sup dawwggss!!! Whatch– Oh excuse me, I forgot myself. Please allow me to speak in noir.

'Sup dawwggss!!! Whatchoo up to???

Voting for Mett.

Mettaur in the lead, TFGM still second.
You all have at least two more hours to vote, It might be a little longer.

List on page one is updated.

I'm still expecting some votes… and could someone tell hark the game started?

For a noir game there are a shockingly few noir posters

Switch your vote to me and get fan art. Win or lose I'll pay up. If you have a comic I'll send readers. I want to get some votes.

HOW THE HELL IS METT WINNING?!
Bizarro logic?!

HANG ON! He voted for himself twice. I see wutz goin on.

Election is now CLOSED!
Narr coming soon people, sorry I'm late.

And how did I mistake ParkerFarker for Mettaur?
Because they're the same person…*Gasp!*

Narration day one
Townstreet, Noon, 1945.

The dumb bastard got himself killed, The coppers didn't know how he died, they didn't know what kind of weapon was used, didn't know anything. Except who killed him, and more importantly why he was killed.

As I made my way through the crowd I could already hear people announce a willingness to take my big brothers place. A man holding a big sign made a big speech, causing reactions from many in the crowd. Women hid their babies and men started looking over their shoulders, resisting the urge to hide their backs from their friends… The man holding the sign caused quite a public unrest.

Soon others joined in, announcing reasons why they should become the new mayor, none of them expressing even the slightest hint of human feeling, none of them showing any sign of grief for the death of their mayor, none of them acting the way they did before the eternal rain started falling down.
Before the feeling of black and white invaded their hearts.

One of the pigs in blue tried to stop me from entering the mayor's office, telling me to put out my cigarette. Carelessly I threw the cigarette to the floor, leaving a burnmark on the carpet. It's not like it matters, those idiots won't find any clues. My dear brother messed with the godfather, he messed with the Don, he messed with the Firefly. And the firefly never leaves any evidence behind.
At least not enough for the cops to find.

Outside I could still hear the mob, all claiming to be the best man for the job. All claiming to be able to lift the veil of darkness that came with the eternal warm rain. Some promised more art, some promised to decrease traffic tickets, and some didn't say anything at all. Suddenly the crowd went silent, I couldn't see why from inside. And quite frankly I couldn't care less.

My brother stared at me as I entered the room, hanging from his mouth I could see his damn pipe. It was a gift from our father. Me and my brother both followed our fathers path, I became a detective, took over the business. My brother became an abusive husband, beating his wife to a pulp after every drink. As I looked upon the red crusts of blood sprayed over big brothers desk the chief of police started talking to me, Zachary Mettowsky.
'So, what do we have here?' He asked as he offered me a cigarette.

'Well…' I said as I lit my cigarette. 'He's dead alright.'

'That much we knew.' The scrawny cop said. 'But how? That's all we need you for. We already know who did it, and we'll never catch him.'

'Poison, and lots of it. Check the chair.' I pointed at the chair, which was drenched in blood.

'His guts turned to pulp?' Mettowsky said, trying to hide a smile. He never did like me much.

'Yes, my BROTHER's bowels turned to pulp.' I responded, trying to make it clear to the old scrawny bastard that he talked too much. The damn pig repulsed me.
Before Mett could respond a cop came barging in, bringing the deputy mayor with him. An irish man, proud of his heritage. I believe his name was Mon K Green. A strong man, but he was not one of the sharpest tools in the shed. As Mon looked upon the dead man in the chair of his former boss he almost dumped his breakfast on top of my cigarette mark.
With a faint voice the deputy mayor said:

'The people demand a mayor.'

I looked upon the remains of my brother, a slight hint of nostalgia filled my head.

'Violence is gonna return to Townstreet. You need a strong mayor, someone able to withstand it better than my brother did.' I said.

Mon looked at himself, knowing he woulndn't be able to do it alone.

'Take Mettowsky, he's been living here for ages, never was a good cop. But he'll survive longer than you.'

As I walked out of the office, leaving a baffled deputy mayor, a dumbass cop and a dead brother, I knew I had to take on the Firefly Mafia alone, these sorry excuses wouldn't last longer than a day.

And I knew where to go first.

Mettaur is the new Mayor, TheFlyingGreenMonkey is the new pardoner!

DAY ONE HAS ENDED.
NIGHT ONE HAS BEGUN.

There are NO clues in day narrations, nothing mentioned in this narration points to any role or anyone. All references are just to make it all more interesting to write and hopefully to read.

Looks like Mett am mayor.

Sheesh. These morning cycle ends are throwing me off.

Instalynch declared!

Narr coming soon.

Am highly disappointed at the lack of votes compared with number of players.

So long guys. With no permanent protection I'm good as dead.

P.S. Mayors who instalynch tend to be mobsters.

…just saying.

Kroatz
Instalynch declared!

Good bye cruel world.

Townstreet, 10 in the evening, 1945.

As I walk out of the building I hear Mettowsky shouting to Mon, I don't care. I need a drink. Walking through the crowds calms me, but still not enough. The only thing capable of silencing the thoughts in my head is a decent amount of whisky, and I don't believe there is enough of golden liquid at Jay's.
Jay's has always been my kind of bar, all the mayor players on both sides of the law go there. The little ones know to stay away, they know that nothing discussed at Jay's is for their ears to know.

As I walk in I see Jay laughing that stupid laugh of his, he probably already knows everything about the deaths of today. Jay has been a happy fellow for years, he always has my drink ready even before I come in.
Most of the customers feel that I don't belong at Jay's. They don't trust me one bit. But tonight none of that matters, tonight I'm drinking to my brother.

After my sixth whisky I don't even notice people anymore, until Jay calls out to me.
'They're killing him!' He cried out to me. 'They're killing Einar!'
Before I even ask who the hell Einar is I see him.
A bloody corpse being dragged behind a car, leaving a trail of red down Townstreet.
'This is how Mettowsky starts his reign?' Jay asks me, tears running down his face. 'This is how he plans to keep the mob down?!'

All I could do was watch.

Product Placement the paramedic has been lynched

What… the…
Seriously?!
He lynched Ein- PP?

The car was not my doing, but the reason for lynching Einar is that a source of mine told me that he was planning to betray the town. Obviously this source was wrong, and will have to be put down. It is a sad loss, if he had sent me his role I would not have believed the informant…everyone send me their roles, so a mistake like this doesn't happen again.

Dont remember you asking for roles.

I'm pretty sure Mettaur said that he would pay each person $20 if they told him their role…

Okay.

I'm a GM

Where's my moolah?

For accepting bribes, we shall all lynch Kroatz!

Heres my roll.

Product Placement
Pretty good actually, since I'm now reminded of crocty, who became mafia at least 3 times in a row.

It's a shame he isn't playing! When I'm innocent, he's guilty by default, and it's nice to start out knowing something. It's depressing to look at an empty chart.

Kroatz
Instalynch declared!

Ah, unsettling. o_o;;

EDIT: Instalynches are usually wrong, but god, why couldn't it have just been a normal townie if it had to be someone innocent? >_<

same
Heres my roll.

And MY AXE!


*cries* Poor Einar! WHY?

jninjashadow

same
Heres my roll.

And MY AXE!


*cries* Poor Einar! WHY?

GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!

As I watched the body of that foreign doctor being driven away to who knows where, I began to doubt whether I had placed my trust wisely. The new mayor claims innocence, tries to put the blame on someone else, but should I buy it? Or should I learn not to mix tenses in the same paragraph? Either way, this is one hell of a hard decision.

P.S. I feel like I'm the only one roleplaying… XD

I demand to be lynched. because… I don't have a valid reason..

All I could do was shake my head. This mayor is crazy. He kills a man on mere whim. I decided the best thing to do was keep my head down and blend in with the mob. After all, he who burns brightest, burns shortest.

dang, Maybe PP should have the title “the Human target” ?

PP is more for “Please Punch” it seems… Maybe he needs a tank.

I can win the game as long as I'm protected. That's why I keep going down. Since everyone's always paranoid about me being in the opposing team, I end up becoming priority target.

I can't say anything now since I'm dead so I leave it at that. Just remember though that everything I stated prior to my death may be important to check out.