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Post by Robyn on Jul 17, 2011 1:16:25 GMT -5
Robyn hadn't heard this much noise since she died. Familiar voices were garbled amongst the sounds of clinking glassware, clacking footsteps, and grating, ear-splitting music. It was great. Terrible atmosphere or not, she'd had always loved dances. The dresses, the fancy fluff food, the dimmed lights-- with all that, along with her winning conversational skills and impressive moves out on the floor, she'd always been the life of the party. It was a bit sad that she was still stuck in the typewriter; she probably could've been the death of this party! ...Robyn decided that wasn't the best way she could've phrased that. Afterlife of the party? Ooh, that sounded much better.
She was grinning on the inside as she typed her thoughts out to Icon.
Hahahaha, I can't believe you brought me to this thing! I mean, don't get me wrong. Dances are awesome and just completely the best. But don't you think you'll look a bit silly if you try and cut a rug while holding a ginormous typewriter?[/b][/color]
Icon's lips were thin as typed back.
Trust me, I don't think I'll be dancing anytime soon. I've got articles to work on, and I might even be able to squeeze an interview in with someone if I'm lucky enough. Maybe the mayor, if he's here.[/b][/i][/color]
He scanned the room, seeking out the mayor in the sea of faces, not quite paying attention to Robyn's response.
I hope you don't mean an interview regarding the killings.[/b][/color]
Icon looked down to read her message. He frowned, adjusted his tie, and replied.
It could be about anything.[/b][/i][/color]
Robyn could've kicked something.
Seriously, Icon? I have told you TIME and TIME again how bad of an idea that is. And this is a dance, for Pete's sake. The whole point of this was so that people could get their minds off of all the horrible stuff that's been happening in this town. Can't you just relax a little?[/b][/color]
Icon spotted the mayor enjoying some punch under a cluster of balloons in the corner of the room and wondered if now would be an opportune time to go speak with him. He checked back down to Robyn's message and rolled his eyes.
Robyn, you were the one who wanted to find out what was behind all of this in the first place. I don't understand why you're suddenly so against it. You're not making a lot of sense right now, and to be honest, it's pretty frustrating to have to keep arguing with you when I could be figuring out what's going on.[/b][/i][/color]
His words stung. She was very slow in typing out her next passage.
I just don't want you to get hurt.[/b][/color]
Icon could see the mayor begin to disappear into the thick of the crowd. He let out a short breath of frustration before pounding at the keys, desperate to wrap up the conversation before his target got away.
Look, this isn't about me. It was never about me. There are other lives at stake here besides my own, if you haven't noticed, and I'd actually like to see if I can do something to help protect them as well. To just sit back and do nothing would be against the reporter's code, not to mention just plain selfish and cowardly. I'm going to go see if I can talk to the mayor, and I don't want to hear anything more about it.[/b][/i][/color]
Robyn felt how sharply he struck the enter key as he ended their exchange, and it was almost painful. Icon set the typewriter down on the table close by the punch bowl and walked away in search of the mayor.
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Post by Ginz ❤ on Jul 17, 2011 1:27:36 GMT -5
Madame Ginz wasn't one for dances. It wasn't that she actively disliked them, or anything of the sort, but she hadn't have the chance to go to many.
She showed up in her usual clothes, partly because she didn't know what people were supposed to wear for dances, and partly because even if she did, she didn't have other clothes. Her attire consisted on a long skirt, a long sleeved blouse and one of her usual sequin shawls.
Once there, Ginz felt a bit like a fish out of water. Music was playing, there was punch and snacks, and people seemed to be enjoying themselves... but her mind was elsewhere. She had promissed Miss Celes Teal that she would keep making her predictions on who would die next by the hands of the mafia. She had a feeling the next tragedy would happen soon, but ever since she had talked to the ghost girl, she hadn't gotten any visions or omens. She had to keep her eyes open.
She looked around to see if she recognized any of the other townspeople who had arrived at the dance.
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Post by Deleted on Jul 17, 2011 7:47:07 GMT -5
Ari wished she could have changed into another outfit that wasn't black, but nevertheless she held on to Meowington, being very careful not to pass through him. Which was hard, she admitted, but nothing had stopped their love so far.
Her cat was lounging idly on a comfy armchair. Ari noticed Mimi try to get Ginz's attention once or twice by meowing and batting a paw at her (in a friendly way). She decided to let cats be cats for now and...dance.
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Post by Lizzie on Jul 17, 2011 10:24:53 GMT -5
Candy had seen the dance banner almost immediately.
"Oooh, a dance?" she said excitedly, and ran off to get changed.
-
Candy walked up, wearing a dress (GASP!) and her hair down (DOUBLE GASP!) which she only did when she was forced to. She wasn't a very good dancer, as shown by the fact that she stayed at the edge of the ballroom floor and watched everyone else have fun every time there was a dance, so she just kinda... sat against the wall, peoplewatching.
"Everyone's having fun without me," she whispered, "and what am I doing about it? Nothing, that's what."
Candy sighed and twirled a lock of her hair around her finger. If someone wanted to talk to or dance with her, they'd have to come over and get her back to the dance floor.
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Post by Avery on Jul 17, 2011 15:28:39 GMT -5
The Narrator is rather excited when she spots Candy in the civic center, pressed in a corner. Selling pies or no, Candy is just about the only person in town she has any sort of relationship with, and that means someone to talk without feeling incredibly awkward. After adding a line to her pie price chart-- Thieves Will Be Hanged-- she leaves the table and walks over to her apprentice.
"Candy!" she says cheerily, waving. "I'm so glad to see you here. Stuck in a hot room with all these townsfolk-- urgh! I can hardly breathe."
She glances around the room, at the drunk citizens dancing and chatting, all seemingly rather uncomfortable with the situation. Boy, thinks the Narrator, a junior high school style dance probably wasn't the best way to bond the town. Especially because the mayor, Porpington, is nowhere to be seen. What a class act-- force the citizens of your town into a dance, then forget to show up?
She just hopes he isn't dead. Now that would be the icing on the cake.
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Post by Terra on Jul 17, 2011 16:11:19 GMT -5
"Oh, hi Terra. It's pretty good, but it has alcohol in it, from what I'm tasting."
"Oh," said Terra. She decided to stay away from it. First of all, she was still underage, but secondly, it didn't seem like a good idea to get drunk when there were murderers lurking around every corner.
"I like your dress, you look pretty." Luna smiled.
Terra blinked, surprised. "Oh. Um. Thanks." She smiled slightly.
Then Luna got up to buy a pie from Nelly.
Icon set down his typewriter by the punch bowl.
"Hey, Icon," said Terra, but he was already walking away.
She looked down at his typewriter. There was still a piece of paper inside. As her eyes skimmed the surface, she spotted Robyn's name and found herself reading it before she realized what she was doing.
Immediately, she tore her eyes away, ashamed of herself. What right did she have to read someone else's papers?
She couldn't help thinking about what she'd read, though...it was weird. It almost sounded like Icon was having a conversation with Robyn...or something. Was he delusional? Had he gone a little crazy after losing Robyn? Or...was he somehow managing to communicate with her from beyond the dead?
She was suddenly tempted to try to see for herself. To type in the typewriter and see if there was a response. But...what on earth would Icon think? Not to mention that it was a ridiculous thought. People couldn't come back from the dead...could they?
She looked around. Icon wasn't anywhere that she could see him. The crowd was so dense that she could hardly see anything through it.
Her heart was beating as her fingers hovered over the typewriter. What was she going to do?
She tore out the paper and rushed into the crowd to look for Icon. Whatever this paper was, she was sure that he wouldn't want anyone else to see it. She spotted him and called out, "Hey, Icon! Come here. I have something of yours."
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Post by Lizica on Jul 17, 2011 16:21:05 GMT -5
Miss Esther Rickshaw made her way down from her apartment above the library and began unlocking the series of locks on the library's front door.
When she'd first gotten wind of the vandalisms, she had changed all the locks in the library.
When the snatch-and-grabs had started, she had purchased padlocks for every door and window.
When the mugging started, she had added five different chain locks to the front and back doors.
By the time one of her library patrons, the documentarian, had been murdered, Ms. Rickshaw had boarded up all the windows and had considered commissioning Luna to make an iron barricade for the door. But that would have required social interaction, and right now she didn't want to be associated with anyone. She had seen the hangings from her attic window with the help of some old opera glasses, and to say that she was glad to be locked up in her library would be an understatement.
In fact, the only reason she had left her secluded apartment tonight was because she was clean out of food (except for some yeast packets and half a bottle of Worcestershire sauce). On her way to the grocery store, she saw there was a new bakeshop near the old deli, and for the briefest second, she thought about trying it out--before she remembered to avoid all human contact.
Ms. Rickshaw knew the library had a lot of information. She was even half-sure that there were books full of Netwaffle history and books full of ancient architectural plans, often with secret passages interwoven throughout the town. Not that she had actually read them. She knew that if the Mafia thought that she knew what she might know about the secret ins and outs of Netwaffle, she would surely be their next victim. And if the Mafia already knew about those passages, she knew she didn't want to know about them if the Mafia knew that she might know.
....In any case, she was now at the grocery's doors. But it was dark inside, and Ms. Rickshaw was horrified to see a note taped to the window: "Will be back after mandatory town dance."
A dance? A dance? A mandatory dance? NOW? Why, it would be crawling with people! Murderers and mafia everywhere!
Well, Ms. Rickshaw pondered, thinking that her half bottle of Worcestershire sauce didn't sound so bad, I'm sure no one will notice if I'm absent. No one has noticed I closed down the library.
((Hi, random forumer here who's not involved with the actual Mafia game but has been reading the RPG ever since she discovered it a few days ago. She was so intrigued she couldn't resist posting as a paranoid librarian. X3))
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Post by Avery on Jul 17, 2011 21:24:11 GMT -5
Nobody was having much fun at the mandatory town dance even before the body showed up in the men's bathroom, slumped over a still-running sink, throat slit clear across.
He was found by no other than the town mayor himself, and the moment Porpington stumbled upon the fresh, bleeding corpse, the man nearly died himself-- of a heart attack, mind you.
Spluttering, screeching, he tore out of the bathroom and into the ballroom, cutting through the dancing couples, nearly tipping over the punch bowl.
"M-m-murder!" he squealed, sounding like a little piglet whining for its mother. "Quintrell Nimbas has been murdered in the men's lavatory!"
Some of the dance attendees screamed. One fainted. A few others marched straight to the death scene as if to confirm the kill, then returned a few moments with grim looks on their faces.
"It's true," murmured one. "Quintrell Nimbas is dead."
Once it was proven that the weatherman had been killed, pandemonium broke loose. Most of the dance-goers ran towards the door, trying to flee, convinced the mafia was in their midst. However, before anyone could shove out into the night, Porpington flung himself in their paths and inserted a shiny brass key into the lock. Trapping them inside.
"Everyone will stay here!" he shouted. He was trying to come across as authoritative but his voice was wavering. "Clearly the murderer has not had time to get away! So everyone must stay as we seek the suspect!"
No one was very happy at this decree. Several cursed at Porpington; a few others grabbed at his key, but in a moment of panic, Porpington swallowed it down. Then came attempts to knock down the door itself, but it was solid steel. Some modernist design. There was no putting a dent into it, let alone getting it down.
So now the entirety of Netwaffle was locked in the ballroom-- shortly before the murder, Porpington had personally rounded up all those who had tried to skip out, including the town librarian and many of the ghosts-- and the murderers were there, too.
Great. This going to be great.
Quintrell Nimbas was a townsperson.
Setting: Locked in the Civic Center ballroom
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Post by Nova on Jul 17, 2011 21:40:28 GMT -5
Meowington was happily dancing with Ariana when Porpington rudely crashed into them before knocking over the punch bowl and screaming inane shouts of murder. There couldn't possibly be another murder, not in a setting where the entire town was forced to attend and.. oh, well actually that would include the mafia too...
...okay maybe - just maybe - it's possible that another murder took place... but highly unlikely since there were many innocent townspeople that could have noticed the killing. Especially with crazy Porpington declaring it. He just likes drama and practical jokes.
It wasn't until another person murmured "It's true, Quintrell Nimbas is dead." that Meowington actually realized that weatherman, who was horrible at predicting weather, was actually killed.
So. The mafia was in this building. And everybody was locked in.
Things were about to get horrible.
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Post by Deleted on Jul 17, 2011 21:47:49 GMT -5
"LET HIM GO!"
Ari screamed out loud at Porpington.
"I know it wasn't Meowington. He was dancing with me the whole time. And you've also locked my cat in here. So let both of them out, please. You can trust me, the mafia already killed me, so what I'm saying is true. And no one in their right mind would suspect a kitten of murder!" She gestured at Mimi, who was still on the chair, but playing with a plastic spoon.
"And let all the ghosts out too. Even Mr. Amati can't hurt any living person now."
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Post by Avery on Jul 17, 2011 21:51:04 GMT -5
((Sae, for the sake of keeping this interesting, let's assume that somehow these walls are magic and impenetrable, even by ghosts. =D))
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Post by Deleted on Jul 17, 2011 21:57:22 GMT -5
((Okay. Can do.))
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Post by Terra on Jul 17, 2011 22:05:15 GMT -5
Suddenly, Terra was pushed aside by the mayor himself.
"M-m-murder! Quintrell Nimbas has been murdered in the men's lavatory!"
Oh, no.
Not another murder. As if everyone needed something else to make their evening even worse.
Everything happened so quickly from that point onward that Terra could barely remember it later. All she knew was that someone had gone to check and confirmed it, and then everything was chaos and she, along with several others, tried to escape, but then that stupid mayor locked the door before anyone could get out.
Nobody had ever hated a local politician more than Terra hated her mayor right then.
Well, that's possibly an exaggeration. But you get the point.
What on Earth was he thinking, trapping everyone in the ballroom like that? Trapping them with the Mafia? It would surely only make all the innocent townspeople easier to kill, wouldn't it? If one of them had a gun, they could shoot down everyone else in the room, easily.
She needed to think. And to do that, she needed to have some kind of barrier between herself and the chaos.
She dived under the punch table.
The paper from Icon's typewriter was still clenched in her hand, now a bit crumpled from her grip. She reread it and started wondering...if Robyn really was somehow communicating with Icon...maybe she knew something. Maybe she'd be able to help them identify the killer.
The thought of Robyn somehow communicating from beyond the grave wasn't any less absurd than it had been earlier, but she was desperate. And desperate people were more willing to believe.
Which was probably dangerous, but she didn't care.
She came out from under the punch table and looked through the crowd for Icon, calling out for him. "Icon! Icon! Where are you?"
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Post by icon on Jul 17, 2011 22:41:33 GMT -5
Icon did a double take when the Mayor came by. Not just because of Quintrell's murder, but also because the punch table, where he was keeping his typewriter, almost got knocked over. Who knows what would have happened if something had happened to her, it might make her unable to communicate. Fortunately, everything was fine, if a bit jostled.
"Icon! Icon! Where are you?" He looked up; that was Terra's voice, wasn't it? She was calling out to him for some reason or another, but where was she? He scanned the crowd of panicked people, trying to see where she was. Was that her, coming up from under the punch table? What was she doing down there? He started to make his way over to her, to see what she was doing. "Terra? What are you doing down there? Is this supposed to be-"
He stopped in his tracks. She had the paper. Oh no, she had the paper. Had she read it? How much did Terra know? Icon wasn't thinking very well; this could end horribly if he wasn't careful.
Picking up speed, he practically ran over to her, trying to keep his voice as low as possible, but clearly failing. "Okay, look. We're trapped in here for the next however long this will be, that's a given. But if we stand out here in the open someone's bound to notice us, and if they do we're going to be in deep water. We've got to get cover, and fast." Grabbing his typewriter, he glanced over at her, then looked around the room. "Do you know any good places in here where we can stay unnoticed?"
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Post by Draco on Jul 17, 2011 22:43:11 GMT -5
Drake was still sitting in his chair, now munching some of the rolled up meat he brought himself. He was a little bored, the music wasn't all that great and he couldn't dance. So he didn't have a whole lot to do. That was when the mayor burst into the room screaming, then locking everyone inside.
"So you intend to lock us in with the killer? Sounds like a bad idea detective or someone does in a murder mystery. I mean, what are we just characters in a story? And who makes a hall with steel doors? That's just cra-"
"LET HIM GO!"
Drake stands in place with his eyes closed trying to drown out some pain.
"And there goes my eardrums. Ari, I think you're a bit louder now that you're a ghost."
He looks around.
"It's going to be impossible to tell who was gone and who wasn't. This place is so crowded, mostly with nameless people that aren't really important to the story...."
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