"Order! Order!" Goody Briar called out, as she slammed the gavel down on the podium... Well, it was actually a rolling pin, but not having an acting judge in the small village of Cysville, the villagers had to make do. "I call this meeting to order! Now, first on the agenda. Some very important news has been brought to our attention, as I'm sure you're all aware by now. Yes, our own Goody Hickinbottom has recently won the grand prize at the Cyspool bakesale with her delicious pickle and peanut butter pie! I'm sure we'd all like to give her a round of applause." Goody Briar announced, leading the clap herself. "A very proud day for Cysville indeed.
Now, onto the next order of business. Over the past few months, this humble village has fallen prey to the most heinous crime since the very founding of Cysville. Yes, you all know what I'm talking about... Littering! This foul murderer has been running amock, dumping countless nameless peasants and random streetshitters in our once prestine streets! And who has to clean it all up? That's right! Us! Now, I ask you, does anyone here have time in their busy schedule of barn raising and shit shovelling to be clearing up dead bodies off the street? I say no! What's worse, our doctor has deduced by a lack of blood and the presence of puncture wounds to the victims necks, that this serious of inconsiderate murders was caused by nothing less than a vampire! Yes, I know! A vampire, here in our own village! Who would ever have thought such a thing? And as we all know, vampires are all notorious killers, devil worshippers, undocumented Romanian immigrants and dirty Commie sympathisers! And we are all here to say enough is enough! So, I put it to the council, the question on everyone's lips... How do you tell the difference between an ash tree and a black walnut tree? We don't want the villagers wondering around armed with a bunch of useless black walnut stakes, after all."
"Thank you, Old Man Zerka!" Goody Briar replied. "Remember that everybody. I think it's safe to take Old Man Zerka on his word. As we all know, he is the village expert when it comes to smelling nuts."
Kelley Brambilla, widow, artist and gardener pruned flowers in her garden.
Wait a minute...
... Ladies and gentlemen, we got her! ^_^
Oh wait, my bad. That's the bride of Frankenstein. You're cool. ^_^
... Am I the only one at the meeting? :p
Widow Rita had already lived a rather eventful life. Were her 8 loving sons not upstanding members of the community, a woman of her advanced age and wild past would've likely been some sort of suspected witch. Decades ago when she was still young, her husband died in the war. Rumor had it that when the Chaotic Battle of Kaity came to her village (yes, she's that old) she avenged her husband with a sling, a firewood axe, and her loyal sheepdogs.
She had hoped to retire peacefully, though had been forced to protect her herd and her children from many other threats in her day. Even as recently as five years ago, she had launched a sling-bullet through the skull of a large wolf... It was a 'Pariah' with no pack. One that was said to maul humans more than any sheep. For whatever reason, she cremated that creature rather than skin and eat it, as was the usual practice. This was the source of several rumors, but they were the talk of rowdy children with wild imaginations- No story with any real legs. Most people were quite fond of the sweet old shepherd woman!
Of course, she moved to greener and less war-torn pastures later in life. She eventually settled with her two younger and unmarried sons in Cyspool. She hoped that the town would bring some much-needed peace in the winter of her life. Unfortunately, trouble seemed to find her, no matter where she went. Alas, she had to keep a cool head. No doubt others would look to an elder for wisdom in a time like this- but frankly, she didn't know what to do.
As usual, she brought her humble cart of cheese and yarn to the town square- Yes, pulling it herself, much to the apothecary's chagrin. But today she brought a few guests that she didn't usually take to town. A few of her younger mastiffs that she was still training came with her. No doubt the big fluffy white creatures would calm the worried children as their parents gathered. She took a stool from her wagon and sat quietly behind the crowds, easing the stress on her stiff back. Though her eyes smiled so see the village kids tossing sticks for her puppies, it was a mere distraction from the grave news she was overhearing from the gathered townsfolk. She could only hope those nobles hanged the right men...
Daisy Reyes woke that morning late for her usual shop opening, somehow having continued to dream through the commotion that had been building in the town square, the sound having been loud enough to stir her eldest brother, Cedric. He had always slept like a rock since he had suffered a rather hard fall as a child, and Daisy never felt like it was a burden to take care of him. She was the youngest of four children, but her sisters had long since moved away in search of what they described as "somewhere more refreshing than the same-old same-old of familiar Cyspool". Daisy had no idea what they meant; she'd grown up here, in the wild fields and rackety old homes. She couldn't imagine a life not spent inside of her tiny shop, weaving clothes and tailoring to her heart's content. Even if she had to care for Cedric between appointments with customers for the sizing of suits and shortening of sleeves.
She stumbled out of the shop, having deigned not to flip the small sign that read Closed back to Open, instead hurrying to where the noise was spilling into the air like a unrolling spool of thread. Daisy had put herself together as best she could in a very brief ten minutes, after eating leftover meat pie from the night before and rousing Cedric from his almost comatose slumber. Which is to say, not terribly.
The rumors were true, as Daisy had garnered from the grim speech delivered by Goody Briar. She always hated those scary stories her parents used to tell her in order to scare her from going out at night; she'd always been a superstitious girl, even throughout her adult years. And confirming that the vampires were, in fact, real....it drove a spike of ice cold fear through her chest. Daisy hoped that they would find and convict the right bastard.
Though, just from taking a quick glance around them, there was one person that caught Daisy's eye. A man was studying all of them with a dark expression, almost as if he were sizing them all up to eat for dinner. Daisy inhaled deeply, calming herself. She was being unreasonable, she rationalized to herself. It would be much better for her to just simply work off of the facts and not pin the blame on people she had no connections to.
Hobo Charlie awoke in a pool of his vomit, a half-empty bottle of liquor still clutched in his fist. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes while slowly getting to his feet. It was a new day, and Hobo Charlie was planning on spending it as he did most days: boozing and lazing the hours away. He took a long pull from the bottle before setting off down the streets, staggering slightly from the effects of drunkardness.
The news was quick to reach Hobo Charlie through the panicked gossip of his fellow villagers. A girl found dead with the blood sucked dry from her neck, the work of a ghoul, no doubt. Though his senses were still dulled from the alcohol, he felt a sudden sense of dread and horror- something he hadn't felt since he had been Soldier Charlie, a nameless grunt fighting in the crusade against the legions of feline evil and degeneracy. A similar evil had come to their town, and Charlie could not help but feel that dark days were to come. And in dark days, one should never go without some liquid courage in their stomach. Hobo Charlie poured out a few drops of his bottle onto the ground in remembrance of the dead before lifting it to his lips, downing the remains of the booze.
Belinda was a quiet, proud woman. Proud of her town, mostly. She was born in Cyspool, her mother was born in Cyspool, her grandmother was born in Cyspool, and her great-grandmother was born in Cyspool. In fact, Belinda had never left the village. When all the newcomers came to work on the castle, Belinda was happy to share her town with them. The vampyr incident however, changed her mind on that front. Belinda believed that if all the newcomers simply leave town and take the bloodsucker with them, everyone would be much better off. Well, everyone in Cyspool, that is. She didn’t really care much about the rest of Cystia.
She had been a housewife her whole adult life and now that her husband had fled the town with their daughter, Belinda wasn’t quite sure what to do with herself. She put on her best dress and stood in the back of the town meeting, just watching the others go on about who the vampyr could be. She only hoped this whole thing would blow over soon so things could return to normal.
"Both good questions, Old Man Zerka," Goody Briar remarked. "Unfortunately, we have no way of knowing how many vampires there are in the village. You know how it is. If you let one move in, they'll bring their wives. Their wives will bring their parents. Their parents will bring their cousins. Next thing you know, the whole village is full of foreigners... I mean vampires.
Now, the first thing we need to do is stop the population from spreading. Which unfortunately means decapitating any and all vampire victims we happen to find. Again, truly sorry about your mother, Goody Haywood. But in Mr McOwen's defense, the inflammatory bowel disease did make her look particularly thin and pale. Can't be too careful after all.
As for locating the original, I do have a theory that I think can help us determine whether a suspicious citizen is or is not a vampire. Now, what do we do with vampires? ... Well, we burn them, of course! ... And what do we burn apart from vampires? ... Wood! ... So, why do vampires burn?"
Hobo Charlie wandered into the meeting room just in time to hear Goody Briar's inquiry. After several minutes of scratching his head in confusion and racking his booze-sodden mind, he finally came to a very logical conclusion.
"That's easy! *hic* That's cause they're made of wood!"
"Exactly!" Goody Briar declared happily. "So, how do we tell if someone is made of wood?"
"But what else floats apart from fatties?"
Very small rocks!
"Is that true? I can't say I've ever seen a very small rock float."
I've seen a lot of wild things in my time.
Pie or Die. I like it. Makes a nice substitute for Cake or Death. ^_^
Your suspicions against Mara are noted, but also immediately dismissed as she joined the game after the roles were already given. :p
Or, maybe I just looked at the list of players in Mizal's first post and saw that Mara's name isn't on the list. Meaning she joined after the game had already started. :p
True... But chocolate IS delicious. ^_^
"Free pies?" Goody Briar declared happily. "Well, why didn't you say so? Do you have pickle and peanut butter? ... But no. Despite my love of a good pie, we can't simply murder a man without a fair trial. So, to make sure that Jon Ace is infact a vampire... Does anyone have a duck?"
Daisy looked very confused at all this, but there was one thing she knew for certain. That Jon person that Goody Briar and Miss Stewart were currently speculating as the vampire was behaving very oddly. Thoguh she assumed that all of them had turned glances at one another with unease. "I don't have one, but...Old Man Zerka mentioned that there is a rumor where you can get turned by vampires. Maybe we can check for bite marks?" She piped up, trying to make her soft voice heard in the square.
"Hmm," ... Goody Briar mumbled to herself. "Well of course, checking for bite marks isn't nearly as effective a method for vampire detection as seeing if he weighs as much as a duck, but then ducks can be notoriously difficult to catch, and I doubt anyone in the village has a set of scales large enough to hold a grown man anyway. Jon Ace. If you wish to prove your innocence, would you be so kind as to provide us with a clear view of your neck?"
What's an American?
Sounds like a fair trial to me! ^_^
Wait... But if the results are determined by Mizal... Then that means that Jon doesn't know whether he has bite marks on his neck or not... Which means... He's either a vampire with some nifty makeup skills or a human with amnesia?
"Hmm..." Goody Briar thought long and hard about Iva's theory. It was indeed a solid one. What better occupation for a vampire than an undertaker? After all, he'd be financially proffitting from his own crimes. So, to determine Old Man Zerka's guilt or innocence, it all came down to one question... Was the old undertaker, infact, a back door bandit?
"Well, as anyone who's read Twilight, Carmilla or Interview with a Vampire well knows, vampires are notoriously gay," she thought outloud. "And Old Man Zerka has already admitted to smelling nuts."
"The real question you should be asking," Daisy added, "Is whether or not he likes to cuff his pants."
Daisy couldn't help but agree with that reasoning. But she couldn't pin the blame on him without significant evidence to prove the theory. It wouldn't weigh well on her conscience to kill someone without at least some form of lead. "There was also the fact that he said he had been watching the graveyard...odd, yeah? Let's check him for marks, too, then."
"Ahah!" Goody Briar declared. "Old Man Zerka likes Rhubarb pie! And what does Rhubarb have a similar colour and consistency to?"
"Very large red celery?"
"Exactly!" Goody Briar declares. "And haven't you ever heard of The Celery Stalks at Midnight? A legend of an evil bunny vampire that preys upon... You guessed it... Celery!" (I swear to God, this is a real book. Google it.) ^_^
Rita furrows her brow in silence, "Surely Old Man Zerka doesn't look that much like a rodent?"
Rita's youngest son Telgr arrived to check on his mother, who was still listening to the town meeting. Her expression was rather grave, but of course, without evidence, she had nothing to say. Telgr was about to complain that he shouldn't be hauling hundred-pound cheese carts to town on her own at this age, but she was simply beyond convincing. And since she woke up before either of them did, there was also no stopping her.
"Good morning, mama!" Telgr said, waving.
"Telgr! Good morning. What are you doing in town?"
"Oh, nothing in particular. Just wanted to check on you, since you disappear on market days."
"Ah, well it's good to be checked on," Rita laughed, "So Otto is watching the sheep?"
"He is. Though, uh... We haven't baled the hay, yet."
"Well, he'll be awfully cross with you if he has to do it all himself!"
"You're right! I should get going."
An idea came to Rita, and she waved her hand quickly, "Telgr, wait! I have a more, ah... Pressing task."
"What is it, mom?"
"Would you be a dear and catch some frogs for me, down by the river?"
"Just bring them here, I'll tie them somewhere to dry out and then bury them by the roadside."
"... Mother," Telgr said, with an expression of profound confusion, "Why on earth would you do that?"
"To see which way the vampire passes at night," Rita shrugged, "The other experiments headed by the village haven't worked out, but when you don't know anything, it's foolish to rule out everything."
"They have thin skin, I suppose. It's an old folk wisdom that vampires are so full of life they've stolen from others, that it's desperate to escape into other vessels. It leaves them in small amounts, but it's just enough to resurrect, say, an intact frog. If any of them have unburied themselves in the morning, we'll know where it went."
"Are you sure that works?"
"There are as many kinds of vampire as there are beasts of prey. And we all... Certainly aren't experts. Can't hurt to try." Rita said.
"Alright Mama. I'll... See what I can get ahold of?"
Rita relaxed as her son left... At least she'd have known she tried everything. In the meantime, though, she went to the baker's stall. She hoped to have a pasty or something for lunch before she got any frog juice on her hands.
And you could've asked him to fetch a duck >.<
This poor old lady isn't going to hand-build a scale large enough to determine whether someone weighs as much as a duck! Be reasonable, she's not a carpenter!
"I concur," stated Kelley Brambilla from the shadows. Although she lurked about not in any suspicious manner of course, listening to the conversations of the eccentric townsfolk.
"That way, if one of them dies we will know for certain the other is the vampire. And with none of our own moral repercussions. Well, mostly none."
Daisy shifted her attention from Zerka to the newcomer who had finally arrived to the area. He did put forth a few important points that she was in agreement with. "We could do that. But the issue with that is if the vampire is one of the two, we're condemning the other to death. An innocent one. I'm not against the risk, but I want to know everyone's opinion on it."
Rita pondered the proposal, but wound up shook her head, clutching her shawl with worry., "We'd have to put both of them under constant watch for the night. Some of the worst maneaters are known to... Change shape. A vampire might simply become a bat, or a rabbit, or a small melon, and slip through the bars! And their eyes can hypnotize, too. If either of those guards are compromised, the vampire will escape, kill someone, and return to their cell as if nothing happened!
And then we'll be no better off. Worse, the vampire could kill the guards just to make the others look suspect, and then we'd only have the word of the most suspicious characters that it wasn't they who did the killing. The only reasonable time to confront a vampire is when you're ready to kill them where they stand... And speaking as a tired older woman, I'd rather go home and sleep than spend the night holding people at stakepoint who might not even be the vampire we're after."
"Goody Iva makes a fair point," Goody Briar agreed. "If one of the prisoners dies, it could mean that their fellow prisoner is the vampire. But then, it could also mean that one of the guards is the vampire. A tricky situation indeed."
"Or it could mean that none of them are the vampire, and that we just presented him with an excellent way to kill one innocent and frame two others." Rita frowned.
"And why is it always the young who charge headlong into dangerous nonsense while ignoring the knowledge of the experienced? Suppose the vampire turns vaporous? Will your airtight structure provide these men with enough space to breathe for eight hours or more?" Rita scoffed, "Will we be able to tell the vampire didn't carefully replace the dirt after changing to something smaller and digging their way out? The vampire is presented with the perfect opportunity to frame someone whether we imprison him or not. If he successfully escapes, and kills someone, his false identity is 'proven' innocent. If he breaks the other man's cell from inside and kills someone, his cellmate is 'proven' guilty. If neither of these men are vampires and the real one decides not to kill anybody tonight, it only further drives a wedge between the innocents. By all means, if you think you can build a vampire-proof shack by nightfall, then do so... But I see a trap that may be laid out for us just as easily as for the vampire."
"It seems we have witches running about as well," Kelley muttered.
That Jon guy is only making himself look more suspicious, with his snide remarks and strange request for candles. "Candles? What benefit does a candle do?" Daisy does not look convinced.
Daisy did not, again, seem convinced that Jon was only simply asking for a personal item to comfort him while in whatever prison the rest of the villagers decided to build for him. She blinked at him once, twice, three times before turning her attention to the rest of them. "I don't see a reason why we should. You could use it for God knows what..."
After being pulled aside, Daisy's expression flickers for a moment. She's still not going to give in. "It's just not reasonable. If you get something, than the other should as well. We should not be picking favorites."
"Do vampires like candles?" Goody Briar pondered aloud. "I suppose it would provide a softer alternative to sunlight, but since the village council has already deduced that vampires are infact not killed by sunlight, I really couldn't say... On the other hand, witches most certainly like candles! And what do we do with witches?"
"Well I was going to say burn them, but your method sounds effective too."
"So, all in favor of throwing Jon Ace in the lake?"
A candle? You mean, something that could dull the smell of garlic? Hmm...
"Witches? Let's not jump to conclusions. I'm just a learned woman! Lord willing, you'll be as old as I am someday, and you'll know things!" Rita said. She was going to say 'I even know how to read!' but, let's face it, that wouldn't be helping her case in a debate about witches.
"The fact of the matter is that we know next to nothing about that man. But we know even less about certain others..." The old birdwoman says, folding her arms, "Do you know who never even looked at your cakes? Do you know which villagers have been actively avoiding sunlight?"
Rita pointed dramatically off down the road, "On a beautiful day, during a scheduled town meeting to address literal murders, two of our council members haven't even left their houses. The suspicious nobody seems willing to cooperate with what little tests we've devised, but we can't let an absence like this pass under our noses."
Charlie belched as he tossed his empty bottle aside. "Ghouls or no, it don't seem to me that the idea of locking up people would do much for our spirits. We don't got much to start suspecting people just yet other than some prejudiced notions based on the way a man looks and his means of making a wage."
"Calm down everyone!" Goody Briar beseeched the crowd as the accusations got more and more out of control. "Just look out of the window! The sun is setting and night is approaching fast! Soon the vampire will be on the prowl and it is our job to catch him before he can kill again. But also, as intelligent and reasonable villagers, we cannot simply go around burning people without just cause. That kind of treatment is reserved for vampires, witches and jews! ... I mean ghouls. Yes. Got to keep an eye out for those ghouls. Ahem... So, like the fair and logical villagers we are, we must conduct a vote before we start burning people alive. So, before night falls, who do you all vote to lynch?"
Goody Briar considered her options carefully. There was Jon Ace, who's behavior was so strange that she at first was convinced he was a vampire... But now was convinced that he was simply an extremely retarded human. As for Old Man Zerka, it was true he was profiting from these crimes, but then the same was true of any undertaker. And whilst he was almost certainly a necrophiliac, it was too early to determine whether he was quite gay enough to be a consumer of bodily fluids.
"I am afraid I shall abstain from voting for now," she eventually decided. "Much as I love a good pie, locating the true culprit is our number one priority. Though I may change my vote if more information comes to light before this meeting is over."
Oh, okay. I thought that might be against the rules. :p
Is it also allowed for the other villagers to stay in groups for safety reasons?
Okay... But are people allowed to guard the prisoners?
"Alright everyone, I second Edward's plan!" Goody Briar abruptly decided in a panic. "I vote that we imprison Jon Ace and Old Man Berka for the night. I also agree to allow Edward to guard the prisoners for the night to make sure they don't try any funny business like turning into bats or the like. If nobody dies tonight, it suggest that one of them is the culprit. If the vampire strikes again... Well, we'll deal with that issue if it arises." Of course, the plan may not work, but the result might hopefully shed some light on who the vampire might be.
"Hurry and cast your votes, my fellow villagers! You only have three hours left!"
"Hmm..." Goody Briar mumbled to herself, trying to come up with a plan that satisfies Goody Iva, while at the same time not breaking Mizal's rule of having people in groups. "What do you say if three people take shifts guarding the prisoners?" she suggested. "That way the three guards between them can see if anything goes amiss. Mr Price can guard them between 10 in the evening and 1 in the morning. I'd be happy to guard them between 1 and 4. Now I just need one more volunteer to guard the prisoners between 4 and 7 in the morning." (Hopefully none of this is against the rule of being reasonable) :p
"Wonderful!" Goody Briar declares. It seemed like a suitable plan was agreed upon. It was just too bad they couldn't find a duck. "I believe that brings the total number of votes to six."
"I agree to the plan" Belinda spoke up.
Daisy wrung her hands anxiously while she thought this over, having been pondering over the proposed solution for some time now. "I'm still not very excited about the prospect of potentially condemning one innocent man to death, but if it's the way to do it, then I'll vote in favor of your plan, Mr. Price." With what Jon had told her from pulling her aside, she hadn't been particularly swayed in one direction. "We should probably put the cage far from the neighborhoods. If they escape, they'll have to do some running."
"Ladies and gentlemen... Pitchforks at the ready!" ^_^
... I'm gonna die now, aren't I? >.<
"Well, he has already agreed to go into the cage... But best to give him a few firm prods, just incase."
"I might have done it if I could see straight long enough to grab anything." Charlie squinted as he tried to focus his vision. "But I I don't much like the idea of forcing an old man into a cage. What if he gets sick in there, then we'll have no damn gravekeeper!"
"Ah, but if locking you and Jon up means there won't be a killing tonight, then surely that's a good thing?" Goody Briar suggested.
Out of curiosity, what happens if 4 people vote for one plan and 4 people vote for another?
Fair enough. :p
... I think that's me. :p
To be fair, since the medieval times was a bad time to be gay in public, I think the homosexuals would develop more wrist-strength than any mortal man.
I love it
Dont regret forgetting to make a character now
So, just to clarify...Corgi is the bounty hunter and Nmelssx is the retarded dog, right? ^_^
I think Corgi is the retarded dog and Nmelssx got his head cut off.
"Urrrrgh..." Goody Briar groaned as she awoke from her shovel induced slumber. Bloody hell, she was going to have one nasty headache. But at least she lived to enjoy another day of spying on her neighbors, pressuring friends and relatives to join her MLM, ranting on antivax forums and asking to speak to people's managers.
But all of that would have to wait. There was much work to be done. After grabbing her fake Louis Vuitton purse and tidying her beautiful bob cut, Goody Briar headed into town to gossip about her conspiracy theories with the rest of the villagers. Whenever she encountered them, three subjects were brought up. Firstly, "Don't you think it's suspicious that Old Man Berka refused to get into the cage last night. Definitely something up with him." Second, "At least no one was killed tonight. But what does that mean? Could one of the prisoners have been the culprit? Or could the real vampire be trying to frame them?" And finally, "What do you suppose happened to the cages last night? Someone set fire to them, and yet no one was killed. If it wasn't the vampire, then who set the cages on fire, and why?" ... Though personally, she suspected Goody Martha, since she did seem particularly intent on killing Jon Ace, regardless of whether he was a vampire or not.
"Agreed! Everyone, tea and pies first... Then lynching!"
"Oh, I didn't mean that we were going to lynch you, dear." Goody Briar clarified. "Just sit down like polite, reasonable adults and decide who we're going to lynch next... But I do have to say, I doubt your theory that the vampire attacked the shed. If the vampire burned the shed, then why didn't he kill you afterwards? And if you both had died, that would leave two less suspects alive, meaning that the vampire would be closer to being discovered. Setting the shed on fire just doesn't seem to benefit the vampire in any way. I'm wondering if it was perhaps the act of a vampire hunter, convinced that the vampire was in the shed. But if that was the case, who exactly did they suspect of being the vampire?"
Goody Briar contemplated the subject carefully. "I must admit, Old Man Berka's actions last night were extremely suspicious. And I'm not too happy about being hit over the head with a shovel. Perhaps a few hours in the stocks being pelted with rotton vegetables is in order... But either way, why would he resist? Of course, the most obvious explaination is that he is indeed the vampire, and did not want to be captured. But then, could there be something else he is trying to hide?" she wondered.
Daisy Reyes listened to Goody Briar's words intently, her gaze fixed upon her face and flickering back to the edges of the woods where the shed had been built and promptly burned. The young tailor folded her arms across her chest, chewing at her lip in thought. "Well, besides the fact that the shed was bound to light up in flames because of Jon's request for candles, I don't see any reason why the vampire would want to torch them. It was probably done by an ordinary villager with malicious intent." The woman looked to the raving Martha with displeasure. "And I can think of no other who hates Jon more than Miss Stewart here."
"Oh!" Goody Briar declared. "A very good point, Goody Daisy. I suppose it's possible that the fire was infact caused by the candles that Jon Ace requested." Though her theory that Martha Stewart started the fire to kill Jon Ace was probably more likely. "Now, now, we're supposed to be trying to discover the vampire. Lets not bicker and argue about who burned who. I agree, it is indeed possible that Goody Martha burned down the shed in a pie fueled rage, in an attempt to murder Jon Ace... But I ask you, does the desire to brutally murder Jon Ace make her a vampire? Personally, I do not think so."
"With all due respect, Goody Briar," piped up Kelley Brambilla, with folded arms and a dark expression. "I think it is suspicious all its own that you were seemingly unconscious last night, and there were no killings."
"Excuuuuuse me?" Goody Briar practically screeched at the allegation. "Well with all due respect to you, Goody Kelley, I suspect your heinous accusations are made merely out of spite, after I suggested that you resembled the bride of Frankenstein," Goody Briar declared with a huff and a flip of her hair in a close immitation of Miss Piggy.
Hobo Charlie emerged from a nearby pile of garbage, rubbing his temples in an attempt to calm his raging hangover. "What's all this damn ruckus about, can't a war veteran get any sleep around these parts?"
He contemplated the news of the night as he took a sip from his hip flask. "Nobody died, eh? That's almost always a good thing, except when you're fighting in a war to the death! Remember, it ain't about dying for your country, it's about making the other son of a bitch die for his!"
"Well, I always think that I'll be able to power through just before I get drunk- that is until the second bottle goes down. Then it's lights out for ol' Charlie."
"At least men can still bear to look at me," Kelley spoke beneath her breath.
"You seem to take a worrisome amount of delight in throwing folks in cages, and locking them in stocks."
"While I still fully plan on having you locked in the stocks for a few hours, you do make a very good point." Goody Briar agreed. "Edward, if you would be so kind, could you please explain to the council exactly how your makeshift prison was set ablaze on your watch?"
"I'm getting tired of this rivalry between you and Jon." Daisy, who usually is very patient especially with the clientele she attends to during her work, looks pissed for the first time in their meetings together. "It's derailing us from getting anything done. I want to get rid of the vampire, and it won't help if we have two votes out of the dozen of us only towards each other."
"Agreed," declared Goody Briar. "After all, I personally doubt either of them are the vampire, so I won't be voting to lynch either one. So, this is what I suggest... Goody Martha and Jon Ace shall settle their differences in an epic pie fight to the death! All in favour?"
Daisy nods. "As long as they stop bickering to each other, I'm in."
"... And, with that out of the way... Who do we lynch tonight?" ^_^
"Ah, but if he isn't the vampire then it's highly unlikely that he would take the vampire's side and prevent a sensible lynching. That said, his resisting arrest is most certainly suspicious. At the moment, I'd say that Old Man Zerka and Edward Price are probably the most suspicious, since it was under Edward's watch that the fire started."
"Well, I think the fact that I was unconcious and being guarded all night at least proves that I couldn't have started the fire. Perhaps figuring out how and why that happened could help lead us to discovering the vampire."
"I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about, Edward. You must be mistaken. Besides, my husband left town because of the vampire so the sooner this whole thing is taken care of, the sooner our lives and families can return to normal. I see no reason to spread false rumors about me. Maybe this is how you want to avoid suspicion on yourself?" Belinda turned around and spoke up louder, addressing the whole town, "I vote for Edward."
Are we meant to have cast the next vote by the next update, or does the vote come after?
"Wait a minute," Rita pipes up, "This doesn't seem quite on. We both know that fire is one of the only things guaranteed to kill a vampire. Why would a vampire toy with something so dangerous just to do something it could easily do by smashing the building and crushing everyone inside? It's far more likely that a villager thought that the vampire was one of the men inside and wanted to burn them inside. There certainly is a guilty party, but it's probably not the vampire. As the vampire is clearly the worse threat in this scenario, I cannot in good conscience vote for anyone on the grounds that they were the ones who committed this crime. The trial for that shall come in less urgent times."
"But do you have any idea who started the fire?" Goody Briar pressed. "And if not, then how could you have missed such a thing? Did you fall asleep on the job, or, perhaps, were you put under some vampiric trance?" As for his plan... Well, she supposed it was better than nothing. Personally, she'd prefer a good lynching, but the only problem was that she genuinely didn't have anyone she suspected more than others. Infact, all she had were people she was relatively certain were not the vampire. Jon Ace and Goody Martha she seriously doubted. Also, while his explanation was vague, Edward's lack of information actually did more to convince her that he wasn't the vampire. After all, if he was, wouldn't he have thought of a better explanation than the one he gave? So, she had three people she highly doubted were the vampire. The question was... Who did that leave?
Now, Old Man Zerka. There was a suspicious character if ever she saw one. But there was only one thing that troubled her about that theory... Would mizal really give a vampire the power to veto someone else's vote? Surely that's cheating.
Rita woke up early in the morning, and began slowly winching up the sheep from the underground oven. It had been slowly roasting in the pit over the past 8 hours. Poor dear had wandered off from the herd and been killed in the woods, but there was no reason for it to go to waste. She seasoned it throughout the preparation process, filled its stomach with mushrooms and rice, and seasoned the beast throughout the process with (what else?) but garlic and rosemary, as well as any other spices she could find growing out in the pasture.
Underneath it, she had placed a wide platter of veggies to rest on the coals. Partially to keep the juices of the lamb from snuffing out the coals, but mostly because she now had a perfectly carmelized cauldron of onions, carrots, turnips, and sprouts, soft and flavorful, fried in all the dripping fat of the sheep that had dripped out of it overnight. Rita very carefully hoisted the steaming animal out of the pit behind her home, the smell of blisteringly hot, home-cooked heaven filled the air around her house. Of course it attracted one of her sons.
"How are you doing, Otto?" Rita said without turning around when she heard footsteps.
"Just checking in, mom. Is that the sheep from a few days ago?"
"Indeed it is. After breakfast I'm going to take the rest to market."
"Did you take the head off yet?"
"Of course not! I didn't want all the fat to drain out. Didn't I already teach you boys how to do this?"
"I, ah... You never ruled out taking the head off."
"If you left a hole that big in an animal, you'd end up with 90 pounds of the driest meat you've ever seen." Rita shook her head, "What's your concern with the sheep's head anyway?"
"Telgr and I were building a monster out of bones to scare people during the Hallowhain Festival."
Rita sighed and laughed, " Hoho you boys. Are silly things like that the reason I don't have any grandchildren from you yet?"
"Mooom! You have 38 grandchildren!"
"It's alright, Otto! I won't pry. But the clock is ticking, y'know."
"Maybe someday when I've got a homestead of my own. No offense mom, but the only unmarried women in the place you picked out are..."
"What are they?"
"One's a celibate weirdo, and the other one's a baker!"
"And what's wrong with the baker?" Rita said, pretending she didn't already know why, "Bakers can do very well for themselves, you know! You could play your lute in the big city! You've always told me you wanted to do that."
"I know she's a little heavy, but these things are fickle. My own grandmother was alive during the time of The Empire, son. Back then, those urban types from the south very much preferred that sort of figure! It was hard for a girl in this family to marry up!"
"What!? Mom, no! It's not that! She's just... Y'know..."
"What's wrong, dear?"
"She's... Weird. And violent. And Frankie says she's some kind of sex-pervert."
"Well, I can't argue with that. I'll just say to keep an open mind, hon."
Rita had been busy portioning the meat off into a cauldron, picking up a freshly cut shank and watching the mouth-meltingly tender roast drop off the bone by force of its own weight, "Oh, and speaking of... Would you help me bring the wagon to town this morning, Otto?"
"Oh, sure thing mom, as long as I get a second bowl of rice."
"... Catch some more frogs for me, and we'll talk."
"Interesting... Well, in that case, I shall vote..."
Vote: Iva Pringle!
"Since Goody Martha did not arrive in the village until after the vampire attacks began, I think it's safe for us all to assume that she can't be a vampire. And of course, it would be counter-productive for us villagers to lynch anyone who isn't a vampire, since that would leave us with less villagers to vote in the next lynching, as well as less possible victims for the vampire, thus making ourselves more likely targets. And so, it would be completely foolish for Goody Pringle to cast a vote for Martha, unless of course... She was the vampire herself!"
"Goody Pringle, dearie, last night Old Man Zerka hit me over the head with a shovel. I'm not sure what more you need to make you a raving madman. Also, whilst I doubt that Jon Ace is a vampire, it is still a possibility. Considering that Goody Martha didn't arrive in the village until after the attacks began, it's impossible that she was behind the attacks... Unless of course there is more than one vampire. Though I find that unlikely, since there were no killings last night."
"You're welcome." ^_^
Vote: Iva Pringle
Yey! Now we just need one more. ^_^
... Well, this was a bizarre turn of events. Now Old Man Berka was also voting for the only citizen the village knew to be innocent. But that only begged the question. Was he indeed the vampire... Or was he simply crazy? ... Or both?
Vote: Goody Briar
Daisy thought this over for a bit, finally concluding her vote. "I agree with you, but since you were knocked out the night the cell went up, and the fact that you're taking a leadership role...you may be a vampire trying to conceal yourself. My vote is for you."
"And this coming from the woman with the username, "At Your Throat"?"
"What's a username!?"
Hobo Charlie uncorked another bottle of rum and chugged down half its contents with a single gulp before coming up for air. "Now listen *hic* here, you lot! I've seen this before in my time in the war! Brothers and sisters in arms turning on each other, finger-pointing and accusing *hic* each other willy-nilly! It damn never ends well!"
"The last thing we need to do *hic* right now is to tear each other apart when we have a perfectly good vampire to do that for us!"
Rita wiped her hands off on her apron as the cauldron was emptied by hungry customers and her work done for the day. She stepped forward at the town meeting with a grave expression as she heard what was going on. She clenched her little weathered fists lightly, before clearing her throat and opening her beak to speak,
"This isn't the first time I've been faced with creatures of darkness. In all my time as a simple sheep herder, I'd hoped to avoid them. But whether it's wolves and badgers or... Something worse, there's small commonalities between the beasts I've hunted. Rules and subtleties, you know, what they tell stories about.
Of course, I've never hunted a vampire, but I've heard a lot about them, and I know that they could possess any number of powers and are at least as dangerous as some of the worst things I've been faced with. But a new challenge is just that- a new challenge. And like all new threats to the flock, something that has to be confronted systematically, and with caution."
She stood up on her stool and took a small head-count of the group, "I'll say one thing- I've seen the biggest thing that once lived in those woods outside our village, and I'm willing to bet that four of us even with proper tools couldn't put it down. A vampire that actively hunts men is at least as dangerous, and we shouldn't expect to be able to lynch it with any less than 4 villagers with stakes. Every time we lynch an innocent, we lose precious time investigating the real culprit. Assuming the vampire kills someone every night, we only have 3 left before we can't afford to lose anyone. And remember, we've already lost two after that Melissa woman turned out to be a foul child fiddler and Corgelius Jackson the Third actually turned out to be a horrendously malformed dog wearing a clever disguise."
"As far as I know, the two who were locked up in that shack are some of the least suspicious. Mister Zerka proved that rather handily last night. He swung that shovel like a professional. You could see him really putting his back into it. If a vampire had put that level of animation into a shovel-swing, quite frankly Goody Briar would no longer have a head. It takes a lot of time in the business to know how to swing a shovel like that- and it's something that frankly, I don't believe a vampire would know. He would have spent that time learning about the dark arts, and mastering his vampire powers and whatnot. It's my professional opinion that you cannot be both a shovel-swinger and a vampire, so Mister Zerka should be perfectly safe.
Jon, or whatever his name was... He's a well-meaning boy, he really is, we all know he does his best. While his level of incompetency is something to be expected from a very experienced vampire, the fact of the matter is that he doesn't seem like a very experienced... Anything. I'm sure you longtime villagers have lived with and observed this boy for long enough to know that he truly is a genuine retard.
But stupid is as stupid does. And stupid openly votes for the only person with any evidence in their favor, simply for their contrived fear that the confirmed innocent will misuse their skills. I do not suspect Jon at the moment simply because I have no reason to suspect he has the mental fortitude for anything but blatantly blundering through everything and anything. He does not have the mental capacity for a true deception or even a poker face of any kind. His paranoia has rotted any semblance of that from the very first moment of the very first town meeting.
For other reasons, I have no reason to suspect that rather large young woman who lives down the road. She is a woman of intense, singleminded focus. She goes for what she's after. Whether it's booze, or getting people to take her cakes, or just wanting to see a lynch occur, or... Other things. I have no reason to believe she'd change in her behavior come nightfall. Had Martha been a vampire, Jon would have been dead, or worse. While bloodthirsty, she simply doesn't seem like she literally thirsts for blood as much as she thirsts for vodka. And McFlurries. How in the 9 hells does a middle-class woman even get like this before the invention of corn-syrup!? Now, I do not excuse any of these people of suspicion altogether, but I do believe that there are other, far more urgent matters for our investigation."
"As I've previously said, voting for the least vampiric of us all is deeply suspect at the best of times, which makes Iva deeply suspectalicious, considering she's not even stupid enough for these blunders to be brushed off as a mere symptom of their tragic condition. However, I also find it odd how the flower woman was so quick to jump on this wagon without reasoning of her own, and it does indeed seem like things are happening behind our backs that most villagers don't know about. I'd like these two to share their reasoning with this old woman if they want my vote. Though for now, I am still unmoved."
I hope the vampire makes you a penguin slushie. >.<
Belinda spat out the mint leaf she'd been chewing on. "The difference between you and I is that I'm not scared what a dentist will see when he's in my mouth."
Goody Briar raised an eyebrow at that remark. "... You let a lot of dentists into your mouth, do you?"
Well there's no need to mouth off like that, young lady.
"That's true. Of us all still living, this woman has said and done the least to help us with the investigation. It could be a matter of not knowing what to do- But it could also be the act of someone who wants to stay out of sight and out of mind. For reasons that may not benefit us..."
Yeah, you all heard the woman! DO YA!?
After her hard work of vampire hunting was foiled by a crazy old man with the power to completely devastate the results of every vote, Goody Briar picked up one of drunk, crazy Martha's many bottles of tequila. "Fuck it!" she declared, practically downing half the bottle in one go and breaking into song. If she's going to be eaten tonight, well... Might as well enjoy the evening. "La cucaracha, la cucaracha, ya no puede caminar! Porque no tiene, porque le falta... Marihuana que fumar!"
"Do you have tequila pies?"
"The cockroach took it."
"Tequila, you say? Count me in!" Hobo Charlie proceeded to grab a bottle and started chugging while swaying his hips in a vague imitation of a Mexican jig.
Everybody dance now!
"Wait a minute!" Goody Briar suddenly declared in a drunken epiphany. "Why on earth didn't I think of this before? Uhh... Goody Belinda, dear. Would you mind terribly if we examined the contents of your little wine collection to determine if it is in fact wine, and not bottles and bottles of blood?"
A splendid idea indeed. If the bottles contained blood, the village had found it's vampire. If not... More booze for everyone!
No one had been killed.
Old Man Zerka and Young Oaf Jon had spent half the night under guard, and half the night free.
Besides the prisoners, Edward had been the only one known to be at the scene of the fire.
Goody Briar had spent the night unconscious and under watch.
Briar voted for Iva - nullified by Zerka
Kelley voted for Iva
Martha voted for Iva
Daisey voted for Briar
Iva voted for Mara, then Belinda
Edward voted for Belinda
Belinda voted for Edward
Ace voted for Zerka, then Edward
Zerka voted for Edward, then Martha, then Edward again!
Charlie and Rita abstained.
Final tally: Iva - 2
Briar - 1
Belinda - 2
Edward - 3
...Nearly everyone in town wanted to kill SOMEONE, but they were all too indecisive and absorbed by their bickering to decide on who. v-v
Belinda couldn't believe it. The vampire was a woman this whole time?! How unladylike! She spoke up, "there is only one person in town with a err bosom large enough for this. The same person that seems to survive on a diet of only pie. Martha... I didn't want to do this, but I vote for you."
"We can't be so hasty!" Rita said, "This may be exactly what the vampire wants! To prey on our internal feuds just so that they can prey on us! In a way, we've almost predicted every death so far. When we said it would be easy for the vampire to incriminate those men by not killing anyone the first night, do you know what they did? They didn't kill anyone. And when we pointed out how strangely motivated Martha was to kill Jon, we found him brutally hacked to death! These... Items could rather easily have been stolen from her home, in fact it may well have been what the vampire spent the first night doing! Vampires are stealthy creatures."
"I agree." Daisy looked to the crowd of villagers, chewing on her lip as she considered what had happened. "The vampire is clearly trying to pit us all against certain people. I think we should do some investigating at the crime scene before we point fingers."
"Ye gods, my head hurts something fierce. Tequila overdoses are commonly fatal, ol' Charlie got real lucky." The hobo moaned as he stumbled out of his shack. As he heard the accusations begin to fly, he spoke up.
"Now hold on just a minute, that's hardly proof. This here ghoul's a crafty one, so it could have easily carried these things from the fat one's house to Jon's. Also, you're overlooking these tequila bottle shards. Almost all of us got rip-roaring drunk last night and took part in the booze- regardless if Martha provided the drinks."
Daisy simply watched Martha, on the floor, with a blank expression. "Well, that is wildly dramatic. Vampires do bleed, you know; where else would all that blood go?"
"I vote we do so, as well." Daisy nods in agreement with Miss Pringle, tugging at the edges of her sleeves. The murder of her fellow villager has shaken her; her paranoia only grows the longer they allow Martha to rave on and on about nothing.
Kelley Brambilla awoke with a large bruise on her forehead.
But it was not from any drunken shenanigans during the night. She had chosen not to partake in any of the singing or dancing or eating at all, rather chose to retreat to her garden, to at least escape the uncomfortable advances of Martha the Baker. (But more importantly, figure out who the damn vampire is.)
Hells, Kelley had thought, if I'm going to die it might as well be in the place that brings me the most comfort.
And now this, while Jon would be less-than favorably remembered, was so obviously a ploy by the vampire! No matter the fact Martha had probably slept with the vampire by now anyway.
But that was not the most upsetting part. Of all the folks the vampire could have framed, why did he chose the person so obviously not the vampire? Was it clever reverse psychology?
Kelley was visibly frustrated. The tips of her ears turned red, but she took a breath and loomed in the corner, but loomed with a vengeance.
No matter the fact Martha had probably slept with the vampire by now anyway.
Goody Briar groaned loudly as she awoke from her tequila induced slumber. Bloody hell, her head hurt worse than when Old Man Zerka smashed her over the head with a shovel. If the vampire didn't kill her, dealing with all these crazy villagers certainly would.
But, she didn't want to worry about that now. A new day, a new beginning. After wiping the vomit off her face and tidying herself up a bit, Goody Briar headed into the village for a new, productive day of vampire hunting... Only to find that Jon was dead, and the villagers had murdered the only suspect they knew to be innocent. "Oh, for the love of fucking God," Goody Briar sighed. "I'm going back to bed."
After an hour long nap, Goody Briar headed back to the others to reluctantly get back to sleuthing. Not that she thought she could achieve much, but someone had to try. "Alright, back to last night's question. Goody Belinda, would you permit the council to examine the content of your bottles to determine whether they contain blood or wine?" Hopefully the crude penis on her forehead wouldn't distract the villagers too much from their vampire hunting.
Belinda sighed, "I have no bottles, Goody Briar. You are all welcome to search my property to your heart's content. Unlike certain lying vampires like Edward, I have nothing to hide."
Hobo Charlie was in the middle of downing his second flask of vodka of the day, but paused when he heard his name being mentioned. "Now, listen here you whippersnappers! I didn't spend my youth crawling around in rice paddies so that I could be accused of being a vampiric ghoul of the night!"
"It's true that I've partaken in a few buxom babes during my soldiering days, but I would never touch a baker- the flour residue gets everywhere, you see. And of course I know things that others wouldn't pay any mind to, but that's the life of a hobo! You have to observe every goddamn thing just so that you don't get bored!"
"I abstained because I saw the madness that was happening, people accusing each other with little to no evidence to back up their claims- just like you're doing to me right now, you damn hippie!"
"Also, your second point is nothing more than anti-hobo prejudice and I won't dignify it with a response."
"Throwing a pie in the face of poor Jon in order to frame Goody Martha does certainly sound like the sort of thing Hobo Charlie would do. So..." Two votes for Charlie. ^_^
"I vote for Charlie, too" Belinda said.
"...It seems like ol' Charlie can't slip out of this one. Fine, I confess. I'm the ghoul." Hobo Charlie bared his teeth, letting all see his set of fangs, revealing himself to be Vampire Charlie!
"It wasn't always like this. I was an upstanding young boy, my head filled with the ideals of Cystia- that's why I enlisted to fight those damn catspawn in the great wars. But it was all downhill from there. My very first night out in the jungle, I got bit by a vampire were-cat, a most foul beast of the brush. It near tore me to shreds, but I didn't die that night. Instead, I hungered for blood, and every night I would pick one of my fellow soldiers to feast on- not kill, at least when I could control myself. But everyone's hunger gets the best of them eventually. A lot of the names of the MIA lists for the war shouldn't be on there- they aren't missing, I know exactly where they're buried."
"It just got worse after my term ended and I was discharged. I got hungrier and hungrier, and soon whenever I fed I was almost always killing. I could temper my thirst during the day by numbing it somewhat- bottles of alcohol, one after the other, until I was too blind drunk to even think about feeding. But it always wore off at night. I wandered for a long time until I arrived here, tried to make a new life for myself. Took the boozing up a notch- drank as much as I could for as long as I could, and that worked for a time. But when I saw that blind girl wandering the castle, her delicious exposed jugular looking tastier than a plate of raw cow organs...well, like I said, everyone's hunger gets the best of them."
Vampire Charlie began pacing back and forth before his audience. "But before your burn me, drown me, drive a stake through my heart, consider this. Really, what have you lost from all of this? Some haughty blind girl, a handful of lowly peasants, the village buffoon, and an extremely annoying obese baker- I did NOT have sex with her, for the record- did I take from you anyone you truly cared for?"
"I could put this village on the map. Send me after your enemies, those who you want to see dead, those who stand in your way. Let me work for you, and I will make this settlement into a grand city that will rule in dark domination over all of Cystia, with each and every one of you holding unlimited amounts of power. Think...if you kill me now, you'll be passing up the opportunity of a lifetime. I can make you all great!"
"I..." Goody Brair considered Vampire Hobo Charlie's confession and... Truth to tell, he made some pretty good points. That blind girl came from a no good family of foreigners anyway. Jon Ace was the village retard, and in killing him, Charlie also managed to frame Goody Martha, ridding the village of the crazy, screaming Spaniard. Truly, had he not done the village more good than harm? "Now that I think of it, there are some advantages to having a vampire in the village. Any dirty gypsy travelers passing by always seem to disappear the morning after. And my headache has calmed down considerably now that Retard Jon and Goody Martha are not around to torture us with their constant screaming matches... You know what, Hobo Charlie?
I withdraw my vote!
On one condition!" she added. "For your next victim... You find that no good scoundrel who stole the silver crucifix. If there's one thing I can't stand, it's sacrilege! Sacrilege and foreigners... And gays... And jews."
"Indeed, to kill me would be like destroying a perfectly good oven! An oven that can drain the blood of undesirables!"
"As for the thief...that would be her." Charlie extended a long pale finger towards Iva Pringle. "I attacked her on the first night, but that damned silver relic repelled me. Thieving and sacrilege, how could anyone stoop so low? What has the world come to?" Charlie shook his head in disgust.
"I should've known!" Goody Briar gasped. "I always knew there was something suspicious about Goody Pringle! ... The question is, does she still have the crucifix... Or has someone else stolen it from her?" Goody Briar asked as he eyes suspiciously scanned the room.
"Wait, do you still call people Goody when accusing them of bad things? Isn't it a bit of a mixed message?"
Could be worse... I could never take The Crucible seriously with a character called "Goody Good"
"How about we make a deal?" Goody Briar suggested, holding out her hand. "Hand the crucifix over first, dearie," she said, as if scolding a child for stealing sweets. "Then I shall recast my vote for Hobo Charlie."
The penis adds to the drama! ^_^
"Yahoo!" Two birds with one stone. "Thaaaank you," Goody Briar said as she took the crucifix back. "And I must say, I am offended. I would never sell a precious relic such as this. I'll have you know, that I am in fact...." And with that she ripped off her cloak and hat to reveal a nun's abbot beneath. "Sister Briar of Father Pedo's home for boys. The church sent me to find the missing crucifix and I have succeeded in my task! Unfortunately I didn't manage to get much investigating done, since I was unconscious the first night and passed out blind drunk the next. But no matter. It all turned out for the best. And now that the crucifix has been returned, I shall recast my vote for..."
A proud day indeed. Goody Briar could return to the Abbey with her head held high, the crucifix in her hand and a penis on her forehead. ^_^
Vampire Charlie stared in confusion as Goody Briar grabbed hold of empty air and did a celebratory dance.
... And then Goody Briar realized that Iva Pringle had editted her post at the last minute and she had no crucifix to snatch. "... Ah, fuck it! I never wanted to be a nun anyway! I wanted to be a Nazi! Soaring through the sighs, bombing yankies, ratting on commies and burning jews to my hearts delight! Death to the foreigners! All hail Vampire King Charlie!"
"Is 'Goody' a title reserved for married women? Well, I'll be damned. You learn something new every day." ^_^
Yeah, but mizal hadn't counted on it being a Hobo Vampire. :p
"And just think... It will be wonderful for business." ^_^
Belinda was ready. Finally a king worthy of the great castle that stands in Cyspool. Someone who could overtake that stupid shitty Cystia once and for all. "Yes Charlie, I will vote for you as king. Let's put Cyspool back on the map."
Rita pondered over the losses. She was relatively new to the village, but it seemed indeed that the village had become a slightly better place on account of the vampire's... Intervention.
"As a humble shepherd myself, I find your stance on the peasantry quite upsetting. That being said, this town seems to believe in second chances... Or, third? Fourth? How many men did you kill back then, anyway? My husband was in that war!" Rita bit her tongue, this sounded like a worse idea by the minute, but it seemed like the investigation of the vampire only turned up other threats to the village's well-being. Intelligent badgers? That constantly steal frogs for some reason? Even dry, nasty ones? Something was clearly up here.
"But nevermind that. You've offered to help us, so help us you will. I'm... Far more hesitant to kill you than my colleague is, apparently. I've always tried my best to coexist with the man-eating night things. But now that we know who you are and where to find you, the threat is significantly diminished. If you truly will use your powers for good as you say you will, then I see no problem with keeping you around. But seeing as you yourself admit to having trouble controlling yourself... Well, that's just a liability a village as small as ours can't afford! If you slip up even once, then I agree with Young Edward- We shall find out how best to kill a Vampire."
Vote: Conditional mercy.
"I think I'll buy a boat with an indoor garden and sail far away from here," mused Kelley Brambilla.
Daisy jumped a bit when the vampire bared his fangs, not sure if she was imagining things or if he were being truthful. But she could no longer lie to herself when he talked on about his struggles to keep what was left of his humanity. She was absolutely terrified of this man; if he wanted to, he could kill any number of the villagers around them. And that was what Daisy was afraid of. She wrung her hands again, worry twisting her soft features. Daisy swallowed down the urge to run.
What infuriated her, mostly, was his proposal. A vampire, leading the town? A monster? And why were the others so readily accepting of this plan? He was probably only roping everyone into a plan that surely had bad intentions. But Daisy was more afraid of making this opinion known. If she were the only one to disagree, and disagree very strongly, he may kill her outright.
The young tailor let her hands drop to her sides. "I'm not happy about this proposal...I will abstain from voting for now." Her gaze shifted down to the ground in front of her. She could not imagine how much more she would have to protect Cedric. Who knows, perhaps with the security of being the town's leader, he could get away with whatever murder he liked. "How do we know we can trust you? You killed a fellow villager. Who says that you won't kill again?"
"Well, we could always lynch him if he kills someone who isn't a dirty, rotten foreigner."
"Quite so! You clearly have all the power over me, I am at your every beck and call. The blood of your enemies will be more than enough to satisfy my thirst." Charlie turned towards Daisy, a long fanged grin stretched across his face from ear to ear. "Good lady, you have nothing to fear from me losing control of myself."
Fear yet again lanced through Daisy's heart. She had lifted her line of sight from the ground, but after seeing him smile so creepily, she immediately looked back down. "I would prefer it if you would stop doing that."
Never underestimate Goody Briar's bitchiness! ^_^
Edit... Oh wait, nevermind. >.<
I vote for Old Man Zerka! ^_^
"Um, if you recall correctly, I did help find the vampire... But then I also spent an entire night trying to get everyone to lynch you, so point taken."
Vampire Lord Charlie yawned loudly as he lazily drummed his fingers against the arm of his makeshift wooden throne. He took a bemused glance at the remaining citizens of the village. "Well, I lied, but only a little. Almost all of you will still get all the benefits and power I promised, but we just need one more small sacrifice to get us all there. You guys go ahead and work it out, I'll give you some time before I cast my vote."
Changing my vote to the Werebadger.
I also vote for this werebadger.
If we don't come up with a four vote agreement, does that mean no one dies?
Belinda addressed the town, firm in her loyalty, "please be aware that King Charlie may not WANT to eat a werebadger. I certainly wouldn't, much too hairy. I understand that he must eat one of us and I am fine with that. Sacrifices must be made after all. I give my vote to Charlie, as I will vote for whoever he would most like to eat, even if that is me."
Daisy Reyes was stuck in yet another harrowing voting period. She had dreaded this; she'd known he would have to satisfy his hunger eventually. And had anyone listened? No. She tugged at her shirtsleeves, uncomfortable. Daisy didn't want to die for the sake of this new Vampire Lord. She had warned them, hadn't she? "Can the vampire not sustain himself on the animals surrounding this area? We should have thought this through before we blindly allied ourselves with a human-eating...man." She was acutely aware of the fact that if she talked too much of her opinions to the newly appointed leadership, she might find herself drained of blood.
"I say we give him the older members of this group...other than Old Man Zerka. After all, they have lived their lives to the fullest. The younger ones among us still have things, and people, to love and take care of."
"Excuse me, little girl." Rita scowled, "I still love and take care of my dear sons! And 50 sheep! It's true, I've been around a long time, but I just went through this whole fiasco for the express purpose of not letting the undead monster suck us to death. If the vampire can't be sated by werebadgers until the gypsies arrive, we've already made a mistake..."
Rita looked around to Belinda with a confused expression, "Or we could just sacrifice this lady, she seems to be into that sort of thing."
"... Sure, why not? I mean, who am I to judge? Whatever does it for you."
Changing my vote again to Goody Belinda.
I will also change my vote to Goody Belinda.
"I've made my decision...both of my votes -thanks very much Belinda, I will remember your blind obedience- will be going to that no-good Goody Briar! First you were extremely racist against hobos, and then you had the nerve to be a filthy nun all along! Such transgressions can only be properly punished via copious draining of the blood."
"Oh fuck," groaned Goody Briar. "Uh... I don't suppose we can change our minds and lynch him?"
... How does Belinda's original husband feel now that he's been cucked by a homeless vampire?
Wow, I never would have guessed! She knows the Frank?
No, I'm afraid just a Frank. :~P
Are you sure? The only Frank I know who's that tall and has stitches all over his hand is Frank Marble. Nobody told him how to use a sewing machine properly.
Now THIS is the best ending! ^_^
Glad that Cedric didn't end up dying. This was great, thank you so much for hosting!
I do love a happy ending! ^_^
Apparently it was a manner of some contention that Rita was a penguinite and I only mentioned it once. So I drew a picture of that time Jon was being escorted into the Pyromaniac's House of Pain and Rita was standing around
I also drew all the other villagers. They're just behind Martha.
It's beautiful! <3
Lol! No apologies necessary. I never would've thought to investigate Iva Pringle anyway. I would've wasted my time investigating suspicious people, and discovering their impressive collection of body pillows. (Also, I do seriously regret not naming my character Goody Karen.) :p
Also, out of curiosity... What was everybody's secret? ^_^
Widow Rita's secret was that she may or may not have killed her husband for being a werewolf, and then had an out-of-wedlock affair with another werewolf hunter, and then continued to hunt werewolves well into her golden years, so this nonsense was completely normal behavior.
She was young and inexperienced with werewolf-handling. If your husband's affliction catches you by surprise, sometimes there's just not a lot you can do besides throw rocks until he disappears off into the woods.
Oohh. Yes, the fact that it was supposed to be a raccoon makes a lot more sense. I wouldn't have even questioned it if that were the case, but I became increasingly suspicious because this is just not normal badger behavior. Unless there's dead megafauna lying around, like a deer or something, Badgers typically aren't scavengers. They're more or less the grizzly bear equivalent of everything in their weight class (and a few things above it) so while a badger probably wouldn't pass up a dead frog, they also probably wouldn't have gone around picking up every single one of them like a clever scavenger who figured out this is where food is. A badger is far more likely to not interact with a frog unless the critter decides to get up in its shit. If the frog had been eaten by rats or ravens or jackals or something, I wouldn't have questioned it nearly as intently and this whole sideplot wouldn't have happened. While it's true that in badger-hunting, you get a badger's attention by disturbing the ground, you have to do it by making the hole look like a place where an edible animal currently lives, not just a mound of dirt.
Still, this is the best thing that's ever come out of my Legally Required Captain Kronos Reference that I have to put in everything vampire-related.
This is also why I was so ready to assume that Edward was completely innocent. One of the more obscure character classes is "Arsonist". It's usually a bad or neutral guy, but frankly at the time I assumed that the only bad guy was a vampire, so the fact that he had a role made him a confirmed townie.
Little did I know, other people's secrets were something you could learn by regularly interacting with them.
(also, remember to read bottom-to-top.)