Location:breaking into your house and stealing your dogs
"Too late. Itssall alcohol up here. No braincells left." She yawns. Noon is way too early to be awake, mind you - this is some important business. "I dun think we have a detective, but maybe I'm wrong. I hope I am - I'm very tired and would liketa go nap. The sooner we figure this out the betta'."
She then turns to Matt, squinting. "M'bad. But in my defense, I was passed out ontha floor whenya said that. Was nap time. Not now. 'Cause someone died. Apparently the tapster."
Suddenly, her eyes turn sharp, and with startling amount of coherency for the amount of alcohol that is in her system, she shrieks, "WAIT. THE TAPSTER IS DEAD! WHO THE FUCK WOULD DO THIS?! I CAN'T GET MY DRINKS ANYMORE!!"
Currently face down in a spilled, melted puddle of a 711 cherry slushie in a Denny's Parking Lot with the ruined remains of my Danny Phantom fanfiction just out of my grasp. I think I hear the whispers of the ghost boy laughing at me in the distance, but that may be the delirium.
So I'm suspicious because I'm new here. Let's go over who's here with me.
We have Mayor Bold and his assistant, Turquoise. Say someone displeases these two. If they're part of a guild, they can go about murdering folks who annoy them ever so slightly, a la the Homeowner's association in Hot Fuzz.
Or the Sheriff, Comics. It's the age old tale, a corrupt officer allying with the mob to keep business flowing. Who knows what levels he'll stoop to to keep his job.
We got a Pharmacist, Bizfurd. Who's to say Biz didn't accidentally poison a man with a faulty mixture of medicine, and began murdering to cover up his manslaughter? Get a patsy to frame, and cut up the initial victim so that his cause of death can't be determined?
Alcohol can ruin your ability to make new memories. Perhaps Nyomi got into a violent altercation with the bartender, but her alcoholism means she can't remember it? And Billy was only taking the fall, out of a rare pang of conscience?
Over there is the Stablehand, LMS. Mayhaps LMS is more fond of horses than humans? So much that the bird values equine life over sapien?
A Travelling Tonic Seller. The perfect guise for an assassin! Who's to say that Inky won't kill during the mayhem? Murder some folk, then run. Others would just assume they've been chased out for Snake Oil Selling.
The Postmaster. A government position currently occupied by Skybuilder. Maybe there's some fraud going on? Kill people, take their mail and whatever valuables those parcels contain. Without the recipients, there is no one to claim the mail has been tampered with - and as we all know, tampering with the mail is a federal offense.
I honestly don't know what's going on. Are we killing each other for Badguy's crime, or some kind of disappearance? I'm confused, and two people have already accused me of whatever is going on.
Nama, meanwhile, has squirmed from a SINGLE DAY ONE ACCUSATION. The type that means NOTHING. For this reason, I suspect that NAMA's hands are bloodied with the blood of innocents. Perhaps between playing songs, the piano man heard some gossip going around about himself - or maybe someone didn't put enough bread in his jar. At the end of the day, they've acted suspicious.
Accusations are thrown. Fingers are pointed. Mysteries hang in the air. What vendetta did Mr. J. Johnsvon hold for the pianist, Nama? Could inky's tinktures really protect him from a mob? What has Turquoise been doing all day?
inky stood bravely and proudly, swigging his elixir and holding his arms out. "Behold my medicinal wonders! Come! Try me!" he shouted, "You all observed my success with Badguy! The promised inkplosion was so powerful, it collapsed through itself into an enxplosion!"
As Johnsvon pulled against the postman and the chemist's hold on him (Mayor Bolderousness supervising) he shouted accusations at Nama, counseling themselves with a somber tune on their beloved piano. Allegedly it was imported from East Asia. Extremely expensive.
Watching the traveler being dragged out of the saloon, the huckster cocked his head at him. "Perhaps you need purchase of this elixir, wanderer! You seem to be in a bind!"
Collectively, the mob threw the outsider into a jail cell and shut it tight. "Very good," said Mayor Bold, "We'll need to set up a watch. Maybe a rotation?"
"Well I am the Sheriff," responds Sheriff Comics, "I can watch 'im, same as always."
"No, no. You know the drill here. No one can be trusted. Not on their own."
Meanwhile, Mayor's Assistant Turquoise is on a walk as the sun sets, out past dark having lost track of the time. Walking along next to the tracks, they greet Lauren as they see her silhouette, still tied... Wait. No, something's wrong.
Coming closer, Turquoise finds a familiar knife stabbed through Lauren's chest, the same make that took the tapster's life. But the blood, it ran down onto the tracks, and... someone had used it to write markings?
Their hairs stand up on the back of their neck as they follow the symbols, not even hearing the echoing sound of a train whistle in the distance. The symbols... they start to arc off the tracks. What manner of witchery is this? If the train were to follow this path, it would derail...
Right where Turquoise is standing.
Hearing the whistle this time, it sounds wrong, corrupted, ghostly. Like something otherworldly. They feel the chilly, green light bearing down on them as the bloody glyphs glow. Turning suddenly to see the oncoming ghost train, they move fast, as fast as they can, and they can only hope, fast enough--
--as the train just barely misses them and veers off the tracks, barreling right on towards the town.
There's hardly any time to react. The whistle is loud, the blinding light shines through the windows. The glasses in the saloon shake, and the crash is heard across the entire town, waking all who'd shut their eyes. The town, clamoring, gathered at the wrecked jail.
The Mayor and the Traveler were fished safely, albeit injured, out of the wreckage, no sign of the train in sight. But the Sheriff isn't so lucky.
Sheriff Matt "Morning Star" Comics has been killed by the Guild! He was a vanilla townie!
End of Night 1.
Day 2 Begins.
Morning 2 starts now! Jeremy J. Johnsvon is up for execution at morning's end and may not vote, but may still post until he is killed! Get voting, y'all!
Life is a rollercoaster, but I’m buckling down; Launching by New Years’!
It's odd the guild would take out someone that was 2nd to be executed, especially someone I said was acting suspicious being the 3rd to join a day 1 wagon. I assume the angle here is to frame me in some way, or it could simply be that inky is in fact a guild member and they wanted the person who nearly got inky voted off gone. It's a strange kill decision no matter how I look at it but I understand 2 reasons that might be the case here.
Either way, Bold. What are you thinking? You were hasty to jump onto Jeremy last second once there were enough votes to get him killed. The vote he made was just a joke and yet you declared it suspicious, what is your reasoning there? Allow me to play you the jeopardy theme in D minor while I await your answer.
smoking is bad for your health. We don't want that now do we? nay