The Mafia Discussion Thread

[EWB's Best Poster.]

People seem into your latest game Zan, dont sell yourself short.

[Guest Mr. Potato Head]

Ah, I remember when I used to have good ideas.

Good times.

Everyone once in a while, the universe encounters something that leaves itself with no other option but to collapse upon itself, rather than attempt to sort out the sheer logical implausibility of a single being occupying two different locations at the exact same time. Some call this the Matrix effect. Others consider it to be a sign from heaven proclaiming of his divine’s second coming to Earth, while others simply declare it a sign of the apocalypse. Regardless of one’s scientific or religious background however, it would be impossible to deny the fact that had the Diary Cube been a place that embraced conventional scientific laws, the world simply would have ceased to exist this very day.

Unpleasantries aside, today was in fact, a rather pleasant day. It was a bright and sunny day, the kind that would have kids embark on a mad crusade for the playground, where they would fling themselves at the various brightly coloured structures until they lacked the energy to move on – which, considering that they were kids, would require a considerable amount of effort. It was the kind of day that would empower birds to sing their songs as they made love in the sky, a prelude to the romance experienced by young couples as they would waltz around town square, before breaking into a musical entrée worthy of a Walt Disney cartoon. It was the kind of day, that made old, grumpy scrooges feel especially old and grumpy, until the inevitable time where some poor beggar and the ghosts of Christmas past would take him away on a spiritual journey of moral reawakening. It was the kind of day, that loosely connected crews of underdogs would triumph over the dictatorship of the rich and powerful, the kind of day that screamed for picnics in the countryside. It was the kind of day, that in essence, made you feel nice.

Unfortunately, the events that were to precede such a fine, pleasant, and wonderful day, where going to be anything but nice. Sure, it could have been argued that such an occurrence, having been preceded by the death of PkmnTrainerJ, would have prepped the inhabitants of the Diary Domain for the great shock and tragedy that awaited them, but at the same time, it could be argued that PkmnTrainerJ wasn’t exactly the most well known of the Diary Cube, and his loss, while most ultimately sad and tragic, especially to those he was slated to do a split diary with, and of course, to his family and loved ones, was simply not enough to spoil the wonders and beauty of the present time. And so, caught in their ignorance bliss, the members of the Diary Domain could only find themselves shocked, not to mention stunned beyond all manner of surprise when such a pleasant day, with immensely wonderful build up, was going to be shattered in the way only tragedies can truly present themselves.

And shattered some people would be, for in the case of Ace, who was enjoying the pure, fresh breeze on top what one might typically identify as a Polar Bear, a warm blooded artic mammal, typically found in the polar regions and mysterious islands occupied by plan crash survivors, for within moments of commenting on the great fun it is to be riding on top a stampeding Polar Bear, he found himself trapped in the brief line between strange and sheer absurdity, for when he hears the sounds of GLASS SHATTERING, he only has the time to check that it wasn’t the Polar Bear stepping on top of a car by accident, and time to register said fact and breath a sigh of relief that he would be spared from any potential lawsuits, when all off a sudden its STONE COLD STEVE AUSTIN running out towards him and it’s STUNNER! STUNNER! STUNNER TO THE POLAR BEAR! BAH GAWD I’VE NEVER SEEN SUCH A THING IN MY LIFE! And Ace merely sits there, dumbfounded, as STONE COLD STEVE AUSTINS WHIPS THE POLAR BEAR ABOUT LIKE A GOVERNMENT MULE, until there’s nothing left of the creature by a giant white carcass, as STONE COLD STEVE AUSTIN finally makes it out of the compound. Meanwhile, Ace, having lost his precious friend, is far too confused to say anything, and though while the Diary Domain extends its condolences to the loss of a magnificent beast, one cannot deny the fact that it is only Ace after all, and as such, said event could hardly count as a tragedy.

Indeed, for this tragedy would be one beyond measure, for it would be a tragedy for not just the inhabitants of the Diary Domain, who would no doubt suffer the effects of today’s events for years to come, if not, to the very end of their existence, but would probably drag down even those of less physical being, including but not limited to the narrator of this very tale, who must forcibly admit that as a narrator, he must stress this is all in the name of fun and bears no ill will upon any of those mention in said event, in a move that would no doubt blur the lines between fiction and reality, moderator and player, kayfabe and the internet, plus not to mention the very fine line between talent and mosvie king. Yes, my dear ladies and gentlemen, this was in essence, an event that would shatter the very foundation of the Diary Domain.

But every story must have a beginning, and so we find ourselves here, by the ruins of the Polar Bear, as members of the Diary Domain dance by, a lovely leap in their step as they dance across the concrete pavement, occasionally pausing to accuse each other of foul murder, but it’s all a sham, for the great wave of pacifism that has possessed the Diary Domain is simply undeniable, and even though malicious thoughts may creep into the mind of a select few, the stench of daisies, puppies and care bears are far too overwhelming, instantly quashing whatever dirty, dirty, dirty motives those in the business of doing harm can possibly think of. But fortunately, the day can be, and WILL be saved, with the appearance of a hero, though whose intentions are noble and pure to the highest degree, the epitome of the classic knight in shining armour only in a modern locale, would only end up dooming the Diary Domain forever in an action that as previously mentioned, threatened to end to known universe as it is.

For it begins not with an act of spite, or envy, or gluttony, or pride, or lust, or greed or sloth, but simple courtesy, and answering of a question that might otherwise have gone unanswered in this dark times of deceit, deception and murder, and god knows whatever miserable devices of sin that have engulfed this fateful island. It begins not with action, but of a thought, vocalized through the medium of speech, into one focused word, and single name:

Lorina.

And with that one word, that one name, the fate of the world is sealed, for out of the shadows leaps a man, a myth, a legend of the Diary Cube, who’s travelled the Wild West, the treacherous islands of Scotland and the even more treacherous island of Costa Rica, but who else, then Norris Scott.

And now we say it again, the man who will forever be remembered as the guy who almost damned the universe to oblivion:

Norris Scott.

But what is so strange, of a man searching for his lover? Surely it is not but the crux of every romance, and essential to every tale of romantic swashbuckling ever spun? And not just the tales of Dan Brown, but of literary greats, of Shakespeare William, of Thomas Hardy, of D.H. Lawrence, of Dante, of Homer, and even in the east, of Haruki Murakami, of Koushun mother fucking Takami – yes, it is a respected tale, told many times over, and most certainly not one of bloodshed, violence, tragedy, and wanton destruction.

So why then, how then, could this single man, cause the greatest catastrophe known to man?

For Norris Scott seeks his lover in the arms of The Mask of Norbert, who as we all know, probably is the same person.

And as such, the universe assplodes.

---

Ace’s Polar Bear, Artic Mammal, is dead.

Norris Scott has joined The Mask of Norbert’s Entourage. He may not use any abilities until Norris Scott has left.

At the time we thought that game was a ridiculous clusterfuck too. In retrospect it was downright tame.

[Ruki]

Re-reading Arkham Mafia....I really like the 'buying items' game mechanic.

Didn't Zan run another game with something similar? Has anyone else done it?

[R.W.]

I'd happily run another roles contest if there's interest in it.

[R.W.]

Also, I'm toying with the idea of a Mafia HOF, just in time for Mania, since the annual awards don't work that well.

[fr34k]

And here I was hoping for a 'Best Newcomer' award or something. Although I only played two games so far .

[Ruki]

I'd happily run another roles contest if there's interest in it.

Also, I'm toying with the idea of a Mafia HOF, just in time for Mania, since the annual awards don't work that well.

I like both of these.

[Pesci]

Also, I'm toying with the idea of a Mafia HOF, just in time for Mania, since the annual awards don't work that well.

They worked out fine... for me

Also, I'd be up for being a judge in the roles thing again. This time I'll remember to vote for the final!

[Gazz]

NXT

[Pesci]

What was the game where that guy saw the other guy's role PM when he was round his house and said so in the thread?

[Ace]

Transformers

Melkon and Rashad.

Edited February 7, 2011 by Ace™

[Gongsun Zan]

Honestly, I think Inquisition is probably the best game I've designed. The one I'm least proud of would be Arkham.

[Guest Mr. Potato Head]

I for one think MPH should always be lynched because MPH is always scum.

[EWB's Best Poster.]

Hey worked for me so far.

[Sousa]

Inquisition was a fantastic game. I'm still jealous of how good that was and how smoothly it went.

[Ruki]

Honestly, I think Inquisition is probably the best game I've designed. The one I'm least proud of would be Arkham.

Right, this was the other game of yours I wanted to look at for inspiration.

[Pizza]

That was the first time I was ever mafia. I told everyone I was mafia and didn't get lynched. It was fun.

[R.W.]

I think we should also remember it as the scene of Blaze's greatest glory.

[Maxx]

I PM'd RW about making 12-15 usernames that are just "Player 1, Player 2, Player 3," etc, so we can do anonymous mafia and rid games of that awful "Oh hey he did this in another game, so he's scum here" defense.

But RW never got back to me, so I assume he hates the idea.

Or me.

Or both

[Guest Mr. Potato Head]

It's a novel idea but I like the added dimension of recurring scum tells, personally.