Posts from Mafia 79. 1/0

...and, in order, the mafia blocker could block the Gorb blocker...

I want to and I accuse. *scorched Arandor with an icy glare, and left to weave intrigues.*

Accusing means you're a member of the Mafia.

There seem to be many votes for Rimp, so I'll join in too, execute Rimp. I don't see any other candidates anyway.

Definitely.

Execute Arandor - 1 vote (VesperLindt)
Execute Drakkosha - 1 vote (Morning)
Execute RiMpel2 - 6 votes (Ursula, Arandor, 0xFF, Shamrock Rover, Sesame, Larisa)
Execute VesperLindt - 1 vote (Killer Instincts)

8 votes are required for an execution.

Mafki distributed the votes.

Do you stand by your words, or is it the usual? ))

Accusing means you're into them.

So, it means you love them, why are you twisting things?

But she is the one accusing me, not the other way around.

The day is over.

Added 5 minutes ago
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Laughter Through Blood

...Ursula was nowhere to be found all day. Someone has been paying close attention to her lately...

...Early in the cold morning, a group of five people gathered somewhere in a coniferous forest. They were all dressed almost identically, with plaster masks on their faces depicting frozen-in-time pre-death emotions. In a sense, everyone who had gathered here is already dead, no matter how it all ends. Among the towering pines listening silently to the gathering, a figure of a tall man flashed by. The mask on his face twisted into a grimace of madness and seemed to mock the participants in this meaningless and merciless game. He held a revolver in his hand. Approaching the players, he took a cartridge from his pocket, opened the cylinder of the revolver so that everyone could see it, inserted the cartridge, put his hands behind his back, and spun the cylinder several times. The order was determined by lot. The first trigger pull led to nothing but relief felt by the person as they moved the barrel away from their temple. The second and third were the same. But luck would eventually run out. This time, it ended with the fourth player. A loud shot rang out. The body, still hot from tension, fell onto the frozen ground of the dark forest. Harsh fate is relentless. The people standing nearby were slightly splattered with blood and pieces of brain. The man, with a mad grin on his mask, approached the corpse, unclenched his fingers tightly gripping the weapon's handle, took his revolver, and removed the mask from the loser. It turned out to be Heroist. Small sheets of paper with poems and notes about some "cuching" were found in his coat pockets.
- In the end, we will all lose, - said the man with the revolver, - there are no winners...

...Morning walked calmly and restrainedly down the street, despite the anxiety caused by the increased paranoia in recent days. He wanted to get home quickly, but a brisk pace and haste could seem suspicious to someone. Although that didn't matter anymore. As he got close to the door of his dwelling, and was already reaching for the keys in his pants pocket, the light coming from the lamp he usually left on shone through the gap between the door and the floor, interrupted by someone's shadow. Morning slowly lowered the keys back into his pocket and, turning around, headed towards the exit of the building, but it was too late. An armed man in uniform appeared seemingly out of nowhere and blocked his way. Without hesitation, Morning rushed at him. A short burst of gunfire rang out, and two more people with automatic weapons ran out of the neighboring apartment. The wounded Morning was dragged into his apartment. In the kitchen, smoking a cigarette, sat a short man listening to Michel Legrand's music playing from the speaker of a small radio. A loaded pistol lay on the table. Leaning over the owner of the apartment, who was kneeling, the man exhaled cigarette smoke onto him. This provoked a reaction in the form of spitting a mixture of saliva and blood in his face. Which, in turn, led to a blow to the head with the handle of the pistol and ten blows with heavy soldier boots to the head and torso of Morning, who, at that moment, without losing consciousness, was already smearing blood across the wooden floor.
- Perhaps some last words? - asked the man with the pistol, taking a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiping the contents of the bully's oral cavity off his face.
- To shoot is not to refute! - came a gurgling voice filled with blood. After which a shot rang out...

Alive:

3) Arandor
4) Sesame
5) 0xFF
6) VesperLindt
7) Shamrock Rover
8) Ursula
9) Ment
10) Драккошка
12) Гур
13) Larisa
14) Killer Instincts
15) RiMpel2

Dead:
1) Morning
2) Heroist
11) Нэйра Дрейк

Ursula was blocked, a Hero was killed by a random number generator, and Lokken was… well, I’m not quite sure what happened to Lokken yet.

Probably,
a Heroes player is a romantic poet,
Morning - To shoot doesn't mean to refute - a thinker.

Apparently, Heroist is a romantic or a dreamer (since he writes poetry), while Morning... is most likely an explorer (the phrase "To shoot is not to refute" is very similar to "To burn is not to refute," which Google attributes to Giordano Bruno).

Added after 38 seconds

Morning - To shoot is not to refute - a thinker

Ah, yes. He could also be a thinker.