It also means that it is a disincentive for people up to no good to just try to be quiet throughout the game.
But there is also the fact that those who are good at mafia will do a lot of talking to hide their guilty role by talking a bunch. Being quiet could just mean they are bad at the game and don't know what to say.
SylandraJoin Queue for Mafia GamesThe Last Mafia Game
I get starting out and being unsure. But remember: this is a game! If you aren't participating, why are you playing? One of the best ways to learn mafia is to try things out and see what works and what doesn't. And while being quiet is suspicious, talking too much is certainly no guarantee of innocence, as any mafia game here will show you!
@Rolsand last game you had a daypower that 9 times out of 10 belongs to a townie. That's the reason people eased off their suspicions on you.
"Oh yeah, you're a naughty mayor, aren't you? Misfile that Form MA631-D. Comptroller Shevat's got a nice gemstone disc for you, but yer gonna have to beg for it."
The concept of "policy lynching" is a pretty interesting one that shows up in a lot of Mafia contexts-- basically, forms of conduct that make one liable to a lynching regardless of one's town status. Lurking is a big one, or in more chat-based versions like Town of Salem spamming.
Jadice, the Frost Queen says to you, "Constant vigilance."
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SylandraJoin Queue for Mafia GamesThe Last Mafia Game
"Oh yeah, you're a naughty mayor, aren't you? Misfile that Form MA631-D. Comptroller Shevat's got a nice gemstone disc for you, but yer gonna have to beg for it."
Talk too little, talk too much.. I think you're going to be suspicious either way. That's why I always vote no lynch on day 1 (and that's how they do it in Town of Salem).
Update: I have listened to the first three episodes of the podcast and have a better idea as to what the setting is. I am totes ready to take on glowing cloud.
So, voting to not lynch on day 1 seems to be the consensus, since it would be more or less random. Eh, in my opinion at least, since there is no definitive evidence at all, and very little incentive or reason to lie, and thus very little chance for someone to be caught lying. Rather, going off people's conversational habits would be the only way to lynch someone.
In any case, the policy to lynch based on certain behaviors seems to be based on categorizing certain behaviors as scum-like or town-like. Lying, for instance, is a more likely tactic for scum, since they would benefit the most from most pieces of disinformation. And keeping quiet also keeps information from the town or shows cautiousness, like you have something to hide. No behavior is completely suspicion free, of course, since talking too much may be just a way of spreading misinformation/distracting. To be honest, though, voting in this way also targets people new to playing, since they might be quiet out of caution and indecision, or be caught in a lie because they actually thought differently between the former and latter posts. Everything comes down to patterns of behavior, since mistakes are usually one time things, while patterns of lying or of talking too little are more indicative of a need to do those things.
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SylandraJoin Queue for Mafia GamesThe Last Mafia Game
Everyone has gotten to post a bit so far, and we all seem agreed on a no lynch. I'm okay with this too. Most importantly, everyone has had something to add and contribute to the discussion.
A few of you seem to think the Glow Cloud is our enemy in this mafia game, while others think we're facing StrexCorp. Figuring out who our common enemy is seems to be the first matter of business for town then. It's unlikely Day One will provide any leads in that department unless something unexpected happens.
So let's see what happens when we invoke the unexpected.
"Oh yeah, you're a naughty mayor, aren't you? Misfile that Form MA631-D. Comptroller Shevat's got a nice gemstone disc for you, but yer gonna have to beg for it."
On Friday, Dark Owl Records will be holding a Name That Tune contest. This will not be a normal song-identifying contest, however. Rather than being given a line of musical score, or listening to a short excerpt of a song, participants will have to guess what song the store's owner, Michelle Nguyen, is currently listening to in the isolated solitude of her home. If anyone is able to guess the song, Michelle will know that it has become too well-known because someone has apparently heard of it, and will have to find some even more obscure indie orchestral country-disco-dubstep fusion to listen to. There are no prizes for winning this contest.
Saturday will be an exact repeat of last Saturday, with one small difference. This change in your day will be so tiny that you'll be completely incapable of noticing it, even though you now possess the knowledge that it will happen, and you'll be unable to even determine it while reflecting upon the day in the future. However, this tiny, minuscule modification to your day will have a cataclysmic effect on your life twelve years and three months later.
Sunday is a national holiday. However, Night Vale does not recognize most national holidays, and this day is no exception, so Sunday will be a normal day.
Next Tuesday, the Museum of Forbidden Technologies will be unveiling two new exhibits.
The first will be a guided tour of the history of nuclear technology in the United States. I'm told the key feature of this exhibit is a recently declassified video showing a belligerently drunk Enrico Fermi urinating in the corner of a Los Alamos gathering hall before condemning Albert Einstein into custody for treason under one of McCarthy's Red Scare campaigns.
The other new exhibit is a history of cryptography, through the ages. Even as far back as the Roman Empire, crude forms of ciphered messages were used by couples to surreptitiously share descriptions of their genitals with one another. More recently, encryption has become a hot-button issue due to its potential to prevent law enforcement agencies from potentially preventing terrorist activities by intercepting their communications, as well as making it more difficult for the Vague, Yet Menacing, Government Agency to record every minute detail of every person's life. This exhibit will cover the full evolution of cryptography from its inception until now.
Due to the danger posed by possession of this knowledge, all visitors will have their thoughts encrypted with a key known only to Sheriff's Secret Police, the World Government, and the Illuminati.
This has been the Community Calendar.
I received a message from Station Management just a bit ago. It seems that the recent concealment of identities in Night Vale has left us unable to find our current intern. To address this problem, Station Management just grabbed random passers-by off the street and told them they were now Night Vale Community Radio interns, at least until everyone's identities are revealed once more. "There's a good chance we've got our real intern somewhere in the group. It's not like anyone else has any reason to walk through this neighborhood anyway," Station Management told me by growling and shrieking loudly over the building's public address system. Upon receiving this news, several of the new interns broke down in tears for reasons I'm not entirely clear on.
A woman claiming to be Trish Hidge, the Deputy Assistant to the mayor, called a press conference earlier to discuss the new annual Night Vale Festival of Masquerades and Lies. No one of course can verify her claim, but with nothing much else to do, pretty much everyone in the town showed up anyway. We sent our new intern Othero to City Hall cover the press conference for us.
"The City Council would like to announce that this first and last annual Night Vale Festival of Masquerades and Lies is most definitely not a cover-up for a botched bloodstone circle chant," the presumptive Trish Hidge announced. "Any rumours that the City Council mistakenly summoned a group of people from some other world are blatantly false. Further, the Council absolutely did not engineer the Festival so that the citizens of Night Vale could clean up their mess while they watched from afar, drawing amusement from the confusion and drama that will inevitably arise from the concealed information and uncertain loyalties of everyone involved," she continued.
"Unrelated to the Festival, I would also like to announce that the City Council left Night Vale earlier today on their planned ski vacation to Double Mexico. Even though they forgot to tell anyone about it, they wanted me to make sure everyone knew that the trip had been planned for the past couple months. They wish they could have stayed to enjoy the Festival, but the airline miles on their credit card were about to expire, they'd already had the resort booked, and they were really looking forward to using their new ski lances on the slopes." The press conference was concluded when Trish threw a smoke grenade at the ground and ran cackling back into City Hall.
Intern Othero then reported that the gathered crowd looked about at each other confused and uncertain of what to do. Everyone knew the rule of the Festival, but no one was sure what they should really be doing that day. Really, no one knew much of anything. However, one person stepped to the front of the group and stood on the steps where the press conference had just finished, the woman apparently granted the name Sylandra by whatever force had reduced everyone to bland simulacrums of people. A look of impatient disgust crossed her face before she began hovering in the air and announced, "COWER AND FLEE IN TERROR, SLAVES OF THE CLOUD!", and began raining dead animals down upon the land.
The dramatic effect of the Glow Cloud's reveal -- all hail -- was dampened by the constraints of its current body, however. Its grand pronouncement, rather than being a thunderous drone that echoed chillingly through the mind, was reduced to the high-pitched shriek of an upset teenage girl. The hail of dead animals was more of a drizzle of small wildlife, chipmunks and geckos and such, rather than the destructive and horrifying deluge of lions and aurochs and other large creatures. Apparently its powers are affected by the size of its body, and this small human form is most certainly not the sprawling, gargantuan cloud that we've come to fear and worship in the past.
Upon realizing the diminishing effects the frail human body had on her abilities, a deep sulk settled into Sylandra's face. She crossed her arms and let out a loud snorted HMMMPH, and slowly floated away into the distance, leaving a patchy trail of dead animals in her wake. The other citizens glanced at each other briefly before also departing from City Hall, each and every one sharing a bit of embarrassment on behalf of the once mighty Glow Cloud.
So, ummmmm, yeah. That happened, apparently. Hopefully when all of this is resolved, the Glow Cloud isn't too upset over the situation.
I should mention that intern Othero was in Sylandra's path as she fled the gathering, and was by chance struck in the head and killed by a falling armadillo. While we don't know who Othero actually is, he was probably a person who did something, and will possibly be missed by someone else.
The first will be a guided tour of the history of nuclear technology in the United States. I'm told the key feature of this exhibit is a recently declassified video showing a belligerently drunk Enrico Fermi urinating in the corner of a Los Alamos gathering hall before condemning Albert Einstein into custody for treason under one of McCarthy's Red Scare campaigns.
Ieptix with that joke:
2014/04/19 01:38:01 - Leolamins drained 2000000 power to raise Silvanus as a Vernal Ascendant.
2014/07/23 05:01:29 - Silvanus drained 2000000 power to raise Munsia as a Vernal Ascendant.
2015/05/24 06:03:07 - Silvanus drained 2000000 power to raise Arimisia as a Vernal Ascendant.
2015/05/24 06:03:58 - Silvanus drained 2000000 power to raise Lavinya as a Vernal Ascendant.
Step outside. Look around. Watch the bustle of life surging around you as others hustle hither and thither, running errands and meeting with friends and trading their lives for money only to later trade that money for the sustenance of life. Beneath the blue sky, turn your contemplation to puzzling out the paradox of existence. Ponder the juxtaposition of the ultimate futility of life against the utter joy of a lover's warm embrace. With enough thought, you'll stumble upon a single moment of perfect understanding. Realization will set in that you have been waiting for this very moment since the nascence of your awareness. Everything that was, is, and will ever be will be arrayed in your mind, and you will know the singular truth. But as soon as this moment arrives, it will pass, as it was of course naught but the one single moment. Comprehension will flee your mind, leaving only the husk of memory, and from then until you die you'll strive for nothing more than the return of that glimpse of the infinite.
Burger King. Have it your way.
This has been a word from our sponsors.
This morning at the station, we received a phone call stating that one of the anonymous personas now inhabiting our town, the one calling himself Synkarin, had been found dead. We sent one of our new interns, Thul, to investigate this alarming news. Upon arriving, he approached the body on the ground. As a crowd gathered, whatever strange effect woven about the citizens of Night Vale faded, revealing the true identity behind the facade.
Intern Thul reported that the newly-revealed body was ten feet tall, winged, and radiating a dark light, with three deep puncture wounds through the neck. "It's not an angel," Thul told me, "because angels do not exist. But if they did exist, I think this is what they would look like." The gathered crowd shared numerous glances. Some were confused looks, hoping to find a hint of understanding in the silent eyes of another. Some were suspicious glares, raining guilt upon anyone who had the audacity to exist within the reach of sight. Some were frightened, seeking only comfort from their fellow citizens.
I find myself baffled by this situation, Night Vale. No, not baffled. Concerned. I find myself concerned by this situation. According to Old Woman Josie, angels are immortal and cannot die, even though they don't exist. So how can this not-angelic being, who presumably goes by the name Erika, be dead? Does the transformation and loss of identity the town is experiencing reach deeper than the superficial? Does it change the very nature of those affected? I don't know if we will ever know.
Next up, the Children's Fun-Fact Scie--
*RRRRIIIIIING, RRRRRIIIING*
*The sound of Cecil picking up the headset on a vintage 1600's rotary phone is audible over the broadcast.*
Um, hello?
"Cecil, it's intern Thul. I was on my way back to the stati--"
How did you get my cell phone number?
"Well, I found it. On my way back--"
What do you mean you found it? It's not like you can just find people's cell phone numbers. Only the World Government has that kind of power.
"Normally you'd be right, but Cecil, on my way--"
This doesn't make any sense. A mobile number isn't a physical thing you can find just lying around. How did you get my phone number?
"If you'd give me a chance to explain. I was on my way back when I found another body on the ground, like the one we found before. This one had a hatchet buried in the chest and was holding a cell phone and, well, um, I don't know how to say this, but..."
I don't understand what this has to do with you getting my cell phone number, Thul.
"I, um, I-I-I..."
Just explain to me how you have my number!
"IT WAS CARLOS'S PHONE!"
What?
"The body I found, it changed back to normal after I found it, and it was Carlos. He was holding his phone. It looked like he was just about to open a text message you'd sent him. That's how I found your number."
*The banging of furniture sounds through the radio, followed by a stifled sob and a slamming door.*
Like all the other tall, winged, radiant creatures named Erika (with a K!), you are most definitely not an angel. Angels do not exist. It is a crime to acknowledge the existence of angels, or to know anything of the hierarchy of the angels. Luckily, you aren't an angel. We'd have to inform the City Council otherwise, wouldn't we?
Each night you may activate the following power:
Protector: You may target another player, and your non-heavenly powers will protect them from up to one death that night.
You win with the town.
---
Ileein was Carlos.
You are a scientist with perfect hair, perfect teeth, and a perfect voice. You first came to Night Vale several years ago, seeking to study this most scientifically interesting community in the U.S. In your time here, you and Cecil have fallen in love and developed a strong, lasting relationship together. And remember: a scientist is always fine.
Each night you may activate one of the two following powers:
Investigator: You can investigate one other person, revealing their true identity.
Note to Cecil: You may send Cecil a tweet-sized (up to 140 characters) text for him to read during his broadcast at the start of the next day. If you are tracked when using this power, your target will be revealed as Cecil.
I thought Ieptix is playing Cecil - Perhaps I'm missing something but what use could it be to appear as him?
But yes. Sylandra should say why she randomly ended the day with her evil glow cloud. Also - can your glow cloud do anything else, Sylandra besides end the day?
Comments
@Rolsand last game you had a daypower that 9 times out of 10 belongs to a townie. That's the reason people eased off their suspicions on you.
Yes. Day is over. Will post night stuff in a few hours.
But yes. Sylandra should say why she randomly ended the day with her evil glow cloud. Also - can your glow cloud do anything else, Sylandra besides end the day?