Long Game 74: You Want It Darker

[STINK he/him]

I'm hopping in the shower no-one do anything crazy in the last 20 mins of the night ok

Like a random vote or something idk 

[Quivil she/her]

What happens if a pewterarm is acted on by a coppercloud, then killed?

[Quintessential she/her]

Just now, Tani said:

What happens if a pewterarm is acted on by a coppercloud, then killed?

Well, copperclouds only affect Seekers, Soothers, and Rioters, so nothing. If a Thug was protected by a Lurcher and also killed, the Lurcher would block the kill and the Thug would still have two lives. I think. @Kasimir is that correct?

[Kasimir he/him]

9 minutes ago, Tani said:

What happens if a pewterarm is acted on by a coppercloud, then killed?

Quinn is correct. Copperclouds do not affect a Thug's passive life, so it would still take two kills to take down a Thug. There is no interaction on this level between Smoking and a Thug.

7 minutes ago, Quintessential said:

If a Thug was protected by a Lurcher and also killed, the Lurcher would block the kill and the Thug would still have two lives. I think. @Kasimir is that correct?

Yes.

Edited March 1, 2021 by Kasimir

[Mat he/him]

Philico leaned against the wall of an abandoned building, spinning a hordeling disguised as a red ball on his fingertip. He wore an elaborate cloak, colored in enough places not to be mistaken for a Mistcloak. It was simply the mark of a magician- or in this case, the mark of a creature who wanted to have some fun.

And fun he had. The magician stunt had been a rewarding one- Fallion's Tears simply ate up what he had to do. To them, he was a bit of relaxation from the murders they committed. Funny, how that happened.

As he happened to be spinning the hordeling ball on his finger, making the bottommost point of the ball interweave with the tip of his finger so as to ensure it could not fall off, a small child walked up to him. Fallion's Tears was no place for children. 

The kid was young, maybe five or six. He had greasy black hair that was plastered to his skull, and wore ripped clothing. He stopped a few feet away from where Philico leaned, and spoke in a soft voice. "I like your tricks, Mr. Phil."

Philico smiled. "Thank you, good sir!" It is my pleasure.

The child looked up, large brown eyes staring into Philico's. "How do you do them?" He asked, with genuine curiosity.

Philico pretended to pocket the ball, really just letting the hordelings sink back into his form. He walked over and knelt by the child, and put his hand on their back. "A magician never reveals his secrets- but you are smart, to ask. Sometimes magicians give hints."

Philico dropped a hordeling off his back as he spoke, and let it crawl underneath him. When it appeared in view, the child looked down, but didn't scream- the child had seen much worse than this in the past days. Instead, he looked at it in wonder. "What is it?"

Philico picked up the hordeling with both hands, and then in a fluid motion clapped them together. The hordeling wriggled back inside  but appeared to just vanish. The child giggled. "Now go," Philico said. "It's almost morning; you can come out again then. You shouldn't be out at night."

He glanced backwards at the rising sun, but Fallion's Tears was still clothed in shadow. A breeze blew past, and he shivered. "It's not safe out here, at night."

The child nodded solemnly and ran off, disappearing around a corner. Philico smiled as he went, glad that he could bring some form of joy to someone during this grim time.

[Quintessential she/her]

When Tesse Mourn arrived home, she realized immediately that something was wrong. The door hung ajar, and the entire inside of the house was a mess. In her study, the large safe hung open, but nothing had been taken. The smaller one, hidden beneath the floor, was still shut. The Eleventh Metal was safe inside it. 

[Kasimir he/him]

And yea, the Night grew longer and the mists faded and the first of the light began to touch the village.

And Wyrm Kas spake unto the villagers saying, yea, stoppeth thy posting and thy PMing, for 'tis rollover now and your GM needs to figure out who died and write them a suitably boring sendoff. And also if thou shalt still have PMs.

And the Spiked asked, "But are we not Spiked? Does this stricture apply to us too?"

But Wyrm Kas was wise from years of dealing with Wyrm and Aonar and Maili and he said unto them, "Damnit, you know what I mean."

And all activity did cease.

[Quivil she/her]

The alchemist was dead. The town had torn him to pieces. The poor ducks! They had nowhere to go! Daux needed to be in town, so he bid goodbye to his friends and left. Once in town he went to the Alchemist's house and let out all the ducks. Then he went hunting.

The Alchemist's ducks were delicious.

The Alchemist's ducks had been sheltered. They had not had much fear in their lives. They had, however, known the fears of the Alchemist.

 

Edit: I promise I started this before rollover

Edited March 1, 2021 by Tani

[Kasimir he/him]

Day Two: The Sound of Silence

“And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon god they made
And the sign flashed out its warning
In the words that it was forming
And the sign said, "The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls and tenement halls
And whispered in the sound of silence."

—’The Sound of Silence’, Simon & Garfunkel

Someone started the riot. And I didn’t like that one bit.

Crowds aren’t bad, not by nature. Some crowds are fairly benign. But when people are angry or scared, then well, there’s a dry grain silo, just waiting for a spark. Emotional Allomancy was that spark, and the whole village meeting thing that Wilson’d called? Blew right up in our faces.

Still, at least the Mayor was fine, just shaken. Figures. Riot’s an ugly thing. What’s even uglier is seeing the inner demon, the one that lurks inside all of us, come out to play. Thing is, in that village square, that demon, that fundamental ugliness in us all wore the face of neighbours, friends, the kind grocer, the wheelwright…

Guess there’s something shocking about realising people are only human, after all. That they’re just as selfish and screwed up as the rest of us. Not that I’m one to talk, really. It’s a good day if I can stand to look myself in the eye in the morning. I still have more good days than bad ones. Reckon if things were otherwise, I wouldn’t keep doing what I do. 

Of course, it’s easy to say Wilson should’ve done something, sooner. I dunno. Can’t Riot what isn’t there, after all. You get that a lot, in Tremredare. ‘Maybe the Watch should’ve put more boots on the ground.’ ‘Maybe the Watch should’ve patrolled the Warrens more.’ ‘Maybe the Watch should’ve launched the manhunt the moment she went missing.’ So many ‘maybe’s. You listen to them too much, and they’ll keep you up at night. 

And maybe we should’ve had El there, from the start. Smokers like her, they’re rare. Maybe one in ten of the Smokers you’ll ever meet can shut down Emotional Allomancy, just like that. Of course, we had no reason to expect Emotional Allomancy to be used at the village meeting. But it didn’t stop me from kicking myself, anyway. Maybe I felt like this shouldn’t have happened. Like I was smarter than this. And now Lasalen was dead and a whole bunch of people injured. 

Lit a fire in my belly, that. I was angry. The Misting, whoever it was, I figured probably a Rioter, given how all of Fallion’s Tears must’ve been feeling at that time was a firebug. And I’ve known firebugs, in my time in Tremredare. They start with something small, like someone’s trash. Or someone helpless, like a kitten. Then they work up to bigger things: a house. A block. Maybe it gives them a thrill, a sense of power. I don’t know. Something’s deeply wrong and deeply broken in some people, and far as I’m concerned, it’s up to people like me to stop them.

There was a case. A missing child, when I was a few months on the job in Tremredare. Noble, of course, but it doesn’t matter. Not when it’s a child. Thing is, the report was filed three days after she went missing, and any veteran who’s worked Watch before knows that every second counts. 

What happened, how we found her, it doesn’t bear repeating. There was silence in the precinct the day we found her. I remember staring at my cubicle walls, just staring. It wasn’t right at all. It was the sort of jarring wrongness, the sense that something is terribly, terribly fecked about a world where a child vanishes and turns up dead five days later. That, I dunno, things had come out of joint. And there was a terrible, aching sadness in me, that we couldn’t have found her. Couldn’t have saved her.

Back when the report first came in, I asked if we could. The sergeant looked and me and shook his head. “We’ll get the bastard who did it,” he said, and I heard the iron certainty in his voice. Later, he wanted to know how I was feeling. Empty, I said. “Don’t feel empty,” he snapped. “Feel angry. This is your precinct, your turf, and these bastards are hurting children on your ground.”

Never been one for anger. Makes you sloppy, I think. Makes you lose control. Over the years though, sometimes I’ve started to think he’s right. Anger, or maybe just damned stubbornness keeps you going, keeps you working the case, until you crack it.

And right now, I was very, very angry.

Thing is, if we didn’t find our firebug soon, well, I hated to think of the sort of drek a firebug like our Rioter could get up to, in Fallion’s Tears. But Rioters need their zinc, so I figured I’d go talk to the metallurgists in the village. Which meant two of them: one of them a little strange, probably overworked, and the other one was Tesse Mourn. Far as I know, there’s always been a Mourn in Fallion’s Tears, as long as anyone in the village remembers. Figured I’d go prod them about their customers. Always a sensitive topic, and maybe I didn’t have any right to demand answers. But maybe after the violence in the square, they’d open up to me, even a little. 

I owed it to Lasalen to at least try.

 

 

A profound, wounded silence had fallen over the village of Fallion’s Tears like a pall, with the onset of night. It was a hushed silence, punctuated by whispers. People moved about the village, gazing about them with the wariness of those who have seen a safe harbour wrested away from them.

The events in the village square earlier that day had shattered the illusion that Fallion’s Tears was a quiet, sleepy village: that nothing happened in Fallion’s Tears, ever. People who had known each other all their lives found themselves staring at each other with suspicion and distrust normally reserved for strangers.

Fallion’s Tears had been safe. Until that notion of safety had proven today to only have been the flimsiest of lies.

Down a side-street in Fallion’s Tears, two men stared at each other in a cluttered study. Files were stuffed haphazardly in a drawer, some of them ongoing cases that had been temporarily relegated to the drawer in light of the events of the past day.

Wyl stood up to get the whisky from the cabinet. Kast raised an eyebrow but didn’t even bother moving. El’d left some of the pain medication he was taking, but Wyl figured his game leg was still bothering him, especially after the day’s events.

“Thought you were saving that for something special,” he commented, lightly.

“Yeah, well, it’s been one of those days, hasn’t it?” Wyl replied. “A special shade of screwed up.”

Though that was putting it lightly, as far as he was concerned. 

“Bit of an understatement, don’t you think?”

“Fair enough,” Wyl replied, as Kast poured. It had been one of those days that felt far too long, by half, and all he really wanted was a stiff drink, before they had to have this conversation, before he had to see what he could make of the firebug, and maybe he could slot in having a poke into Lasalen’s affairs while he was at it. God, the things he needed to do never ended, and the shade of the departed Leas Fel still weighed heavily on him.

Were they going to bring the killers to justice? Wyl hoped so. They had to, if only to set things right again. It didn’t matter if Leas Fel had no surviving family; it was about the law, about making sure that justice was done, even if the ashen skies fell, and about what the living owed the dead.

About being able to look himself in the eye in the morning, when he performed his morning ablutions.

“Wilson sent out one of the hunters,” Wyl said. “He thinks he’s found tracks.” He waited until Kast had set down the glass before he said, meaningfully, “Too large to be human.”

“Feck,” Kast whispered. 

“Yeah, that’s about the shape of it. Wilson wants a militia. Think she’s going to get it, too, after what went down today.” After the enraged villagers had beaten Lasalen to death, and after El’s Smoking had cleared the air, or the firebug had gotten away, and after Wyl had managed to get a few of the volunteers to form a line to try to control the crowd. It’d been a closer shave than he’d have liked. Someone’d nearly brained him with a torn cobblestone.

“That doesn’t make sense, though. It’s not like koloss to watch and wait. But the tracks…” Kast frowned. “Laid?”

“Dunno,” Wyl shrugged, though he admitted that sounded more plausible than a wily band of koloss stationed near Fallion’s Tears, even though no one had seen sight or sound of them. “Reckon she’s going to get the hunters to take a closer look. If they can.”

“Lord Ruler,” Kast muttered. “Not our problem at least.”

“It isn’t, yeah. You know what our problem is, though.”

It was, in fact, sitting on the cleared-out desk between them, cleaned of crusted blood and glinting in the lamp-light. The brutally simple yet lethal shape of the spike rested on top of the cotton bag that Kast had carried it in.

Not for the first time, Wyl considered it a strange weapon to kill with. There was no hilt, nothing to stop the killer’s grip from slipping. And killing with a wound to the chest wasn’t easy—all those ribs in the way. There were better places to place a killing blow. No, the killing of Bart had been deliberate, and almost ritualistic.

Exactly like those disappearances in Tremredare all those years ago.

“Yeah,” said Kast. “I do.”

Wyl waited. Sometimes, the best thing you could do was to nourish the silence, to let the suspect talk, and fill it up. Sometimes, you learned more by listening, rather than by talking.

Kast, though, was content to sit there and nurse his whisky. 

Wyl had almost thought to start prodding him a little harder when Kast said, “You never really saw how bad it was. God, it was a slaughterhouse.” He stared at his whisky as though it held the secrets to the universe, or some kind of insight into human iniquity. “Good men and women. Maybe you wouldn’t think of them as good, not you, but...People I’d known and worked with all my life. All of them dead. Slaughtered. Torn apart. There was blood on the walls. On the floor. Everywhere.”

He spoke faster now, as though trying to purge himself of the memories, in short, staccato bursts. “You saw the aftermath. When one of them got away. What you didn’t see... Whatever that was.” He smiled hollowly. “Guess I should start from the beginning. What do you know of Hemalurgy?”

“Insert spike, things happen,” Wyl said. He remembered the murders at the Soothing station only too well. The way the perp had fought. If it wasn’t for the fact Kast had known a good Smoker...

“Guess that’s a start,” Kast shrugged. He held on tightly to his whisky glass, though he wasn’t drinking. “They were...we were experimenting with it. Hemalurgy. There’s...I don’t understand most of it.” He shifted the glass to his left hand and rapped on the spike with his knuckles. “This is bronze. Had it checked. It was meant to steal Bart’s powers. I don’t think they succeeded, though.” 

“Why not?”

“If they had, wouldn’t they have taken the spike with them?” Kast pointed out.

“Maybe they were interrupted.”

“By whom?”

Wyl shrugged, a tad irritated. He certainly didn’t know, either.

“Hemalurgy is...messy and fiddly. Spike has to be of the right metal. Has to go in the right place. Has to target the right person. Allomancer, or Feruchemist. Spike left outside a person for this long, it’d have degraded. By now, it’s just a bloody stupid way of trying to kill someone,” Kast said. He turned back to his whisky and drank deep.

“So you’re saying someone is going around Fallion’s Tears, maybe trying to whack people for their metals?”

It was Kast’s turn to shrug. “Feck knows. Leas Fel was no Misting. But if there’s anyone spiked on the loose...You can’t trust anyone at all pierced by metal. And the more spikes they get, the stronger they become. And then—” his expression turned grim again. “That day in the safehouse. Waes was experimenting, and...I’d never seen so much blood in my whole life.”

“Right,” Wyl said, trying to head off the morbid thoughts before they came. “So what can we do to stop them? What does this give us?”

“Spikes have to come from somewhere,” Kast said. “Not everyone has the know-how to use them. But then, what’s the connection to Leas Fel’s death?”

Too many unanswered questions, and Wyl didn’t like that at all. They were juggling a number of unknowns here: the firebug, Leas Fel’s death, and the peculiar way in which Bart had died. They’d never found the weapon that’d killed Leas Fel, but Wyl and Kast had both figured it for an ordinary stabbing. Now, Wyl had wondered if it was another attempted kill with a spike, but Kast had shot that down with the statement that Leas Fel had been no Misting.

He shrugged again. “Tomorrow’s problem,” Wyl said, curtly. “It’s late. Get rest. Don’t stay up here too long.”

“And you?”

“Going home,” Wyl said, raising an eyebrow. “Obviously. I value my sleep, at least.”

“Sleep is for the dead,” Kast muttered.

“Hey. You gonna be okay?”

“I’ve drank enough to take the edge off, and El left the medication. I’ll be fine,” Kast replied. “Besides, it’s only pain. I’ve had worse.”

“Been one hell of a day, huh.”

“Sure has.”

 

 

As Wyl made his way home, he worried at his thoughts again and again. Instinct told him that the murders and the riot were likely connected, especially in a place as quiet as Fallion’s Tears; the issue was trying to work out what the connections really were.

The mists were out tonight, though they seemed strangely thin and insubstantial. He marked that down as another oddity of the day.

He had to talk to the metallurgists, at the very least. The spiked they’d fought in the Soother’s station that day had been subdued by an entire squad of Watch. It’d been years since, and Wyl wasn’t getting any younger. 

No, he thought. He was getting sloppy. Complacent. He was losing his edge, those sharply-honed instincts that had kept him alive for so long on the streets of Tremredare.

Wilson. He thought again about that flash of—that furtiveness. She’d said Leas Fel had come around for genealogical research a couple times. Wyl didn’t doubt that, but this made her one of the clearest connections to Leas Fel in the village, which meant he needed to do more digging as well. The hardest thing about being an investigator was handling all those irons on the fire, deciding which had to be taken off, and which needed more heating.

There was a scream.

Without further thought, Wyl pelted off into the mists, down the streets of Fallion’s Tears. He gauged the direction of the cry and kept on going.

Not another one, he thought, and felt the anger burn deep within him. Not in his village. Not on his watch.

He skidded around the corner just as a flurry of coins ripped through a youth and kept on going. Reflexively, Wyl burned iron. A tracery of blue lines came to life around him, and he tugged on the bloodied coins and kept them going, flinging them on the cobblestones past him. A splinter of stone drew a line of pain against his calf, but he ignored it.

He glanced around. To pursue, or not to?

The youth—Niru, Wyl remembered, his name was Niru—collapsed on the pavingstones, blood gushing out from his wounds. Wyl assessed them, but he wasn’t one for medicine and all he could figure was that they looked pretty damned bad.

“Who was it?” he asked, urgently. “Did you see him? Where did he come from?”

“Ash,” Niru breathed, blood bubbling from his mouth. He gave a quiet, gurgling chuckle. “The ash, look at it…” He pointed, though. Down a side-street due east.

Wyl made a snap judgement, one he thought he might have to live with for the rest of his life.

He left, pelting after Niru’s assailant.

Whoever it was, Wyl wasn’t about to have a rogue Coinshot murdering people. Not in Tremredare. Not in Fallion’s Tears. Not on his watch.

Not when he could stop them. Not if he could help it.

“Niru, ruin,” Niru whispered.

No one was left to hear him.

 

 

Elsewhere in Fallion’s Tears, a random bystander was staring at the writing scrawled on the outside of the walls of The Steel Crow when someone grabbed her from behind and tried to stab her.

She slipped through their hold—a simple one, she’d picked up the trick of it on Roshar—and ran for it.

She’d quite enough with Scadrial and this town, Jalisa decided. Getting murdered when all she wanted to do was entertain and play music put a damper on things. Perhaps it was time to try a different world, and a different audience.

She was never seen again.

 

 

Ventyl has been killed! He was a Village Smoker!

Random Bystander has been killed! She was a Regular Villager!

The Day has begun and will end on 3rd March 2021, at 2300hrs SGT (GMT+8). PMs remain open.

The Writing on the Walls:

Spoiler

Welcome

Welcome!          GO AWAY             Welcome...                   Yes yes hello

Hi                     Hello!        NO NO NO                Friends? Yes.

No.

No?                       They said no??           Why? Who? They are listening...

Where.

Shhh, they are watching!

Ah! They hear us!

Hear? How!        HIM          Who?

Them.

 

 

 

 

Hello.

It's good to meet you. 

Tell Ruin we said hello.

   

and

Spoiler

Fire and blood,

Tan and red,

What do we do

if we all are dead?

8294727197382

 

Edited March 1, 2021 by Kasimir

[Kasimir he/him]

Player List:

Spoiler

1. @Matrim's Dice as Philico, the Magician Extraordinaire! - Come one, come all!
2. Random Bystander as the village's random bystander and musician, a Regular Villager
3. @Gears as Roko the Basilisk, the gambling menace - Building a house of cards
4. @Quintessential as Tesse Mourn, resident metallurgist - Mixologist but metal
5. @Fifth Scholar as Iste Confessor, village scholar - I confess I'm interested in this one
6. @Shard of Reading as Joe, gambling duck wrangler who drinks - I'd be driven to drink too if I had to wrangle ducks 
7. @Araris Valerian as Arenta, grumpy landlady - or the unholy conglomeration of AG Araris and Ren, tremble with fear ye tenants!
8. @Dannex as Dr. Aliker - A doctor, just probably not the one you're looking for
9. @Elandera as a confused and overworked metallurgist - Whose order is it anyway?
10. @Ashbringer as Derrick, general madman and secret kandra - Twice the pride, double the fall!
11. @TJ Shade as Fleur Tieste, hopeless romantic and god of cheesy one-liners - Are you a Lurcher? 'Cause I think I'm pulled towards you.
12. @Illwei - definitely not an Elantrian
13. @Devotary of Spontaneity as Sonnah Cojic, alchemist - But probably not full metal
14. @Experience Animation as Shard, the crazy 'kid' in town - Here's lookin' at you, kid.
15. @Mailliw73 as Marll, a gambling cobbler who heard of Tyrian Falls - Beware beetles!
16. @StrikerEZ as Variel, a fastidious storyteller - Who will tell the story of your life?
17. @The Unknown Order as Obliteration, a Shard inhabiting one of his followers - Guess you could use somebody
18. @The Windrunner Supreme as Merritt Cavallo - Pending
19. Ventyl as Niru, a watcher of ashes, a Village Smoker
20. Flyingbooks as Lasalen, a Regular Villager
21. @Burnt Spaghetti as Roseanna Ghetti, an insomniac artist - But what is there to art in this village but an infinity of ducks?
22. @STINK as Smirkai - Smirkai, now that's a name I haven't heard in a very long time...
23. @_Stick_ as Sunny, the intrepid baking worldhopping dolphin - So long and thanks for all the fish!
24. @Biplet as Sara, the local tavern-keeper - Toss a coin to your keeper, o' valley of plenty!
25. @Daisy as Hadra the storyteller - We are the stories we live! The tales we tell ourselves!
26. @The Young Pyromancer as Pie Roayong, foreigner kid out for blood - His name is Pie Roayong. You killed his father. Prepare to die.
27. @Young Bard as Thiriel, social climber - Chaos is a ladder.
28. @Tani as Daux, duck poacher - The socially-accepted term is 'wrangler'.

Rule Clarifications:

Spoiler

• Each Tineye message will occupy a separate spoiler box. No guarantees if they are from Tineyes or Mistborn with Tin.
   
• Coinshot kills and Spiked kills will be clearly differentiated in the write-up. Coinshot kills will always involve coins.
   
• Are Thug survivals and Lurcher protections distinguished in the write-up?

We have actually not had a consistent policy on this that I can see across the Tyrian AGs, so I am going to rule that I will not distinguish them for you - you will get the lynched and survived note, or the attacked and survived note, depending on whether it's Day or Night. (Obviously if it's during the Day, it can't be a Lurch, but I won't clear up if the player is definitely a Thug or a Mistborn who drew Pewter.)

• Do Lurchers protect from all attacks at night?

Lurchers only protect from one attack. If a Coinshot (I can neither confirm nor deny that there exists a Coinshot in this game) happens to target the same player as a second Coinshot, then Lurching will save the player from Coinshot #1 but not Coinshot #2. (I can also neither confirm nor deny there exists a Lurcher in this game.)

 

Edited March 2, 2021 by Kasimir

[Ashbringer he/him]

7 minutes ago, Kasimir said:

“Who was it?” he asked, urgently. “Did you see him? Where did he come from?”

“Ash,” Niru breathed, blood bubbling from his mouth.

... Derrick pleads the Fifth.

[Mat he/him]

Well, by the time I noticed a typo in my RP from last cycle, the thread had been locked .-.

Ventyl was village, so that spares us an IKYK :P. I'm going to guess that was the elim kill, making Randby a Coinshot one. Randby's death tells us nothing about anyone else, which is why I was hesitant to want extra kills -_-.

But that's fine, we know there's a Coinshot out there somewhere. (Hello!)

Still most suspicious of Striker.

[---]

8 minutes ago, Kasimir said:

Stuff

nice.

I guess Smirkai's name was just the beginning of the puzzles huh agh

[Kasimir he/him]

4 minutes ago, Matrim's Dice said:

Ventyl was village, so that spares us an IKYK :P. I'm going to guess that was the elim kill, making Randby a Coinshot one. Randby's death tells us nothing about anyone else, which is why I was hesitant to want extra kills -_-.

As per the rules, Coinshot and Spiked kills will be the one thing that's clearly differentiated for you in write-ups. That is to say, Coinshot kills will involve coins, and Spiked kills will test the limits of my creativity >> If there is a Spiked Coinshot, then the way the kill is depicted will depend on if they are using their Coinshot kill or the Spiked kill.

Everything else in the write-ups will otherwise be about as fictional as Wyrm's claims to sociopathy.

Edited March 1, 2021 by Kasimir

[---]

hm.

3 minutes ago, Matrim's Dice said:

I'm going to guess that was the elim kill, making Randby a Coinshot one

18 minutes ago, Kasimir said:

Whoever it was, Wyl wasn’t about to have a rogue Coinshot murdering people. Not in Tremredare. Not in Fallion’s Tears. Not on his watch

Coinshot isn't very nice killing ventyl that was kinda unnecesary

*glares pointedly in your direction* . not nice. smh.

Edited March 1, 2021 by Illwei

[Quintessential she/her]

Just now, Illwei said:

*glares pointedly in your direction* . not nice. smh.

I thought you were the Coinshot 

[Mat he/him]

...Scratch that, I should read the writeups more closely  

Yeah I woulda preferred a different kill :P. We had agreed Ventyl was likely village I thought.

[Quintessential she/her]

3 minutes ago, Matrim's Dice said:

...Scratch that, I should read the writeups more closely  

Yeah I woulda preferred a different kill :P. We had agreed Ventyl was likely village I thought.

The thing about Coinshots is that it doesn't matter what the rest of us think if they disagree with us : P

[Ashbringer he/him]

So the Elims just killed RandBy for low info... interesting.

I also missed that those were distinguished...

[---]

Just now, Quintessential said:

I thought you were the Coinshot 

 

nahhhh, idk who did I vote on last cycle.  I'd have killed one of them, right? :P.

Just now, Matrim's Dice said:

...Scratch that, I should read the writeups more closely  

Mat you just exposed yourself as not reading the writeups how does that make you feel *hold out mic*

[Kasimir he/him]

1 minute ago, Illwei said:

Mat you just exposed yourself as not reading the writeups how does that make you feel *hold out mic*

Why aren't you asking me how that makes me feel?  

To be clear, there are two different Tineye messages in the write-up. I can neither confirm nor deny if they came from two Tineyes, one Tineye one Mistborn, or two Mistborn. But two there are, no more, no less  

Edited March 1, 2021 by Kasimir

[Shard of Reading he/him]

Joe huddled in a corner. He didn't see any reason to go on. When the allomancer had died he had done some private investigations by himself. After the alchemist died, he had remembered. He had given his ducks to him. But they hadn't been there. Someone had gotten to his ducks first. Suddenly feeling like he would never find his ducks, Joe had run away to hide. When he fianlly walked back, he saw that the criminal had returned to the scene of the crime, and there were chicken bones... no, duck bones on the floor. Joe stood there in shock.

Wow, Tani. What did you do to my ducks? 

Okay, I'm back now. 

[Mat he/him]

3 minutes ago, Illwei said:

Mat you just exposed yourself as not reading the writeups how does that make you feel *hold out mic*

 

1 minute ago, Kasimir said:

Why aren't you asking me how that makes me feel?  

I read them, sometimes just not as soon as they're posted. Like now, I'm doing multiple things at once so I skimmed it and moved on, but I'll read it in depth later- I promise!  Kas' writing really is excellent. 

The Tineye messages are cool. I actually am kinda thinking the first one comes from an elim, but I don't know what makes me say that. maybe the last line?

[Biplet she/her]

3 minutes ago, Ashbringer said:

I also missed that those were distinguished..

Same here lol. Originally sorta agreed with Mat's point of switching 'em bc I thought it'd be funny if Kas pulled a fast one and lied about how they died. Didn't catch that in the rules XD

9 minutes ago, Matrim's Dice said:

We had agreed Ventyl was likely village I thought.

All I remember about Ventyl is ppl going "oh yeah he might be village, but he could also be doing [complicated reverse psychology trick]." XD 

No idea what to think about this. Will probably have more thoughts when I'm not typing in the middle of class oop- 

[---]

1 minute ago, Quintessential said:

The thing about Coinshots is that it doesn't matter what the rest of us think if they disagree with us : P

I think the coinshot should definitely be listening to what the village has to say, because 1) more minds are better than one and 2) they're not an SK role

not saying you gotta poll people bc it's your choice who to kill but like thinking about what other people are thinking is nice too

I'm a hypocrite so yall can honestly disregard all of that lmao

Just now, Kasimir said:

Why aren't you asking me how that makes me feel?  

I was gonna get to you next after I tried to guilt mat a lil bit /s