackening of the cue cards and pamphlets that belong to the deceased, if you've ever noticed that. And I think it is also they who are responsible for the, er... unpleasant aura that the corpses leave behind. A convenient side effect of their power, from what I've read. They make the body seem unbearably disgusting to prevent anybody from interfering with it while they work to darken some of the possessions that they couldn't take away. So... there's some more information for you.
Anyway. I really am optimistic with how that performance went down. I think we're probably safe. So that's a relief.
The map is updated on the monitor, and the timer will begin shortly. Choose a place to spend the night. After seeing the spirits, you should hopefully enjoy a feeling of calm tonight. The effect they have on people is quite extraordinary."
The speaker sound leaves the room in silence, and then the monitor flickers to reveal the map, and then the one minute countdown.
TIME UNTIL POWER FAILURE: 1:00
--
Nottykitten was Stacey, Follower of the Darkness 2:
"The Darkness is a kind God. It has granted you talents, promised you everlasting tranquillity, and revealed to you the true nature of this world, the corruption that festers around you. Your peers are not in their right mind. They are brainwashed, and only you and the Darkness can free them. You offer your assistance. It whispers to you during the night. It kindly considers your requests. It will never harm you, for it never harms those it loves. The Darkness is a kind, loving God.
Furthermore, The Darkness has granted you access to strange powers that you barely understand. You have a feeling that certain parts of the building will be useful to you, but you aren’t quite sure how just yet.
Alignment: Mafia
Role: Follower of The Darkness 2
Abilities: ??? (Told they need to go to the Basement to use their powers upon seeing the monitor. Unlocked when spending the Night in the Basement: If spending the night in either the Basement, Bathroom or Upstairs Dressing Room, you can choose any player and prevent them from obtaining any new possessions that night and destroy any possessions they have found whilst being at the Club. This is the last thing to happen during the Night.)
List of Follower Abilities (shared actions that require consensus are marked with [Y]):
- Given information on The Darkness
- Able to enter Engulfed rooms at night [makes you vulnerable to the Darkness (but they cannot kill you, only try)]
- [Y] During the Night, prevent the Darkness' kill for that night and choose anybody to murder for yourself. One use per three day cycle. [Once on Nights 1, 2 OR 3, once on Nights 4, 5 OR 6, etc.]. Unlike the Darkness kill, this kill can be prevented [Darkness kill only fails to go through if it hits a Follower]. Cannot both do this and carry out another action
- [Y] During the Intermission, recommend to the Darkness one target each night to Kill, Paralyze (roleblock) and/or Empathise (inspect role), on preference levels of Strong, Moderate or Weak
- Able to communicate to fellow Follower at all times
- Unable to be killed by The Darkness [if tried results in no Darkness kill]
- Know each morning which rooms will be engulfed during the Intermission [you will be told which rooms will be engulfed Night 1 once all role PMs have been confirmed and The Darkness has made their choice]
- Receive investigation results that The Darkness receives
- One of you will become The Darkness if The Darkness dies [if all Followers are alive you may choose who when the time comes]
- Reveal the rest of the Mafia team to The Darkness upon your death
- Know the identity of The Darkness
Win condition: Have the Mafia compose of at least 50% of the alive players"
--
After a few moments, it lights up a little more, and you can make out the audience a little better. Not all of them are jumping up and down this time. About half of them are.
Another few moments pass.
And then the screen lights up more, and a burst of static lets loose the audience's cheers and screaming. It isn't quite as unbearable as it has been for the past two times, but it is still very, uncomfortably loud. You look at the stage at the back of the auditorium. For a moment, you see the same stage in your mind's eye - but with a large, impossibly black shadow rising above it.
Last night's stage.
Your hands feel cold again all of a sudden. You swallow. You stare into it, feeling your skin getting colder and colder, your heart slowing down, beads of sweat forming on your forehead.
And then you're snapped back to the present and escape it, as the voice bellows from the monitor.
"ANNNNNND NOW. THE MOMENT YOU'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR. PLEASE GIVE A LOUD, LOUD WELCOME... TOOOO.... THE COMEDIAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!"
The audience's cheers and screams grow louder, getting closer to being unbearable.
Something moves at the back of the stage, and the person you voted, on hands and knees, crawls on slowly, like a wounded animal.
The volume of the audience suddenly increases again. You flinch. It is now, once again, unbearably loud.
After a few moments, the person you voted for reaches the microphone. They grab the microphone stand and bend it down towards them as they kneel on stage.
The audience quietens down.
The room is silent.
"TELL US YOUR NAME, COMEDIAN."
They wince in pain as they speak.
"Stacey".
"AND WHAT IS YOUR JOKE FOR US TODAY, COMEDIAN?"
"Once upon a time there was a man named John McMillan who had nine toes and an axe to grind with his hairdresser Gally. It was a beautiful sunny day like it had never been before in the village of Montenui, surely not one John had ever experienced. Like any other day John still decided to sleep in untill it was 9'o clock. He did not need an alarm for he had a natural talent for waking up on time. Once the clock reached northwest John got up and went to take a shower. He put some protective plastic around his less than average right foot and grabbed a new bottle of shampoo. After showering John shaved his armpits and decided he was ready for work. His jeans looked sharp and his shirt was a nice sueve blue that you could find in a lot of 80's movies and also John's closet.
John got in his car and started the engine. The radio turned on simultaniously, tuned in to his usual station 'Country rock FM'. As John took off from his driveway the song 'Big Enough' was playing and he happily sang along. His car was a 1969' metallic blue Mustang that he inherited from his father after he died of a heart attack while salsa dancing with Johns mother in law at a state-wide competition. The rims of the car were a deep black and reflected the sun back onto the pavement as John rode over the highway. The trip towards his work was only twenty minutes and without any traffic issues John arrived at his work. Strange, John thought to himself, as the previous few days there had always been a chain collision caused by marijouhana enthousiasts. Maybe they did not ascend on fridays? Truth be told John felt like he was getting a little on the older side and that he could not keep up with the new crazes of the kids these days. This made his job as a highschool teacher all the more difficult. Miss Paige, the English teacher, swore that a kid last week (whom he knew had to be Brian) held 5 fidget spinners at once and pretended to be an attack helicoptor while simultaniously swinging his natural propellor. The kid did not get any suspension and Miss Paige soon took a leave of absense that will most likely be forever. Walking through the hallways John ran into his favorite student Claire.
"What up Mr McMillan, hows it hanging?" Claire said with a big smile.
John thought to himself that was quite an inappropriate question but he answered it anyways. "Same as usual I guess." John responded.
"So I was wondering, for my creative writing assignment, could I write a piece about Hitler and whether or not would join the Area 51 raid? Purely fictional ofcourse."
"You do you Claire, just make sure that Hitlers motivations are proper this time." John said while looking over Claires shoulder. Did he just see Brian give a kid a wedgy? Whatever.
"Thank you Mr McMillan you are the best teacher in all the kingdoms" Claire said while enticingly scribbling some ideas into her notebook.
They split apart and John went to his classroom. It was barely ten in the morning and he already wanted it to be weekend. John had something special planned for this weekend to finally get back at that damned hairdresser Gally who was involved with the losing of his most precious toe. The day went by rather smoothly and even Jackson refrained from sniffing glue that day. John got back in his car and decided to stop by a seven eleven for some hot coco.
"Welcome to this seven eleven how can I help you today good sir" the guy behind the counter said uninterrested and looking at seeminly risky pictures of what John swears is lasagna.
"I'll have one hot coco please."
"It's like a hundred degrees outside."
"Who are you, the freacking weather boy? Just make me my coco." John said getting visibly irritated that someone would question his beverage choices.
"One hot coco coming up, is that all?"
"Yes." John said and then he paid 5 dollars. He took a quick sip of the hot coco and immediately noticed that it was not hot.
"Excuse m-" John tried to say but he was interrupted before he could finish.
"Literally just take it outside man the sun will do the rest ever heard of going green." the counter clerk said.
"Yeah its what all the girls do when they see your face."
John went outside and much to his dismay the clerk was right and the coco warmed right up, though it did warm his mood. A bird had pooped on his windshield, for the third time in five years, and John practically lost it right there and then. He went back into the store, grabbed some cleanex and cleaned his windshield while grunting like he was following trampoline excercizes from daytime television. Johns mood suddenly went brighter as he realized what time it was. Aside from five'o clock it was payback time. And this time Gally would not get away with it by threatening his wife as Mandy was hit by a yellow car while in the ambulance with Johns father on the way to the hospital and died on impact. 'Nothing to lose' John kept mubmling to himself as he strapped on his leather seatbelt and drove straight towards the hairsalon.
There she was walking her son over the parking lot back into her shop. Did he mention that her son is Brian? Yes that Brian, the one that during mandatory swimming lessons wore a fursuit and told the faculty that cats do not like water. After beign forced to take it off Gally sued the school for discrimination and now once every year teachers have to wear fursuits to show their inclusiveness. God how John could just rip apar this Owl costume if he would not lose his job over it.
"THIS IS YOUR END GALLY" John shouted as he drove straight towards. Gally pushed Brian out of the way but it did not matter for John accidentally hit another pedestrian that happened to walk between them and John and came to a complete stop.
"OH MY GOD TIMOTHOM" John heard a familiar voice say. It was Miss Paige and she was in tears as her favorite boyfriend was all over the deep black rims. John felt terrible and felt like he had to apologize to Miss Paige. Instead he did not apologize and got out of his car. Gally may of won this round, but she did not account for Johns plan B. You see, John had accounted for the fact Gally may outsmart him and made a contingency plan. If she somehow survived, John would instead grab his guitar from the backseat of the car and visciously play the macarena to confuse Gally. Then when she is at her most distressed that is when the fat lady starts singing. John had it all planned out, no way Gally would know of this plan.
"Grabbing your Guitar are we now John?" Gally said with a smile on her face. "You didn't really think that this would work on me do ya?"
John looked visibly confused and a hint of sadness in his eyes and the deep red rims of his mustang. How did she know?
"Gotta hand it to you John, you surprised me by how easely I could figure out your plan. I know everything. Well, except for what that thing on the back of your car is. Such a strange shape, must be from some far away land like Pennsylvania" Gally said.
Aha, John thought, something Gally did not know. "Well well well Gally, guess I have stumped you yet again. I ac-"
"Is it even called stumping if you only have nine toes?" Gally said while laughing. Brian laughed too but not at the joke. He's been laughing for a couple minutes now.
"I swear Gally ..." John said. He felt like he had to try and take the high road so instead he went to educate her instead. "Want to know what that thing on the back of my car is?"
"Amuse me." Gally said intrugued.
"You see Gally, that is what we call a"
As the person finishes speaking, they let go of the microphone stand, and it falls to the stage floor. They look down, looking exhausted.
The room, as always, is dead silent.
For what feels long a long time.
Completely still.
Completely lifeless.
...
...
...
And then there's a little giggle.
And then there's another.
And another. And another. And another. And the whole auditorium is suddenly bursting with painfully loud laughter. Your ear drums ache. They laugh and laugh and scream and clap and squeal and it goes on and on and on and on. And it doesn't stop. They keep on laughing, and your ear drums keep on aching, as though something is continuously beating on them to bruise them. It hurts and it goes on and on and on and on and you need it to stop. You can't take much more of it.
And then, all of a sudden, you see two thick, wooden poles come out of the walls on either side of the stage, towards the person you voted for.
The audience roars with excitement.
As the poles near the person on stage, two tiny lines of metal with pincers on the end of them extend from the ends of each wooden pole, grab the person's arms, and pull them from each side.
The person you voted for's face flinches and they let out a quiet moan, turning to see the wooden poles and looking confused and frightened.
And then wooden poles begin to retract back into the walls, stretching the person's arms out from both sides.
The audience laughs louder and louder.
The person you voted for screams. And then screams again, louder. And then again, even louder. And then they don't stop screaming.
A chorus of laughter, cheering, screaming in joy and screaming in pain erupt from the room, getting louder and louder and louder and louder, engulfing the whole auditorium in a chorus of screams in horror and pain, and incessant, unwavering laughter.
The person you voted for's eyes are wide. Their neck twists violently from side to side.
"PLEASE. NO. STOP. PLEASE. PLEASE."
The audience's cheering and laughter and screaming claws at your eardrums. They overwhelm you. You can't do this. You can't do this anymore.
And then the person you voted for lets out a slow, blood-curdling scream of agony.
It shakes the building.
You feel something inside your heart snap.
And then you hear a large crack as the person you voted for's right arm is ripped from their torso. It looks almost pathetic from a distance, like a small insect's limb being pulled off. It sprays a thick fountain of dark blood across the stage and the wooden pole which still holds it in its grip.
The person you voted for is still screaming in agony. You wince and you feel sick. And they are dragged across the stage by the other wooden pole which still pulls their left arm. Screaming and shaking, staring at their arm across the stage, gallons of blood pumping out of where their arm once was and covering the stage in a river of dark red blood, eyes wide with terror, they suddenly fall silent and their head drops to their chest.
Their lifeless body is still being slowly dragged across the stage by the wooden pole, wiping a thick trail of blood across it.
The audience laugh and laugh and laugh and laugh. It gets louder and louder and louder and louder. It engulfs you in a huge ball of it.
It disorientates you.
It is painful.
You really, really can't do this anymore.
You fight the feeling of weakness that claws at you.
And you want to kill them.
You wan't to kill every last one of them.
You want to rip them apart and choke them and pound your fist into their faces and scream at them and kill them over and over and over and over.
But they just keep laughing and laughing and laughing and laughing and laughing and the stage keeps filling with blood and the body is still moving across it and you still feel so weak, so helpless. So angry.
And then you see it.
Something dark - a lot of dark somethings - are rising from where the torn body is on stage.
For a moment your heart tenses up with dread, fearful for seeing the shadow again, The Darkness. You can't bear to see it again.
But as you watch, you realise it is something different.
A dozen or so of small, black, thin, disk-like shapes are fluttering gently above the stage. They rise higher and higher, light as feathers, twirling and dipping and spinning with grace.
They rise and rise and they are... beautiful.
...Peaceful.
They are like dark, pretty butterflies.
The audience are suddenly quiet, no longer jumping up and down.
They collectively let out an aw of appreciation.
And after a moment, a quiet applause breaks out across the room.
Your heart feels lighter somehow. You feel... beauty. Safety. Tranquillity.
And then a burst of static cuts out the sound, and the monitor goes black.
You stand still in the Lobby.
You blink.
You are stunned and confused as to how you feel. Your mind switches back and forth between the bloody, torn corpse of the person you voted for, and the dark, angelic butterfly-like creatures that rose from their body afterwards.
The microphone suddenly switches on.
"Ahahahahahahaha... that... that was wonderful. That really was good timing. Perhaps this place has been blessed by some God of luck. Hahaha...
Yes. I'm pleased with that. The audience got a kick out of the performance, and then a sweet after-show of something they've appreciated before. I think that will be very helpful in getting the reviews back up. What marvellous timing.
Ah... yes. I should probably explain what you just witnessed.
Those... things, those disk-like creatures. Those... were spirits.
I suppose I should have no doubt about you believing me now, after all you've seen. So yes. They were spirits.
They, like The Darkness, reside in the Comedy Club. They serve The Darkness, in fact. Which may be a little confusing at first, because they look and move so... beautifully. It's just how they are. I've seen them before.
The Darkness' servants, when they are, er, enslaved, are sometimes left with certain... abilities. Powers that The Darkness sees fit for them. One of those powers in the past was the ability to communicate with those spirits and use their powers to aid The Darkness. And when that person was sent on stage, the same thing happened. It was beautiful. The audience loved it.
But... those spirits are not to be underestimated. They have quite the powerful spell at their disposal. Partial atomic reconfiguration is what a scientist I knew once called it. They can, to a certain extent, vanish material possessions into thin air. The only requirements are that those materials were found by their current owner recently, and that they don't have any significant emotional attachment to the owner.
I imagine that's how they were used here, too.
Oh, and they also tend to enjoy playing with corpses. They do... something to them. I'm not quite sure what. But - I believe - they are the ones responsible for the blackening of the cue cards and pamphlets that belong to the deceased, if you've ever noticed that. And I think it is also they who are responsible for the, er... unpleasant aura that the corpses leave behind. A convenient side effect of their power, from what I've read. They make the body seem unbearably disgusting to prevent anybody from interfering with it while they work to darken some of the possessions that they couldn't take away. So... there's some more information for you.
Anyway. I really am optimistic with how that performance went down. I think we're probably safe. So that's a relief.
The map is updated on the monitor, and the timer will begin shortly. Choose a place to spend the night. After seeing the spirits, you should hopefully enjoy a feeling of calm tonight. The effect they have on people is quite extraordinary."
The speaker sound leaves the room in silence, and then the monitor flickers to reveal the map, and then the one minute countdown.
--
Nottykitten was Stacey, Follower of the Darkness 2:
"The Darkness is a kind God. It has granted you talents, promised you everlasting tranquillity, and revealed to you the true nature of this world, the corruption that festers around you. Your peers are not in their right mind. They are brainwashed, and only you and the Darkness can free them. You offer your assistance. It whispers to you during the night. It kindly considers your requests. It will never harm you, for it never harms those it loves. The Darkness is a kind, loving God.
Furthermore, The Darkness has granted you access to strange powers that you barely understand. You have a feeling that certain parts of the building will be useful to you, but you aren’t quite sure how just yet.
Alignment: Mafia
Role: Follower of The Darkness 2
Abilities: ??? (Told they need to go to the Basement to use their powers upon seeing the monitor. Unlocked when spending the Night in the Basement: If spending the night in either the Basement, Bathroom or Upstairs Dressing Room, you can choose any player and prevent them from obtaining any new possessions that night and destroy any possessions they have found whilst being at the Club. This is the last thing to happen during the Night.)
List of Follower Abilities (shared actions that require consensus are marked with [Y]):
- Given information on The Darkness
- Able to enter Engulfed rooms at night [makes you vulnerable to the Darkness (but they cannot kill you, only try)]
- [Y] During the Night, prevent the Darkness' kill for that night and choose anybody to murder for yourself. One use per three day cycle. [Once on Nights 1, 2 OR 3, once on Nights 4, 5 OR 6, etc.]. Unlike the Darkness kill, this kill can be prevented [Darkness kill only fails to go through if it hits a Follower]. Cannot both do this and carry out another action
- [Y] During the Intermission, recommend to the Darkness one target each night to Kill, Paralyze (roleblock) and/or Empathise (inspect role), on preference levels of Strong, Moderate or Weak
- Able to communicate to fellow Follower at all times
- Unable to be killed by The Darkness [if tried results in no Darkness kill]
- Know each morning which rooms will be engulfed during the Intermission [you will be told which rooms will be engulfed Night 1 once all role PMs have been confirmed and The Darkness has made their choice]
- Receive investigation results that The Darkness receives
- One of you will become The Darkness if The Darkness dies [if all Followers are alive you may choose who when the time comes]
- Reveal the rest of the Mafia team to The Darkness upon your death
- Know the identity of The Darkness
Win condition: Have the Mafia compose of at least 50% of the alive players"
--
End of Day 3: The Snapping of Sanity
--
INTERMISSION
--
INTERMISSION
Infected_alien8_
Garry's Mod Admin
As usual, a few moments after you've arrived in the Lobby and coughed out any gas that was clinging to your lungs, the speaker sound echoes through the room.
"And, once again, welcome back. I trust you enjoyed a good sleep, with your spirits lifted after last night's performance.
But don't get too optimistic. You are stuck here. Whether you feel that way or not.
Use the energy you've regained for the stage, should you go on next. And one of you will. So be ready.
The reviews for last night's performance were indeed a vast improvement. We're safe once again. So pat yourselves on the back. Your choice of sending Stacey out there was perfect timing. I suppose I should stop doubting you by now. You haven't failed me yet.
Anyway. 'schwoopsie'.
That was their name. The one who was, sadly, taken from us last night.
They worked as a wildlife preservationist and tour-guide for a rather famous, well-preserved forest. They had a daughter.
There's still a threat out there. Picking you off, one by one. Nothing has changed about that. So the stage is still, and always will be, your only hope of elongating your life. Even by just a little.
So get to work. Make a decis-"
Static.
"Almost got it..."
More static.
"The performance awaits."
The microphone noise leaves the room in silence.
The monitor above the raised stage flickers to reveal today's map and timer:
countingdownto.com
[Deadline is 21/08 7pm BST]
--
Mooglie was schwoopsie, a Comedian:
"You don’t want to be, but you are.
You have no special talents, but you have a feeling you’ll be a useful asset during the Night, even if you aren’t quite sure how just yet.
Alignment: Town
Role: Comedian
Abilities: ??? (Unlocked after obtaining an item: Having nothing else to do during the night, you spend a little more time gathering items. [x2 Loot])
Win condition: Eliminate all threats to Town"
--
It takes 3 votes to send somebody out on stage, and 3 votes to refuse.
Playerlist
1.Alisha
2. Timdood3
3. Ltin
4.Stranger from Planet 9
5.Omni
6.Mooglie
7. hipmeow
8.Nottykitten
9.TheWeakGuy48_
10.HKCaper
11. webpaige
12. sessybessy
"And, once again, welcome back. I trust you enjoyed a good sleep, with your spirits lifted after last night's performance.
But don't get too optimistic. You are stuck here. Whether you feel that way or not.
Use the energy you've regained for the stage, should you go on next. And one of you will. So be ready.
The reviews for last night's performance were indeed a vast improvement. We're safe once again. So pat yourselves on the back. Your choice of sending Stacey out there was perfect timing. I suppose I should stop doubting you by now. You haven't failed me yet.
Anyway. 'schwoopsie'.
That was their name. The one who was, sadly, taken from us last night.
They worked as a wildlife preservationist and tour-guide for a rather famous, well-preserved forest. They had a daughter.
There's still a threat out there. Picking you off, one by one. Nothing has changed about that. So the stage is still, and always will be, your only hope of elongating your life. Even by just a little.
So get to work. Make a decis-"
Static.
"Almost got it..."
More static.
"The performance awaits."
The microphone noise leaves the room in silence.
The monitor above the raised stage flickers to reveal today's map and timer:
Create a Countdown Clock
[Deadline is 21/08 7pm BST]
--
Mooglie was schwoopsie, a Comedian:
"You don’t want to be, but you are.
You have no special talents, but you have a feeling you’ll be a useful asset during the Night, even if you aren’t quite sure how just yet.
Alignment: Town
Role: Comedian
Abilities: ??? (Unlocked after obtaining an item: Having nothing else to do during the night, you spend a little more time gathering items. [x2 Loot])
Win condition: Eliminate all threats to Town"
--
Day 4
It takes 3 votes to send somebody out on stage, and 3 votes to refuse.
Playerlist
1.
2. Timdood3
3. Ltin
4.
5.
6.
7. hipmeow
8.
9.
10.
11. webpaige
12. sessybessy
well im pretty sure our only options really are ltin or sessy, and sessy did join the bathroom with me and tim which is very suspect. i doubt theres maf comedian so time and paige are pretty safe in my eyes. i also got 2 batteries and i opened page 16 and i got the blue print for the soul machine thingy (why does a bathroom have batteries in it) BUT im leaning towards a sessy lynch tbh.
current shitlist is Ltin and Sessy obviously
Ltin because he didn't/doesn't have a role and he didn't vote for either scum at any point:
and sessy for not listening to moog:
I also got scrap metals last night
Ltin because he didn't/doesn't have a role and he didn't vote for either scum at any point:
and sessy for not listening to moog:
I would prefer to lynch Ltin vs Sessy because no role is scummier than a bizarre role but I'm okay with either
I also got scrap metals last night
Personally I think sessy is the suspicious engineer that hoards batteries that keeps coming up in the pamphlets, but I don't know if that's a 3rd party role or mafia (or nothing at all), after all that is the room you get batteries from
also regarding this
this seems like something third party related. the only other thing could be some sort of alt win condition for us maybe (maybe someone is trying to get us out and idk hacking into the system who knows)
To be completely honest and you can take this with a pinch of salt if you want I didn’t read moog’s plan and because I hadn’t been to the bathroom I wanted to see what happened in that room which not much did. I must’ve skimmed past moog’s plan idk I didn’t even know they had made one, I knew of a plan being made but didn’t know it was posted. In my opinion Ltin’s no role is scummier than my role claim but I know I’m equally as sus to you guys.
I read page 16 again (thanks random
Number generator :/) and got the same information about the role purifier.
I got two batteries from the bathroom (a bit strange)
I read page 16 again (thanks random
Number generator :/) and got the same information about the role purifier.
I got two batteries from the bathroom (a bit strange)
A pair as in two people. Would you like to claim your role?
I’m assuming to make you vulnerable so darkness will kill you ?
Idk maybe it’s a different ‘motive’