Search the Community
Showing results for tags 'Portalfig'.
Found 5 results
-
If one was to look upon the village of Le-Koro on any other day, they would have found a sanctuary of happiness and peace. The streets would be filled with mirthful Matoran, all talking, laughing, and sharing the joys of life. Not a single window would be shut, and the bright day would be enjoyed by all. Music would ring out as well, filling the air and lifting up the spirits of the downtrodden sky high, and Matoran dance throughout the city. This day was different though. On this day, the village in the trees was completely silent. Doors were closed and bolted shut, as fear prowled through the village. The only signs of life in most the streets were the instruments that had once brought such joy to the village, left forgotten on the ground. The leaves rustled softly above the village, bringing a whisper to stir the somber silence. A red Matoran stood, motionless, in the center of the town square - the only Matoran to be seen outside. Was it really only this morning that I brought the news here? Tavahka mused, It feels like this place hasn’t been touched in an eternity... Slowly he turned and looked towards his home village, towards Ta-Koro. He fought against the tide of memories that rushed to overtake him, but they swept in against his will. He remembered the fire, the screams of pain. He remembered getting away, and worst of all, he remembered looking back. Mata Nui, that look back. He had turned, and what he saw had stunned him. He saw Ta-Koro, his home, burn in the very liquid that had been their living. Seeing his everything burn and everyone he had ever known melt into nothing had left him in shock. Just the thought of that moment brought sudden tears to his eyes, which he began to wipe away furiously. He didn’t know what had caused the corruption of his friends, or who was responsible for the civil war that had overtaken Ta-Koro in its’ final hours. But, he feared that they were still out there, somewhere, and that the horrors would renew themselves soon. He began to move, slowly heading towards his temporary house while lost in his thoughts. His hands shook with fear at the sight he had seen. Memories of his friends still haunted him, and he couldn’t stand to think about the fact that he would never see them again. Tavahka wiped his eyes again, struggling to keep the tears in but failing drastically. Every crack made him jump, every slight sound made fresh tears spring into his eyes. He shambled to the house he had been directed to earlier that day, hoping that sleep would claim his tired body soon. He hadn’t gotten any rest since the bloodbath had started, and so he pushed along, struggling to reach his bed. Everyone else had gone away, mourning in their own ways. But they had left him, here in the middle of the town all alone. He closed his eyes, and he pictured the faces of those brutish caricatures of his friends, thirsty for blood. The sun was setting as he finally collapsed into his room. This was towards the outskirts of town, because it was as far away from the wreckage of Ta-koro Tavahka could get. The door thudded shut, and Tavahka closed his eyes and wondered. Wondered what could have happened if he had stayed. Wondered what he could have done to save somebody’s life, anyone’s life. Wondered if he could have the courage to keep living. He opened his eyes, still seeing phantoms of the deranged. This one was different though. This one didn’t go away as he focused more and more on it. “Did you miss us?” a voice hissed, startling Tavahka to the ground. This was no vision or memory, one of the killers had found him already! Tavahka opened his mouth to scream, scrambling backwards, but was silenced before he could. His body slammed into the ground, as the killer stood up and grinned while wiping his knife clean. “Let’s get ready to exterminate the rest of these insects.” he spat out, to seemingly nobody. The darkness itself seemed to grow darker, and the blood-red armored killer began to feel an uncomfortable sensation. He was nervous. “Your services will no longer be required.” a cacophony of voices spoke. “You’ve completed your task.” Suddenly the killer found his lungs filling with some foreign substances. He clawed at his throat, struggling for breath. In mere moments his body hit the floor, right next to his victim. Four beings stepped out of the dark. Each wore armor like the Matoran, but they were not simply villagers like the rest. No, these were monsters, traitors in every regard, and they were going to destroy any hope the village had left. They would not stop until their mission was accomplished. --- The next day, a red Hau was found in the center of the village, cut through with a savage M. The worst fears of those living in the small village were coming true. Their brothers had already fallen prey to this cult, who was to say if they could survive it? Bionicle Mafia II: Electric Boogaloo HD Edition --- Remember this, anybody? No? Okay... Basically I said I was going to write a Mafia epic long before Voltex started his epic. But then he beat me to it, and while I was writing this one, I realized that it really should probably be over here in comedies instead. After two years I finally have it in a state I am sorta okay with. This opening wasn't very funny, but things get a little more... off kilter in a bit. So yeah, let's do this. All of the scenes have stayed intact, as far as deaths go, as well as the fact I use much of what was actually said in topic and in PM as dialogue. So it gets pretty silly, if you remember how this game went haha So yeah. Thoughts?
- 5 replies
-
- 7
-
-
- NOW IN
- HIGH DEFINITION
- (and 2 more)
-
The stone hallways of the little Scarlet Abbey were silent. Nothing moved, nothing breathed. If one would describe the interior of the building, it could only be described as still. The courtyard outside, however, was a different story. The sun shone brightly on the little park, and the echoes of the robed initiates’ games reverberated into the sky above. The proceedings were heard from above by an elder in a long, rustling robe that concealed his entire frame. He stood in the belltower, using this time to get some time to keep his thoughts to himself. Being the sole Abbot of this small monastery meant that he did not have much time to himself these days. He glanced down at the others below him, then a thought began to creep up upon him. Time alone did this to him frequently, and he could hear it’s whispers in his ear. Come... He did not fight it, but rather took the opportunity to glance around before descending into the depths of the Abbey. His footsteps clinked rapidly as he made his way down into the storeroom in the basement. The muffled sounds of the playing students penetrated even this far, but the Abbot only heard one thing, one voice. Come, my brother... The Abbot leaned forward and pushed on a stone in the wall, which fell away with a rumbling murmur. Quietly, yet inspiring dread, a small door opened in the cold wall. The Abbot stared into the echoing dark, and then proceeded in with his stilted walk, going to where he knew he had to be. He came upon a room, black as night, with a little candle on a desk next to the doorway. Careful to not disturb the ground he stood on, he lit the candle and trekked forward. With the light, he could now see the pedestal with the massive tome on it, and the silver sword on the wall next to it. He was here once again. Ah, brother. You have come for me once again. It’s been too, too long. --- The young scribe looked up as the Abbot hustled by the slightly ajar door. He cracked his neck, and glanced around the room. He needed to speak with the Father about this troublesome translation, so he silently stood up and began to walk after him. The Father’s purposeful walk confused him, and he struggled to keep up. He didn’t want to call out - he’d been reprimanded many times for doing so - but yet he couldn’t seem to keep up. Finally the Abbot went into the basement, and the scribe thought he would catch up to him there. He descended the steps, opening his mouth to finally speak, when he saw the Abbot enter in a door that he knew wasn’t there before. The young scribe scrambled over to the entrance, and glanced into the dark room. There stood the Abbot, and another figure next to him. The figure was tall, with dark blue armor covered in spikes. It held a dark black mace in its’ hand, and it had a sickening malformation for a face. And worst of all, the scribe recognized it. This was Barshai: the Lord of Despair, the wielder of the Eternal Silence, and the holder of the Accursed Tongue. This was the very monster whose bones the monastery was built on, who was supposed to be dead - killed in the Demon Wars by Zatdae. The scribe found his body frozen as he watched the proceedings. The Father seemed to be making amends, maybe even pacifying the demon. The Scribe then noticed a gleam out of the corner of his eye, and he turned to see the legendary silver sword that Zatdae used to kill the Demon, hanging on the wall. He turned back to the proceedings in the room, and he was shocked to see the monster step forth, slowly raising the mace. The scribe had hardly registered this before he reached out and found himself holding the sword. He then found himself dashing forward, intent on protecting the Father. He yelled out as he ran the sword through the accursed figure, as he looked in it’s eyes. But what he saw there gave him pause. He didn’t see anger or evil; he saw betrayal. The room suddenly seemed to shift, and the scribe found that he still stood in the center. However, now he was standing next to, not a demon, but the Abbot. Realization hit the Scribe’s eyes, and the light from the little candle was snuffed out. Mistakes were made. --- The little monastery had never been a quiet place, no matter what the Abbot attempted to do. The birds sang, the scribes scribbled, there was always purposeful movement and the enjoyment of life. That is, until the Silence fell, and the darkness in the hearts of Matoran began to reign again. This was still the Scarlet Abbey, but its’ name was about to take on a much more dreadful meaning. Welcome to the Silence. (Also known as Bionicle Mafia XXI(2): Silence) Roles You know what these do, but whatever. Have some role descriptions anyways. 19x Villagers - Has the power to vote!... and that is it. 1x Detective - Searches 1 player a night, learns who they voted for the day before. Gets a normal conformation night one, since there wasn’t a day beforehand. Mafioso will come up as abstaining the vote. Can vote. 1x Doctor - Makes one player immune to death for one night per night. Can vote. 5x Mafioso - Have no power to vote, but can choose to collectively kill one player each night. 1x Secret Role - I’m still not going to tell you. Rules After all signups are in, this topic will be reported and closed. I will then send everyone a PM, telling them their role. This will be how everyone votes during the day, and how they receive each of the scenes. Do not make the game unfun. It is still a game. If you try to make it unfun any way, be it revealing all the roles or anything, I will repeatedly bash you over the head with phun. Do not make me do that. This is le numbero uno rule. It is so important I just mangled three languages or so in one sentence to get it across to you. There are innocence lists this game because, quite frankly, I don’t want to have to think too hard about my in-text clues but I also don’t want a normal suspect list. Just deal with it. =P If you are dead, please do your best to not affect the game. Dead people may be able to chatter, but they certainly can’t write notes. That’d be ridiculous. Null votes are just abstains. Please include me in all group PMs if possible. I want to be able and get the fullest picture possible for when I explain what happened after the game ends. Have fun! Player List 1. Taka Nuvia 2. Doorman 3. Mr. Tea/ Swimming Beard 4. Valendale 5. Chro 6. QP 7. Toa Chuck 8. --Seaborgium-- 9. The Forgotten Warrior (100)10. Voxumo 11. Pulse 12. Xaeraz 13. Blade 1(3.1). Unit 15. Ehks 16. fisher64 17. Dragon.Star 18. Jag18 19. Iborw, duh 20. Zakaro 21. Shadowhawk 22. Manducus 23. 24(27135). Luroka 25. Shadowvezon 26. Shadow_Ignited 27. Burnmad
-
Here is a place where one could theoretically tell me how I am doing with Operation Rainfall. This is a canon side-story of Voltex's Mafia Uprising universe. I don't have fancy multiple narrators or anything, though. This is just through Portal's eyes. =P So enjoy this little prequel romp through the world before Scenario Alpha takes place. Comment, rate, subscribe, follow, favorite and share or I'll nom you.
-
-----Portalfig looked absentmindedly at the racers as they flew by under the organizer booth again, a long streak of colors speeding down the track. He tapped his foot impatiently, as his gaze began to wander. He just wanted them to finish the race, he had to leave as soon as he possibly could. -----Of course, at least one organizer had to be at each race, and everyone else was busy. Portalfig almost laughed at this, because of the sheer number of responsibilities he had at this point. Not only was he one of the organizers of the Day Run, which was a full time job in and of itself, he also was now an interim organizer for the Bionifight league. -----Talk to me again about busy. He thought with a grin and a slight shrug of his shoulders. He didn’t really mind, but being forced to not be doing anything productive was really bothering him. He had a meeting right after this, depending on how fast he could run. He hadn’t ever had a reason to sprint from the Day Run stadium to the Bionifight Arena before, so he didn’t know how fast he could make it. -----The racers came charging back towards his booth, moving faster and faster with each lap. Then, for a fraction of a second, the Onu-Matoran’s gaze wandered onto the perfect spot. He noticed the leader of the race, a fan favorite rookie known as Gelosa, as he began to pull even further away from the rest of the pack. He was not anywhere close to any other racer on the straightest part of the course. -----Then, it happened. The leader was speeding along the track to the finish line when, without warning, his vehicle exploded in a blink of an eye. It was flipping in the air, turning over and over, before landing on it’s side with a nasty crunch of metal. The arena fell silent as the remaining racers took off past at incredible speeds. Portal looked on in horror as the audience began to murmur, and he came to a frightening conclusion. -----Somebody had sabotaged the race. Presenting... Bionicle Mafia: Operation Rainfall 6 Months before Isolation... -----“Portalfig, Hat Enterprises just contacted us. They want to talk about renewing their sponsorship again.” -----The Onu-Matoran looked up from the now-spotless desk and the untidy piles of random junk all over the floor to the doorway, where his secretary stood. “Thank you, Yoichi. When can I see them?” -----“You are open this Wednesday after the races. Shall I book it for you?” -----“Yeah, sure.” The Matoran stood up slowly and cracked his back as he looked around. “I had no idea Burn’s office would be such a mess. He always seemed like the clean type.” -----“He certainly wasn't that.” The Fe-Matoran said, glancing around with a slight grin on his face. -----“Surely he’ll be back soon.” The Onu-Matoran said absentmindedly, “Then we can work permanently back at the Day Run and not keep running back and forth like this.” -----Yoichi nodded solemnly, and then a quick flash of remembrance crossed his mask. “Oh, and the numbers from the last race were calculated finally.” He said, glancing down at the paper in his hand. “Our profits were up a full sixteen percent from the race before.” -----“Really?” Portalfig said, an impressed look crossing over his face. All the while he was planning his next attack on the messy room, before giving up and collapsing into the chair. “Isn’t that the biggest profit we’ve gotten so far?” -----“Yes, sir. We estimate that we will sell out every race in the final set of the tournament.” -----“That’s good.” Portalfig said, “Anything else?” -----“That is everything for the moment, so I’ll leave you to your crusade.” Yoichi said, before turning and leaving Portalfig to combat the room by himself. -----After another scan of the room, the Onu-Matoran just slumped even deeper into the chair. To clean all this up would take much longer than he had time for. He shoved himself up and cleared a path with his foot to the door, where he grabbed his bag and made his way cautiously back to the desk. He pulled out a stack of paper, a lightstone, and a pen and set them down before tossing the bag onto his shoulder. -----He looked back around at the hurricane of a room, and decided that he had done enough with this for the day. It was a temporary accommodation, anyways. And after all, the races started in just a few hours, and Portalfig had to attend. But first, he had to do his pre-race check-ups on everything. -----He stepped slowly back across the room, and let himself out the door. He sighed, a breath of relief escaping his lips. It was clean out here, and he much preferred it. A wave to Yoichi told him that they were leaving, and they left the Bionifight facilities at a brisk pace. They headed for the chutes, making small talk about the weather and the newest kind of vehicle that was sweeping the Day Run, a wheeled model that was quite inefficient in Portalfig’s mind. Yoichi swore that it would be much faster than anything else they had seen before, but Portal was not convinced. -----They passed by a small newsstand on the way, displaying yet another article about JiMing’s success in the Bionifight ring. Portalfig stopped for just a moment to grab one, pay, and then he was on his way. “Might as well see what the press is saying about this tournament, considering that is my job now and all.” He said with a grin to his secretary, before folding it up and placing it in his bag for later review. -----The two continued on their way, and after a quick trip through the chutes, they finally arrived at the Day Run facility. They entered without stopping, and together made their way down the stairs into the bowels of the facility. A long hallway stretched out before them, lit brightly by a multitude of lightstones embedded in the ceiling. -----This underground hallway was the backbone of the Day Run facility, connecting most every part of it together. If you needed to get to the racer apartments, you took the hallway. If you had to get to the engineering hanger, you took the hallway. The kitchens, the janitorial sector, the experimental track, and even the entrance to the real track were all connected by this one artery of stone and mortar. -----This highway of efficiency was bustling at this moment. Matoran were busily zipping from to and fro, trying to put the finishing touches on everything before the audience arrived. Portalfig put his head down, and began to make his way through the crowd. He followed the stream of people heading towards his destination, and decided to take a quick detour into his favorite place in all of the Day Run. He motioned to Yoichi to go ahead to the organizer booth, and then took off through the crowded hallway. Before long, he saw his destination. -----Splitting off from the others, Portalfig opened one of the double doors into the hanger and slipped in. He looked around the entire room, taken aback yet again. He could never get used to the sheer size of this room. The engineers were all climbing up and around the multitude of machines, performing last minute tests to make sure everything would be safe. From the bipedal robots, to the Rahi mecha, to the newer wheeled variety of racer, every one of them had to be double and triple-checked as the race grew ever closer. -----Nodding happily at the busy Matoran all around, Portal then turned around and slipped back out the door. Today’s race was going to be a good one. He stepped back into the speeding stream of people, heading this time towards the organizer booth. Twenty minutes and seven flights of stairs later, he was there. He walked into the room, happy to see it wasn't completely destroyed yet. This booth was Portal’s favorite, because it had the greatest view of the city outside of the Day Run Arena. The skyline just looked fantastic in the dim light of the evening, something that Portal always enjoyed to see. -----Of course, they were going to “renovate” it before the final race. The White Council was coming, but their booth had to be brought up to some security standards before the championship. This saddened Portal a bit because it would ruin the view, but the prospect of being backed by the rulers of the city would have benefits, so he kept quiet about it. -----Yoichi was sitting in one of the six chairs in the room, all around the meeting table in the middle of the room. Portal went and sat down next to the Po-Matoran, looking out onto the clean track. He spun around and looked out the other window out onto the city, then he sighed and spoke. -----“I should probably be doing some productive, shouldn't I?” -----Yoichi looked at Portal and laughed, then responded. “Yeah, I have a few things that you could be signing right now. After that, Djoser did send us a package detailing the Bionifight league and how all that is going to work, so that will need to be read at some point.” -----“Alright,” Portal said, moving his chair up to the table, “Let’s get this stuff done.” -------- -----Twenty minutes of signing papers and contracts, and a little more than an hour of reading up on his duties as interim Bionifight organizer later, the Matoran started pouring into the arena. Portalfig sat back in his chair, looking forward to the race ahead but dreading the final few laps. He would be cutting it really close to his meeting with the Bionifight League. Standing up and stretching, he began to walk around the room before the race. -----Yoichi walked back in, thankfully without any more papers. “RomeTech just contacted us, they want to meet with you in a week or so about renewing their sponsorship.” -----Portal visible slumped, his voice starting to tremble as he responded. “Oh. I guess that means I’ll have to meet with Kaiser, then?” -----Yoichi nodded solemnly. He was well aware of Portal’s acute dread of every meeting with Kaiser. He came back every time looking deflated and defeated. “If anyone was going to scare me to death, it would be that Matoran.” Portal often quipped after every meeting. -----Portal rubbed his eyes, and then put his fists down, determination in his voice. “Well, I guess I will be seeing Kaiser soon then. When do we have it scheduled for?” -----“You can go in...” The Po-Matoran said, looking through his notes, “A couple of weeks from now sound good?” -----“Sounds fine. That gives me plenty of time to hope he calls it off.” the Onu-Matoran replied with a grin. He turned to walk back towards the window, and saw that the race was finally about to start. “Come on, sit down.” he said to his friend, “No need for us to stand when there are all these chairs in here.” -----The two sat down, and made themselves comfortable as the sound of the vehicles revving up filled the arena, meshing with the voices of thousands of excited fans in a joyous ruckus. The lights turned, and a explosion of noise hit the arena as the racers took off, speeding around the track. Portal watched intently, but before long the result of the race was pretty much settled. The fan favorite, Gelosa, gained almost a half a mile around the track ahead of the others, leading to a long, boring race. Portal stood up as he became restless, hoping that he could leave soon. -----But then it happened. Gelosa’s vehicle was gone in a second, and Portal had to pick up the pieces left behind. -------- -----The flames continued to die as more and more racers passed by or colliding into the flaming wreck; Portal ran around the room as he began to try and do damage control. This did not bode well for the Day Run. The paramedics were already on the track, pulling Gelosa’s body out from the dangerous, twisted frame of the ruined vehicle. Portal called the other organizers about the event, just one thought running through his head the entire time. -----Somebody must have sabotaged the race... -----Review Topic
-
Far over, the staff's broken bones Through plot twists deep, to games unknown We must away, ere break of day, To see, what game X holds... It exists only in legends, fables, and the tales of travelers driven insane by their experiences. It exists as nothing more than a phantom, a training ground for one to prove to the others that they are better, more worthy. It can only – will only – should only – exist as a mere figment of imagination, as the wisp of a dream (or a nightmare) resting there, foreboding, at the edge of a mind never to be forgotten. How it ever came to be within these collective minds is a question that will never – can never – should never – be answered. For it to truly exist would be for everything else to truly exist as well, for all of those countless bloody battles to be real, and not just the figment of some madman’s imagination. Hundreds of feet into the air with smoke always blooming from its peak, its rocky, jagged slopes burning eternally and treacherously alluring, a living death trap designed for only the most curious of subjects. Mt. Power. The sound of darkness had erupted over Metru-Nui, and a plague of shadows had slain the Great Spirit. Those unlucky residents within the formerly great city that survived found themselves picked off one by one at night and hung for crimes that never existed during the day. The first death set off a chain reaction of destruction that could never end, and the ever vengeful spirit of Voltex had driven one being in particular to desperation. So far that when Voltex rejoined the realm of the living to reclaim the Staff of Unlimited Power for himself, disaster had struck – Portalfig, possessed by the spirit of Makuta, did nothing to help as a Mysterious Figure, more powerful than Voltex could have imagined, seized control of the Staff for himself. In the battle that followed, the sound of darkness was muted and Voltex defeated, the Staff stolen by a Mysterious Figure as the robot housing Metru-Nui lay splintered and smoking across the deserts of Bara-Magna. Then the Sentinels, heralds of the darkened skies arrived. The Mysterious Figure began picking off the allies of Voltex one by one, with a new Mafia growing in power as they eliminated the village at twice the speed, with each player in the twisted game linked together by the Mysterious Figure. And as the village grew more desperate, the Mafia more powerful, the Sentinels weaker, and the Mysterious Figure more confident, Voltex solved the mystery and revealed the Mysterious Figure for who he was in a magnificent coup, taking back the Staff that was rightfully his. With the Mysterious Figure destroyed, the spirit of Makuta struck back with a vengeance, revealing himself to have been controlling Portalfig all along – and as Makuta wreaked havoc upon the planet, something happened. Voltex, in one final act of desperation, broke the Staff of Unlimited Power completely, drawing everyone into one final conflict. It was the blink of an eye, a flash of light – and then everyone was gone. The Staff of Unlimited Power, misused, stolen and abused for too long, and finally broken, had returned to its home intact, forcefully returning to its pedestal within the firey depths of the mountain. And it took everyone else with it. Now, with the universe on the eve of destruction, it is the darkest dawn. No more Mysterious Figures abusing control, no more Hosts to be stolen from. Just the Desolation of the Staff lying in wait before the assembled players, the fields of ruined structures and memories from games long past awaiting one final entourage of viewers. Beyond the fields lies the true task, the one task that every Host has accomplished in spirit and mind but never in body. It is the one task that, if completed, will truly render one or many most powerful – for better or for worse – and will end it all. To ascend the treacherous peaks, to climb up the avalanches, to contact the chamber – to survive the plunge into a flaming cavern of death, filled with the overpowering radiation of pure energy and power all emanating from one single fractured Staff that repairs itself all the while shaping and re-shaping the path to its pedestal as the ground shifts into traps upon traps around it. After forty-nine games of different members taking control for their own purposes time and time again, despite the wipes of history and the losses of memory continuing the tradition again and again, what was once begun by the legendary Fighty must now end here. This is the first, the third, the tenth, the fiftieth, the final battleground. Not a town, not some village or city, not a ravaged desert wasteland – all are more hospitable locations than this. It is here that everything ends and everything begins, it is here that everything is lost and restored, it is here that everyone is dies and is eternally brought back to life. Here, in this Desolation of the Staff, here on the slopes of the mountain, here in the cavern of legends. Mt. Power. It exists only in legends, fables, and the tales of travelers driven insane by their experiences. It exists as nothing more than a phantom, a training ground for one to prove to the others that they are better, more worthy. It can – will – must – only exist as a mere figment of imagination, as the wisp of a dream (or a nightmare) resting there, foreboding, at the edge of a mind never to be forgotten. Why it ever came to be within these collective minds is a question that can – will – must – be answered. For it does truly exist, and so everything else truly exists as well, all of those countless bloody battles are real (good and bad), and they are not just the figment of some madman’s imagination. Hundreds of feet into the air with smoke always billowing from its peak, its rocky, jagged slopes burning eternally and treacherously alluring, a living death trap designed for only the most desperate of subjects. This is the end. This is the beginning. Rules 1) BZP Rules apply. 2) Roles will have 2 days to PM their respective Host each night. 2 days will be given to vote upon each scene. 3) Anti-Town roles will be chosen by Portalfig; Neutral and Pro-Town roles will be decided by Voltex. 4) One vote change is allowed each day; if changing, you must state who you are changing from. The Roles (Roles old, forgotten, current and new have converged for this fight… some of them more unfortunate than others.) Pro-Town Matoran x18 – The semi-ordinary members of the group; they can vote in the day for the execution. Detective Pyro x1 – Thanks to the energy radiation from the Staff of Unlimited Power, the Detective and Pyro were merged together into one Toa – he can either investigate one player each night, or select a player to kill. Doctor Medic x1 – The Medic managed to avoid reaching the same fate as the Detective; as such, he can still protect one player each round from the Traitors. Turaga x2 – The old Turaga, who were aged rapidly thanks to the effects of the Desolation, both have a vote that counts for double during the executions. As experienced craftsmen, they can also give one of three inventions to a different player in the game each night. Inventions: --Plot Armor (Protection for One Night) --Plot Weapon (One Kill That Night) --Plot Crown (Double Vote at Next Lynching) Anti-Town Mysterious Figure x1 – The leader of the Traitors; he decides who to send each night and who to target. He cannot be lynched until the Ghost and four Traitors are dead, and he cannot be sent to kill until they are dead either. Plague Doctor x1 – A player hired by the Mysterious Figure and modified into a cyborg medic for the Traitors; each night, they can protect one member of the Anti-Town faction from death. If discovered by the Detective, their targets also become marked for death (added to the suspect list or, if sent that night, suspect list shortened). Ghost x1 – Like the regular four Traitors, except that he shows up as a Matoran upon death; after death, he may vote via a certain phrase decided upon with the GM at the beginning of the game. Traitors x4 – Four other Matoran that betrayed the group to join the Mysterious Figure; one is sent each night to do the killing. Neutral Raven x1 – [REDACTED] The Players (Unfortunately, due to the circumstances of arrival, a player list had to be scrounged up. The only one we could find was from a Village that, regrettably, elected Lhikevikk as its Mayor. At this point in time, we are still stuck with this list and have not been able to find any others.) 6) Toarobot18 30) Derpystar7 - Matoran; Lynched, Day 5 19) Xaeraz - Traitor; Lynched, Day 2 1) Punished Snake 22) Pulse 3) Taka Nuvia - Traitor; Killed by Detective Pyro, Night 4 15) Ehks 27) Baltarc - Matoran; Lynched, Day 5 9) Canis Lycaon 25) Burnmad: Toa of Emoticons 20)13.1) Unit#phntk#1 - Matoran; Killed by Traitors, Night 1 17) Toa Onarax 4) ZakarOH! 8) Voxumo 11) Rahkshi Guurahk - Matoran; Killed by Turaga Weapon, Night 6 26) ShadowVezon1 - Matoran; Killed by Turaga Weapon, Night 2 7) MaliceGhost - Medic; Killed by Turaga Weapon, Night 3 12) Valendale - Matoran; Lynched, Day 1 16) Durandal Years 21) Shadowhawk - Traitor; Lynched, Day 4 23) Tyler Durden - Detective Pyro; Killed by Traitors, Night 5 5) Man of Miracles - Matoran; Lynched, Day 2 18) Sinclair - Matoran; Lynched, Day 3 2) Chro - Matoran; Killed by Traitors, Night 4 28) Lloyd: The White Wolf - Turaga; Killed by Traitors, Night 3 14) -JL- 24) Toa Kranan: TOUAB - Traitor; Lynched, Day 3 10) Norik of Gielinor 29) -Toa Lhikevikk- - Raven; Killed by Traitors, Night 2 13) Blade: #XIII.Roxas - Matoran; Lynched, Day 7 Fun fact for you all: aside from replacing Spot 20 with Spot 13.1, this player list is numbered the exact same as Bionicle Mafia 35: Chaos. Spots filled! Roles will be sent out soon-ish?
