1. You can not run a game twice in a row.
2. In order to be a GM, you must have actively played in at least two previous mafia game.
3. The times must be posted in Greenwich Mean Time. You must also adhere to the schedule that you put up. If you can't follow it, don't do it. And give forewarning if the narrative will be early/late.
4. If you change a role drastically, you should rename that role to avoid confusion. (If we are going back to basics, it won't be a problem.)
5. You put a sample narrative up on your sign up sheet so that people will know early on what to expect from your clues.
Recommended: You tell the mafia to submit their name to you. (Really highly recommended, I have a long list of sissy names for them now.)
1. The elections are probably be run by the previous GM
2. There will be a few days for sign ups. In your sign up you state why you think you would be a good GM and a basic outline of what you intend to do.
3. There will be a couple of days of voting. The votes will be PQed to the election head and will be anonymous.
4. The elected GM will have a day or so to make sign ups. If they do not make them in a reasonable time, the runner up is the next GM and so on and so on.
If you want to be a GM please post why you think you will be a good GM here along with the sample narrative. In the sample narrative, write about you (GM) killing me (Niccea).
Hmmm…I say we end sign ups on Thursday and finish the voting on Saturday. Both will end at 2 AM GMT or 10 PM EST (hope I got the times correct. You can check me you want.)
Niccea was feeling relaxed. It was nice to go out and have a quiet walk during peace-time, especially with a bodyguard of 17 heavily-armed mercenaries and a pair of servants to carry you, so walk was a subjective term, but she didnâ€™t care. She was so focused on her internal monologue that she didnâ€™t notice when one her bodyguards fell over, apparently choking to death, she did notice however when some other bodyguards started yelling about their fallen comrade and interrupted her.
â€œHEY!â€ she yelled enraged â€œwhat are you norse yelling abo…â€ and then the smell hit her. Her distance from the point man ,a burly yet intelligent fellow, saved her from the worst of the smell but what she did scent caused her to yell out in surprise an disgust and then cover her nose. The smell was like boiled cabbage, only several hundred times stronger. She had barely begun to fathom what was happening when a shape, like a man with a sign around his neck only so hunched over it could be anything, leaped off a nearby roof into the middle of the formation causing the smell to intensify a thousand-fold and every single mercenary to black-out in perfect synchrony with each other and her servants to stagger before fainting, pitching her off her litter onto the cold, uncaring cobbles.
â€œwha?â€ she plaintively mewled whilst attempting to rise and resisting the urge to blackout, knowing it would be the last thing she did, when the shape pitched itself forwards and knocked her to the ground with what felt limp and furry, gashing her scalp upon the road surface, and clamped an oxygen mask over her mouth.
â€œ no hard feelingsâ€ the shape chattered conversationally as she gratefully gulped down lungfuls of clean, stench free air and attempted to blink through the crust of blood that was rapidly forming over her eyes.
â€œbut Iâ€™d rather not go unnoticed if you know what I meanâ€. And with those final words echoing along the street the shape pulled a heavy looking handgun from its pocket and pumped shot after shot into her prone form, pulping it beyond all human recognition, only stopping when the weapon clicked empty.
â€œIâ€™d like a quarter if you want me to continueâ€ the shape stated flatly as it started down the road â€œoh wait you canâ€™t pay me, youâ€™re dead, oh wellâ€.
And that is how the corpse that was probably Niccea the townie was murdered, thank you and good night.
The darkness fell over Townston, no one suspected anything. Across town, most people were sleeping but not Niccea. She couldn't sleep. She knew something was wrong but she coulnd't figure out what it was. Maybe it was the smell of the fresh slaughtered carcasses or maybe it was . So she decided, like most good townies, to take a good long walk. She hadn't walked far untill she met someone.
“Can't sleep either?” she asked the figure.
“Not really…” the figure said, “I forgot my daily mincing…”
“ Ah me too,” Niccea said. “I have to return a paper, make a new page for the mafia comic…UGH” was the last thing Niccea said before the figure stab her. Niccea the townie had been partially dismembered tonight.
Niccea was sitting in her room, typing with all her might a term paper which was due the following day. Fifteen pages in and everything was coming together well, which was why when the lights and subsequently her computer went out, she flew into a violent rage, cursing everyone from the professor to the cashier at the power company's front desk. When she finally stopped to take a moment to compose herself, she was amazed by the otherwise total silence. The only sound was the gentle hum from the street light outdoors which illuminated her room through the one un-curtained window. Standing up to head for the circuit breaker, she noticed a barely visible silhouette in the doorway. Before she could think to panic, the searing pain of three gunshots tore through her body and she slumped against her chair, unable to move and bleeding profusely. Her assassin stepped forward so that his face was half visible in the light and smirked.
“Twenty points,” he said casually, before re-aiming his gun.
“You!” Niccea gasped, as a growing paralysis spread through her body.
“Say goodnight,” he added, squeezing off one last round and puncturing her head, before turning and slipping into the night from whence he came.
One of the townies happened to walk into a dark alley. Why he did that, the world may never know. There was a strange man lurking in the shadows.
“Who are you? Are you me?” shouted the strange man to himself.
“You're freaking me out!” said the frightened townie.
“Shh… do you hear that,” asked the strange man. “It's the trees in the forest. They want me to kill you!”
“I just want to go home.” sobbed the confused townie.
“Oh don't worry… home is where the rock is!” screeched the strange man.
The man picked up a rock from the alley and chucked it at the townie. The rock flung right into the townies eye and exited through the back of his head. Blood and brain matter was splattering into the air.
“My brains! My brains,” screamed the townie choking on his own gobs.
The townie's head exploded from the sheer pressure of blood built up in the base of his neck.
Niccea the townie has been killed.