Mafia: It's Like Werewolf But Better

Mafia: It's Like Werewolf But Better is a game of Mafia, hosted in The Spectrum by Mushy Pea. It was the first Mafia/ Werewolf game played in The Spectrum that used the Mafia theme, as the previous four games in the region used that of Werewolf. The game commenced on 16th April and on 25th April was won by the Good Guys team (Not to be confused with The Good Guys).

Players

1. Dhatsun
2. Daveanoyl Chloride
3. Buttery Boonswoggles
4. Calumnius
5. Oldham Road
6. Sherylannia
7. White-Rose
8. Nintenduu 64
9. Don Flanioso
10. Domas-Porada
11. Adoggo

Rules

Courtesy of White-Rose
Rules were pretty much standard. Day and night lasted for one realtime day each to give players chance to use night abilities if they have them. WEEKEND WAS CLASSED AS ONE DAY.

In order to vote, clearly state who you are voting using the 'Vote: [name]' format. When votes were cas players would either inform Mushy Pea either in person or by telegram so the vote was counted rather than being pushed off the messages lists. Change of vote was easy, it could be carried out as many times as a player liked, as long as the last vote was unvoted first, by saying 'Unvote: [name]'.

Plot

PROLOGUE

The moonlight reflected off the softly undulating tide, causing all shadows to flicker and shake as if they were nervous. Two figures, with a third suspended between them, lumbered their way along the pier until they came to their grimy destination: the enormous container full of the fish that had spoiled that day before they made it back to shore. Tomorrow, it would either be dumped into the ocean for the sharks or it would be used as bait, whichever came first. Either way, it was what they wanted. two of them were there because of a job. Not a particularly hard job; in fact it was insultingly easy, which was part of the reason why one was in such a sore mood that night. The other was there because the Don had told him he would be at the pier one way or another, and he took that to mean the worst, which it probably did. Life was hard in the mafia. It got fun with the occasional whoopee cushion on the Don’s chair at dinner, but it wasn’t fun for long, especially if said dinner required a steak knife.
They looked at the container and grabbed their payload at each end hurling it into the stink pit, sending a pungent and extremely disgusting volley of squid towards them upon impact.
“I’ll get tha car, you clean this up.”
“Well, why me?”
“’Cuz I said so.”
“Well I ain’t doin’ it.”
“You wanna die?”
“No.”
“Then do it.”
“Shut up, I ain’t doin’ it.”
“Well it’s gotta get done. The workers know that the seagulls don’t eat 50 pounds of squid all at once.”
“Well, I ain’t doin’ it.”
“Why?”
“’Cuz”
“’Cuz why?”
“’Cuz I don’t like squid, a’ight.”
“…”
“What? I don’t.”
“You’d better be f*ckin’ jokin’ me. TELL ME ya f*ckin’ jokin’ me.”
“No…They’re all slimy n’ smelly n’ they f*ckin’ ink all over the place, an’ Ma jus’ got me a new suit wit summa tha casino money, an I don’ wanna piss ‘er off, a’ight?”
“Then why’d you agree ta work tha stiff?”
“I made you take tha messy end. Plus, they got that beak.”
“…”
“No, seriously, they got that hard little beak that they bite on stuff wit. That’s a f*ckin’ nightmare right there. What if one o’ thems is still alive?”
“Do they f*ckin’ smell alive to you?”
“What if one bites me?”
“Then I’ll kiss it and make it all f*ckin’ betta.”
“Whateva’, I still ain’t pickin’ up no squid.”
“No squid, then? Fine…”
He drew his pistol, a .45 his father had gotten him for his birthday when he was 14, and made a few of the squid about as dead as anything can get.
“There. Now it’s soup. Pick it up.”
“That’s f*ckin’ gross.”
“Look in tha mirra, momma’s boy.”
“Just because my Ma loves me betta than yours is no reason fa you ta bully me aroun’”
“She don’ love you, she just thinks yous is too much uva igormus ta know ya head from ya arse without her help.”
“That’s ignoramus.”
“Why thank you, Dr. Princeton-F*cking-Dipsh*t! Next time ya feel like gracin’ me wit your amazin’ smarts, why don’ ya gimme fair warning so I at least know when to get down on my knees, wilyeh?
“Eh, f*ck you!”
“You would, pansy!”
There was a tense moment of silence during which nothing happened. Then, after a few seconds, nothing continued to happen. Minutes passed as the two did their best to avoid each other’s eyes until…
“Look, maybe you could jus’ kick tha squid inta tha wata, and th…”
“What was that?”
“I said maybe ya could jus’…”
“I’m sorry, my hearin’ must be bad tonight. Speak up.”
“Look, jus’ kick tha squid inta tha wata and we’ll be done wit it.”
“Oh, do my ears deceive me, or did you jus’ cut me sum slack?”
“Oh, yeah, do that then. F*ckin’ rub it in. Real nice.”
“A’ight, a’ight, but I won’ fuhget this.”
“You will if I tells ya to.”
He shoved his hands into his pockets and began gingerly nudging all the squid into the water one by one with his toe. While the other turned the corner, slid into the driver’s seat of his ’72 Cadillac, discovered it wouldn’t start, swore at it until it did and drove around to meet his partner.
“Hey, who was that stiff anyways?”
“Him? That was Jimmy Salieri.”
“You sure?”
There was a pause.
“Y…e…a…h… why?”
“I dunno, it didn’ really look like ‘im. Looked familiar, but not like ‘im.”
“Well, maybe he dyed ‘is hair or sumthin. He was hidin’ from the Don.”
“Maybe. Come ta think of it, I don’ think Jimmy lives in a house. ‘e lives in a ‘partment in Queens, righ’?”
“Huh.”
“Hey, you know who that stiff reminds me of…the Don’s ol’ friend, Joe Carducci.”
“Oh, yeah, Uncle Joe. Heh.”
Silence.

“Oh sh*t,”

DAY 1 BEGINS.
DAY 1 WILL END 8PM TUESDAY
Joe Carducci [Whitmorium] sleeps with the fishes

Day One

I stared into his fiery gaze, his scarred facial features showing nothing but rage. His fists were still clenched, my blood trickling down his knuckles. His stance was square, he was a much larger man than I had first thought, and now he was squaring off with me, ready for a fight. He growled like a beast at me, frustrated, unable to move at barrel’s end. I aimed the gun directly at his head and stared him straight in those fiery eyes. My eyebrow line was bleeding from the punch I’d received, but through the blood and bruising, he could still see that I was prepared to kill him.

I had two options: drop the gun and allow this man to do what he wishes, or pull the trigger, send a bullet through his head and kill him. Neither option was something that I wanted to do myself. The air got thin as I tried to get a grasp on the situation. I could feel the blood pumping through every inch of my body as a cold sweat began to break out on my forehead. My hand gripped the handle of the weapon so tightly that it began to tremble. I continued to stare into my attackers fierce gaze, however after remembering 'their' words “Nintenduu 64” in my mind, he could tell that the anger which had overtaken my body after his punch, was being replaced by fear, confusion and doubt.

Realizing that I was hesitant he began to take small baby steps towards me. I stiffened my arm to try and drive him back but it was no use, he continued to step toward me and square off. We were at a standstill, and unless I mustered up the courage to pull the trigger and end this man’s life, he would reach me. Little by little he was getting close and I was running out of time. My hand trembled more and more as I waited, thinking it over. He stared into my eyes, fury firing from his gaze to mine. This was it; he was planning to lunge for the gun.

My heart was beating in the back of my throat. I aimed the gun steadily at his head, ready to kill him as that was the decision I had to make… He took another step forward. My arm stiffened even more as he took another step, fury in his face, blood still trickling from his knuckles. The realization hit me, he was not squaring off in order to disarm me, but rather to kill me… knock the gun away and drive me to the ground. He wanted to use his size to overpower me and kill me with his bare hands. One punch did this, I couldn’t imagine the stinging pain that would come from more. The rest of my body joined my hand in trembling as I took a small step backwards, my heal hit the wall behind me and I let out a small gulp. I knew now that there would be no escape. One of us was going to die here. “Kill or be killed” I thought to myself, “Kill or be killed.”

He was too close now. I had to decide, what to do. Do I pull the trigger and end another man’s life? Or do I allow the 'others' to be the death of me? He let out a loud grunt as he took his final step forward. He was mere inches away from the barrel of the gun. I couldn’t think any longer. I had to decide. Suddenly before I could think, my attacker pivoted on his feet and lunged forward. I closed my eyes and felt his large hand grab my wrist. I lost control of my body as all my fear, all my anger, all my doubt flowed through my body, up my arm, and down to my trigger finger. I heard one loud bang…followed by silence.
No pain, just silence.

DAY ONE SUMMARY -
Underboss Bernardo Provenzano [NINTENDUU 64] is executed by majority vote.
Alignment: Bad Guy - Back Stabbing Mafia Family Member

NIGHT 1 BEGINS
NIGHT 1 ENDS 8PM WEDNESDAY

Night One

Of all the scantily clad lovelies in the room, Deirdre was the one that caught his attention, fast and hard like a punch in the jaw. His favourite kind of woman.

“Interested in spending a little time?” he asked.

The eagerness shone from her foul eyes.
“Interested in spending a little?” she countered, leaning in just enough for him to catch the smell of her strong perfume, the baby powder deodorant and the cinnamon breath mints.

“A little what, doll face?” he replied, and Deirdre giggled.
It wasn’t a seductive chuckle filled with erotic little promises. It was the kind of thing emitted while watching cartoons. “Come on, kid. Half an hour, if you’ve got it.”

“Honey,” she said, dragging a fingernail against her collar, low enough for him to know she hadn’t bothered with a bra, “I’ve got it. Believe me when I tell you, I’ve got it.”

And so they left the pulse of seedy beats behind and spilled onto the concrete, her boots creating a frantic tattoo, his loafers a soft shuffle. She was a bundle of nerves in leather pants. A schoolgirl playing at call girl.

“How far’s this apartment of yours?” he demanded, as the sound of music and drunk laughter began to fade.

She smiled. They were reaching the part of town where everyone was snug asleep in their beds, or curled up in front of the TV, or absorbed in a book. Huddled around something that would keep the night and its inhabitants far, far away. He looked at her and smiled back.

“What’s so funny?”
“Just circumstances, that’s all.”

They slipped quietly off the beaten path and to the side of someone’s house. She continued to lead until her steps stopped abruptly,

“End of the line”

Jolts shot through his spine in quick succession, he lost his footing and fell face first onto the concrete earth. He couldn’t get up even if he tried.

“Looks like I got the sleeze ball you were telling me about th…”
The words trailed off and all that he could make out was the glinting badge saying ‘NYPD’
A figure in the shadows was watching closely at the proceedings, waiting, his goal was taken from him and now he must wait…

“DAY ONE – 5:58pm
I’m almost done. So close. Only one more. After all this time, all these sacrifices, all this pain. Only one more. One more Rose. I can’t stand to look at them for long. It brings tears to my eyes. So beautiful. So pretty. And I only need one more. One more and I will be done.
All done.
Done.
My basement keeps them cool and fresh. But I don’t have much time. Tonight, I must succeed. I must have my last, final Rose. And then I will be complete. No more worrying, no more sleepless nights, no more pain. I can’t look at them for long. So beautiful. I go upstairs again, leave my roses to rest. They are pretty. So pretty.
I sleep. And I dream. I dream of my Seven pretty Roses. They’re mine, and mine alone. Untouched. Unsoiled. Innocent. Forever mine.
NIGHT ONE – 10:53pm
I wake and I cry. My dreams taunt me, again. But I’m so close. Only one more. One last Rose. I go down to the basement. My roses. So pretty. I caress them. I whisper to them like a forgotten lover. So beautiful.
I leave them again. It’s time to end this. Its time to find my last Rose. I walk outside. It’s raining. I walk and walk. Searching for my Rose. And I succeed. In a dark alley, I walk closer. Closer to my Rose. He smiles. He doesn’t see the gun in my hand.”

NIGHT ONE SUMMARY –
Advisor Antonino Giuffrè [Don Flanioso] was electrocuted
Role: Seer

Constable Dibble [Sherylannia] was found dead in an alleyway, heart missing, diary entry found with scribbles of thoughts on it left next to the body.
Role: Policeman

DAY TWO BEGINS
DAY TWO VOTING ENDS 8pm THURSDAY

Day Two

Today he walked outside under the watch of sunlight, a cool calm breeze against his skin, his shoes brushing the cracked cement, a rhythm like the beat of his heart - his pulse a signal that he is still alive, the blood still moving through his veins, the air and smoke in his lungs – exhale.

The world was so still – silence. Alone with his thoughts, which were wandering off with the wind, past the sky to spin around space, something to remember himself by - like the graffiti on garage doors. He walked by in the alleyways of their exclamations, like writing on cave walls, a marking, like the way we write something down in case we forget our thoughts ourselves.

Suddenly
The trigger of a gun rests and the air is finally clear, free of thought.
The trigger was pulled...but it was not him that the bullet went through...
Tell me,
Does that mean he is bullet proof?

DAY TWO SUMMARY -
Dhatsun is shot but his protective vest takes the blast

NIGHT TWO BEGINS
NIGHT TWO ENDS FRIDAY 7PM…
I won’t be in at 8pm you see…

Night Two

There was a confused melee of distorted images whirling around in my head as I stumbled down the street, too preoccupied with the recent memories of the party to take care in the placement of my feet. The enthused shouts and the melodious sound of laughter soon began to fade away as I slowly made my way down the street, my shoes slapping rhythmically against the wet pavement beneath my feet. My hair had begun to cling irritatingly to the side of my face, as the slowly falling drizzling rain had seeped through into every strand, my once smoothly flowing brown hued curls now adhering together in stringy clumps. I flicked a few strands out of my vision and continued, a broad grin still spread across my face.

The cold rain was beginning to slowly soak into my thin clothes…but that barely mattered, I was still on an emotional high from being around my friends for the first time in a long while. My head was still a little woozy from the alcohol, but for now it was blocking out the sensations of the searing cold and the bitterly icy wind which had begun to pick up. The sky was dull…as always at this time of year, the deep navy blues smeared by dark, ominous looking clouds, which were clearly promising more than just a light mist.

My heart almost stopped, and I promptly slumped against a lamppost, desperately pulling at my sleeve to unveil my watch. I squinted, trying my best to focus on the steadily moving hands. 10:55. I still had plenty of time…I forced my eyes to blink a few times, trying to clear my vision. I allowed more of my weight to rest against the lamppost, heaving a sigh and tilting my head backward. The cold metal pole pressed into my back, as I looked up towards the flicking orange light high above, haloed by the rain which was gradually beginning to increase in its intensity. For the first time, I shivered, the cold finally beginning to get its purchase on my body, and in response I wrapped my arms around myself, huddling up.

It was a rumble of thunder in the distance that finally brought me back to a full state of consciousness. Frantically, my gaze flickered back down to my watch. 11:05. I knew I couldn’t afford to waste any more time. My legs didn’t seem to want to function for a while. But eventually I managed to coax them into a relatively brisk rhythm, taking me down the gently sloping street, down which rainwater had begun to stream.

“Just my luck…” I muttered darkly, “Him”

For some reason that evaded me for the moment, I knew I was in trouble. There was not another soul in sight, not even the lights in the window of a house…I was pretty certain by now that I wasn’t about to hear a car steadily trundling down the road any time soon. The scratch of tumbleweed on tarmac seemed the more likely to occur.

Whilst I stood there, pondering my limited options, the weather took a turn for the worse. The clouds fulfilled their promise and allowed the heavens to open, thunder growling its warning of lightning as rain poured down in driving sheets, lashing against my skin painfully. I was left at the mercy of the elements, and him.

His hold on the gun tightened. Knuckles whitening, anger rising within his eyes. His tuxedo stood against his harsh frame as his shadow stood on the wall. It was him, ‘their’ leader and he’s finally come for me.

His eyes were clearly expressing the rush he was receiving. The kick you get when pointing a gun between someone's eyes. The power to control their actions, to inject them with fear…

I look past the gun, and into his eyes...
“This will do”, I say to myself…and slide off my feet onto my knees. I see his eyes change to puzzlement as I press my forehead against the cold steel barrel. This was the last thing he was expecting…I look down and put my hands around the gun, pressing my thumbs on his finger which I now notice, isn't even touching the trigger…
One last moment of eye contact confirms my thoughts. His eyes are now filled with shock...suddenly…he fears ME.

I press my hands together and feel him startle...
This is it...
The entire world fades into black. My thoughts - crystal clear. The click of the gun cocking, it's hammer getting ready to seal my fate. Slam. The sound of steel hitting steel, the soft sound of ignition. Time suddenly drops to a crawl and everything turns to gray, this is eternity.
I can see the flames slowly moving outwards, the bullet traveling ever so slowly through the barrel...whispering its song of death to me...It's ariving
My pupils dilate to their max…the angel pierces my skull and makes its way through my brain…Distorting processes.. the...the things I can see now…everything.

“He swore to protect our lives,
Yet he lost his own.

He promised to protect the people,
But was brought down by a stray shot.

He pledged to save the innocent,
Yet he couldn't save himself.

He vowed to never kill,
But he was killed instead.

He asked not for whom the bell tolled.
Yet now it tolls for him.”

NIGHT TWO SUMMARY -
Detective Nash (DHATSUN) is shot by a mafia family member.
Role: One man team

Man of Honor Salvatore Riina (DOMAS PORADA) is electrocuted, although this is not said in the plot, sorry haha just a little…poem, would you call it, for him instead…
Role: Protector

Day Three

The sharp scent of aging spaghetti touched my senses as I passed by the back of Roberto’s. While I was passing through the dark ally, I saw men come out of the old restaurant carrying out trash and old food. Rats were all around the moist, muddy street; but I kept going. I had to reach the patch of light, The Don was there. A black cat jumped out from behind a wooden crate. He reached the middle of the alley and time seemed to stop. The cat slowly looked at me and its bright yellow eyes flashed at me. The fur on his back stood up straight and his mouth seemed to form a slight smile. He looked back foreword and time went back to normal. A high pitched noise pierced the quiet night and the cat jumped right into the wall in front of him. I was startled as the smell of rainforest rushed through me—I closed my eyes and saw huge green trees clumped together and flashes of orange. I opened my eyes with a jolt and ran to the end of the alley, calling for The Don. He came out from his hiding place and greeted me with our same old hand shake. “Has it happened yet?” he asked.

“Not yet…”

DAY THREE SUMMARY
Nothing happened due to lack of majority

Night Three

NIGHT THREE –

Empty echoes, hollow returns, strumming impacts of vocal patterns as his words bounded off of the corridor walls, against concrete and stillness, fragmented farther down as it reached the open doors, and finally depleted, slowly simmering into nothingness, a half-hearted existence swallowed in the darkness. Gray eyes slanted slightly as the brow furrowed, and the man’s lips turned downward in a faint frown.

“Let this place go to hell,” he growled, drawing away from the opening of the corridor and absently cracking his knuckles. “Won’t even fix the damn lights...”

He turned away from the corridor and his eyes fell upon the next hallway, flickering to the branch that would lead him down yet another corridor, although somehow he had a feeling that it would not be as interesting as the one he had just turned from. The rest of the floor was mostly the same as the hallway he stood in, he was fairly certain – the carpet had been run ragged and was frayed, spotted, some of it torn away in a half-realized promise of removal, other sections rotted down to the heart of the wiry thread, exposing dust-coated glue and rusted, jagged nails turned upward from the floorboards.

He couldn’t help but smile, despite the forlorn situation around him.

As he passed into the primary hallways that connected the presently lit corridor to the abandoned pathway across from him, gaping maw of darkness inviting him into its tempting black velvet, he felt that chill run through him, chanced a glance upward; the vent, there it was, now that he understood it. His naiveté had always attributed the shivering cold wave to the presence of ghosts raking their incorporeal hands down his exposed spine, tempting him to turn around and catch them. He never did.

There was a shrieking of rust as he pushed the metal grating away and stepped into the empty, blackened corridor. His eyes momentarily drank in the darkness, his nostrils flared at the pungent aroma of shed blood, beads of sweat, mildew, urine.

The door closed again, gray-rust spatter meeting gray-dead eyes for an elongated moment. His hand withdrew from the side of the door, and his body mechanically turned toward the enveloping darkness, propelling him forward, onward, inward, toward the abyss of nothingness where all sound and taste and smell and sight and touch were consumed and obliterated, silently urging him toward that chasm of infinity.

“I shouldn’t make either of us keep on waiting.” A voice called

A faint crackling of electricity resounded in the back of his mind; the hideous scream pounded against the back of his skull; and the man abandoned himself and fell forward, into the groping shadow-hands, dead as they were.

“The ancient metal doors swung open violently; the corroded hinges groaning. Blinding white light engulfed the narrow hallway, reflecting off the crisp frosted walls and alabaster floor. All around me there hung a shroud of foreboding apprehension; the cold, soulless air seized my lungs in an icy, lifeless grip. My arms were pinned beside me, pressed down against the cold metal of the screeching stretcher I had been forced upon. My heart was like roaring thunder trying to escape the confines of my chest. The footsteps of my captors echoed into the very depths of my soul, each crashing footfall sounding in my ears like great bursting schisms of the earth. I could barely lift my head high enough to glimpse the endless rows of doors falling back behind us.

My frame was lifted off by many hands and carried off; I felt my breath crying out, but the sound did not reach my ears. I felt my body slam onto the cold ground, feeling the grating of a heavy door through the stone floor of the cell I was cast into.

Around me, out of the darkness stepped dozens of misshapen figures cloaked in the blackness. Their mutilated and disfigured forms were shrouded and unclear; their pained moans and cries resounding off the walls and ceiling. They inched forward toward me, their gnarled arms reaching out for me, trying to lace their fingers in my hair and around my arms and legs. As I rolled onto my back and gazed up, they circled above me, their sad, tortured crimson eyes bearing down upon my soul. In their eyes I saw their past, our present, and my future. They were the ones who had been taken before me, those who died here in these very rooms in bygone days long ago. My chest swelled in terror as they lifted me up, pulling me into their world of pain and death. The only sound that could be heard was my screams as I was consumed in the black pit of hell.”

NIGHT THREE SUMMARY -

Weapons Dealer Lucky Luciano [Daveanoyl Chloride] is electrocuted
Alignment: Neutral

Adoggo is ‘taken’ somewhere unknown

Day Four

Trivia

• The initial roles of Daveanoyl Chloride and Buttery Boonswoggles were the same, until this was brought to light on Day One. The votes cast involved both nations and so the two were granted voting immunity and the role problem solved.
  
• During this time, the neutrality of Mushy Pea, the moderator, was questioned and the action taken was, by some, said to be inappropriate.
• Mafia is the only Werewolf/ Mafia game hosted in The Spectrum to follow a strict 3rd person - 1st person format.
• Despite the title of the game, many players professed to, ironically, preferring the Werewolf theme to Mafia.