distortion [THE END]

PM:

Mr. Gerbear wrote:what does drandahl's role even MEAN

STOP GIVING ME THE PAGETOP, FORUM

Kiyoko wrote:

You loved him. He had swept you off your feet with a smile that could light up any night. A voice that sounded like birdsong. You always remembered magazines in the doctor’s office screaming the words “Find the one for you!” on every page, but back then you didn’t really believe it. You always laughed it off as the kind of thing you’d see in a cheap flick from the rental store down the road, that the whole idea of soulmates was reserved for Shakespearean plays and racy Harlequin novels. But the moment you laid eyes on him, you knew. You had met him in a coffee shop, the product of weeks upon weeks of your friends hyping him up as the perfect match for you. Through an awkward series of events, it was he who ended up ordering coffee for both of you and paying for it, but he didn’t seem to mind. You protested, of course, but the moment he looked at you with that sweet smile, you felt everything just melt away. From then on, friendship blossomed, which quickly fell away to love, which fell away to talks of something more. Those romantic clichés that you had laughed about ages ago: the silly faces, the awkward dates, the gift giving -- they had become part of your daily routine, and you loved it. There was one problem, though: his sibling, the one with the dark eyes who always fell into a bad mood when you were in the room. You took no notice of their behaviour after the first few dinners over: you hadn’t done anything to them, and he had always reassured you that they just took time to warm up to new people. His words set your mind at ease, and you figured it was better just to shrug it off rather than question it. If they didn’t like you, that’d be something they’d have to deal with on their own terms. And as long as he was in your life, it was going to be okay. But like every great romance, there comes tragedy. You weren’t invited to the funeral. Though the family apologized to you later, you knew in your heart that the sibling had made sure of your absence. Instead, you walked up to the grave the next day, umbrella in hand, for your funeral of one. After a few moments of silence, you knelt down next to the gravestone and opened your mouth. You knew in your mind that he couldn’t hear you or reply back, but the mind is easily swayed by the heart, and before you knew it you spoke. “I love you.”

TOWN There’s someone out there who you don’t have the best relationship with…

• If no one votes, everyone loses.
  
• There are no longer any claiming rules, so anything is fair game.
  

alcasync wrote:
N0: no kill
N1: eleni killed, flavor links to Mr. Gerbear
N2: Mr. Gerbear is stunned, no kill
(D2) Mr. Gerbear is lynched and flips mafia
N3: Ardonye is killed, flavor links to high seraph
N4: deo is killed, flavor links to high seraph; high seraph is killed and flips mafia
N5: failed kill on alcasync, flavor links to Mr. Alice
N6: failed kill on Cure (flavor inconclusive, I'll come back to this!)
N7: failed kill on Ninfia, flavor links to Mr. alice; Mr. Alice killed and flips mafia
N8: Five is killed, flavor links to cameras and pentagrams and tin foil
N9: Mr. Gerbear is killed, flavor links to cameras
N10: failed kill on alcasync, flavor links to wooden hydra carving
N11: Ardonye stunned, no kill
N12: Cure is killed, flavor mentions broken window, footsteps and stab wounds

rollover wrote:There are monsters in this town, and only one remains. It lurks in the nights invisible and leaves a gory wake. Humanity laid bare. The insides of man, exposed: strewn across the landscape, torn open and raw and bleeding. The insides of man, exposed: an ugliness of spirit, twisted with suspicion, betrayal, and heartlessness. When the storm has passed, the survivors close their eyes, not in regret of the lives that were taken, but relief that they have been spared that cruel misfortune.

Uncertainty is a fascinating drug. It makes great beasts out of shadows where only shadows lie. In that warped reality, the town created its own monsters. It molded them from paranoia and disorientation, from themselves, human and flawed, and from all of humanity’s monstrous potential.

All the misguided who pulled the trigger and thought themselves heroes: did they sleep soundly in their beds that night? Did they rinse crimson from their hands and consider them clean? On the quest to truth and justice, there are acceptable casualties. In order to stop a greater evil, some lesser evils are justified. Theirs was, at its origin, a noble aspiration.

Were they surprised when, at that moment of judgment, they were judged and deemed unworthy? And the town celebrated, briefly but with conviction where their illusions aligned with their internal truths. Only by branding the fallen could they see progress. Only through eradication might they uncover that elusive epiphany.

And now, only one remains. Progress? That remains to be seen. For now, the truth is thus: A monster lurks where there stood no monster before. It sees through stolen eyes and beats a stolen heart. Beneath its stolen ribs, it fills its stolen lungs, every breath a transgression.

In order to stop a greater evil, some lesser evils are justified. Theirs was, at its origin, a noble aspiration.

Spoiler:

Kiyoko wrote:

RESULTS As you wander the streets, you pick the bell up by the head and fiddle with it briefly as someone else passes by you, just to see what might happen. No sound is produced. You’re not sure what you expected. The bell is clearly trash. Someone apparently decided to toss a broken hunk of junk on a random town monument, and you were gullible enough to think it was a clue. Your shoes are more of a clue than this piece of garbage.   Dissatisfied, you throw it in the garbage.