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Mafia VI Intro
Cliff Jumping
She was on the top of the world.
Cherry Lane stood, bathed in silvery moonlight, upon a small rocky outcrop. Behind her: a narrow path (fatal drops on either side) leading back to the icy plateau that peaked off the mountain- one of the highest mountains over Denbrain. To her sides and in front: nothing but the mountain air. She was upon a precipice that dropped for thousands of miles into the elliptical basin far below, lights twinkling. She couldn't make out anything individual (she was too far up for that), just a sprawl of lights and grids, with some darker sections as well.
Down there, it would be far too bright to see the stars.
Up here, things were different. Cherry Lane turned her face to the night sky to see the moon, almost full but not quite there yet, glowing softly and wreathed by angelic clouds. Around the moon the sky was speckled with a few stars- not a whole lot, just little clusters. It wasn't that late in the night yet.
Her feet cast long shadows from the moonlight, across the little ledge and then down into infinity, the mountains dropping from sheer heights all around her.
She took a deep breath, and jumped.
Cherry Lane pulled a little cord and her semi-triangular glider wings flipped out, slowing her fall and allowing her to control her flight motion. She grinned vibrantly as the wind flew through her hair and tugged at her gliders. Cliff jumping, she thought. The hobby of champions.
She looped and spiraled, riding the thermals and updrafts like a hawk. A third of the way to the ground she was getting shivery from the cold air, and a bit out of breath, and decided to descend the rest of the way much more quickly.
She had no idea how right that was about to be.
A Street Corner
"Get your tacos! Right here! Nighttime sale!" the Street Vendor called, glancing around. He spotted his only customer a block or so away... but wait. What was that darkness?
A Block Or So Away
Rancid breath. The smell of fear, of death, of danger, of excitement. The feeling of being watched. The feeling that something was right behind you- the person whipped around, to find the Grim Reaper right there, cloak flapping in the darkness, almost surrounding the smaller person.
The Grim Reaper took a deep sniff.
"You smell... good," he/she hissed, before launching into the night sky.
The Street Vendor watched with an amazed face.
Rich residential neighborhood
Frost's sleek black car pulled into the driveway, the sensor by the garage checking its registration and heat fingerprint before smoothly sliding open the garage door. It had been a long day at his new job, and Frost was exhausted.
"I thought you would be back at 6:00," complained a nearby voice. "I waited in this garage for more than 5 hours to kill you! C'mon man!"
"Sorry," Frost said, opening the garage fridge to grab a drink. His ears were straining to locate the visitor. "It was a long day at work."
"Yeah, that can get annoying, back in Quarky," the person replied from the shadows... there! Behind the hockey net? That's where they are, decided Frost. "In the Quarky Capital," the QA continued. "After they rebuilt it- curse the Sphinx!- I was an accountant for a little bit."
"Really?" Frost asked, feigning interest. "An accountant?" He took another sip of his drink, then started to put it back.
"Yeah, it sucked," muttered the QA. "They recognized my skill though, so here I am, ya know? Nothing personal."
"Same to you," spat Frost.
"What?"
The QA only had time to shriek before Frost grabbed both sides of the mini-fridge, ripped it from the wall (a few cords came away with little sparks) and hurled it against the hockey net, where it smashed the net to pieces. Ruined a good fridge, too. But no sickly crunch of human flesh. Had the QA escaped? Frost walked over and flicked on the garage light, kicking the fridge out of the way. Beneath it was a smashed cell phone. Frost could still see the remnants of the word 'Speaker Phone' on the fading LED screen. Then, with a start, he saw a thin wire trailing from the phone across the garage floor and under a tarp. That's where I keep my firewood, Frost thought, baffled. He walked over and whipped the tarp off.
That wasn't firewood.
The 'real' downtown
Two QAs were in shouting distance of each other... only they didn't know it.
The first was having no luck with his target. He/she had been tracking Brandonb all night with no conclusive results. It could mean any number of things... Lord Phoenix, gone into the night? Probably not, wasn't the right night. Safehouse? Maybe, who knows. Or, quite possibly, it could just be that the QA was alone. He/she was horrible at finding people by himself/herself. Sighing, the QA turned to go, walking straight past another QA without realizing it.
The other QA was busy stifling chuckles as he/she talked into a cell phone. Distracting the poor fellow was easier than the QA had thought.
"Same to you," sneered Frost's voice through the phone. It took the QA almost a second to realize that Frost was about to "kill" him/her, and screamed appropriately until he/she heard a violent crash. Then the other line clicked dead. The other phone had been destroyed!
"What?" the QA snarled. "No! Don't shut off!" Hurriedly he pressed STAR-7-SEND, STAR-7-SEND, STAR-7-SEND over and over again, with no results. He couldn't set the bomb off!
Frost's garage
"Yep, a bomb squad, right away, thanks. Yeah I know, I wouldn't cut any wires, I'm not stupid! Okay, thanks. Bye," Frost finished, and snapped his cell phone shut, dropping it in his pocket. He took another apprehensive look at the giant bomb that had been swapped with his firewood (Now where did all that firewood go? he wondered. That was good quality stuff.) He opened the door into his house, shut the garage light off, and walked in.
And froze in shock (again). His house had been trashed! Things were broken, dragged down off the walls, scattered across the floor, and some of the more expensive items were gone altogether.
Frost sank onto his couch, moaning. This had not been a good day. At least the plasma HDTV was still here. The Mafia must have enough of those. Frost grabbed the remote and turned it on... to see the menu of a DVD. The menu only said one thing:
YOU WERE JUST PWNED BY THE THIEF. THANK YOU, AND HAVE A NICE NIGHT.
Frost threw the remote at the TV.
Far, far above him
Cherry Lane was almost halfway down to the city now... she knew a good landing strip, a small park near the edges of Denbrain.
By now she could make out the larger roads, full of the flashing lights of late-night drivers. It was like looking at the illuminated blood vessels of some complex creature. She then flipped on her back for a bit, staring at the beautiful night sky, before turning back into a steeper dive, the wind roaring at her skin- WHAM!
She was hit hard from the side. Another glider had slammed into her! She caught a glimpse of a small rocky platform on the side of the one of the mountains, with a cave boring into the rock behind it. Someone dressed in all black leapt off the ledge and pulled his/her glider wings open, soaring right toward Cherry Lane.
She cried out in fury and pain as the other glider assailant smashed into her other side, sandwiching her between the two attackers.
She fought to break free but couldn't, those on either side of her were too strong and were holding her tightly.
"A vicious updraft caught you," one of the assailants explained. "There was nothing you could do... the wind smashed your right into the cliff wall."
Deep in Denbrain
"And let that be a message to any of the Scorpions who want to cause trouble in my sushi shop," the Oyabun hissed, sliding the long blade out of the man's neck. The Scorpion- a minor downtown airshipping gang- collapsed to the floor of the restaurant, his neck bloody. The Oyabun wiped his/her rapier off on the dead gangster's shirt, spitting on the fool. For only a fool would come into the Oyabun's turf and get drunk and insult the sushi chefs- the best sushi chefs in all of Denbrain.
The Scorpion's friend (another Scorpion) glanced at his dead buddy, back at the narrow-eyed Oyabun, and then at the door, before getting up and heading quickly for the door. All eyes in the restaurant were on him, almost mockingly. It was humiliating.
"Wait," the Oyabun drawled, sheathing the rapier at his/her side and stepping closer to the door. The Scorpion stopped and spun around- he figured it wouldn't be wise to disobey that order.
"Before you go," the Oyabun continued. "I just want to say this... to get a message out there on the streets, you know? The message is this: Fear the great Yakuza whose reach will spread, engulfing all that you Innocents ever cherished. Take note: Evil is here lurking, waiting to liquidate Noobs and strike down good."
"Ah- um, okay," stuttered the Scorpion, and ran out the door into the streets. The Oyabun grinned, and looked to the back of the shop. The Shatei was grinning too.
High up in the mountain air
"Aaaaaaahhhhh!" Cherry Lane screamed as the two gliders on either side set her on a straight course for the cliff wall. At the speed they had picked up, even if she survived she would be knocked out and severely injured, and drop the rest of the way. Ouch.
"Remember... this is a Cliff Diving accident!" grinned one of the assailants, and the two hostile gliders peeled away, leaving her to smash into the solid rock.
But she was more of an experienced cliff diver than they thought. Acting quickly, she pulled in her glider wings... the momentum and wind carried her for a few more seconds before gravity took over and she hurtled toward the city below.
The two Mafiosos look at each other, then angled themselves into a steep dive.
About ten yards beneath them, Cherry Lane opened her glider wings and soared for a nearby ledge... if only she could make it in time! She whipped her head back and saw one of the Mafia hitmen pulling a pistol out of his/her flight harness shoulder-strap. A bolt of fear paralyzed CL for a few seconds before she sensed an updraft and caught it, shooting upwards and ramming the assailant in the stomach. Her arms flew to his gun hand and grappled with him, grunting as the two spiraled in an out-of-control, willy-nilly loop through the treacherous air. The other Mafioso had drawn his/her gun but couldn't get in a good shot, the two were spinning around wildly in the air.
Oh, well, the Bankroller decided. It's worth the risk- the other guy is just a minor agent, a goon. He/she aimed his/her handgun at the whirlwind of faces and limbs and glider wings, and fired.
Cherry Lane squeezed her eyes shut after the gunshot, then opened them a few seconds later in surprise. She was alive- but covered in blood. The Mafioso's blood. The man had a startled look on his face as he glanced at the reddening bullet hole in his abdomen, to the Bankroller gliding a ways off, then back to his stomach before he let go of CL and dropped lifelessly toward the ground. CL had the wits to snatch his gun before he dropped into oblivion.
She didn't even like killing animals, but this was necessary. She whipped around and fired once, twice, three times with the Mafioso's pistol, but all three shots ricocheted off the cliff wall, chipping into the rock with the smell of burning sulfur. Where was the Bankroller?
The answer came in a fast-approaching blur that slammed Cherry Lane and rammed her against the cliff wall, sandwiched between the Bankroller and the cold rock. Her ribs were crushed into powder instantly, her skull plates denting inwards and her lungs bursting from the impact. The Bankroller- a bit shaken himself/herself- pulled away, watching CL's body tumble into the void. It would probably land in the dense foliage that eventually sloped down into the city.
Without another glance, the Bankroller tipped gracefully toward Denbrain, spiraling down to land. The Mafia had a glider-runway on a warehouse roof that he/she used often.
When the Bankroller emerged from the warehouse, he/she was wearing his/her famous black leather gloves and was holding a small envelope. The Bankroller adjusted his/her suit and walked off into the night.
Street corner
"Tacos... tacos..." mumbled the Street Vendor exhaustedly.
"Shut up if you know what's good for you," came a voice from behind him/her. The Street Vendor spun around nervously.
"Who- who's there?" they stammered, peering through the darkness. The Bankroller stepped out of the shadows, a gun held in his/her hand.
"Uh-oh," gulped the SV. "Are you gonna dispatch me? Please don't! I may be an Innocent, but I can help you guys too! C'mon! Please!"
"Oh, we could dispatch any time," seethed the Bankroller. "Including now... but we won't. At least not yet. You are of use to us- remember, we let you set up your little stand here. We own these streets!"
"Yes, yes, I remember," the SV said, bobbing his/her head quickly, ready to agree with anything the Bankroller said.
"Good," grinned the Bankroller. "You have contacts, you know how to pass along a message to us. You see everything that goes on at night... and we want in on the information."
"Uh-huh," the SV agreed quickly.
"Sooo," the Bankroller hissed, handing the white envelope to the Street Vendor. "This is a message for Denbrain.... from the Mafia."
As the Bankroller left, the Street Vendor slit open the envelope and withdrew the letter:
Greetings from the Mafia! How’s everyone doing? Hopefully better than Cherry Lane!
We have a few things that we want done. Obviously there WILL be problems, IF our demands are not met.
1st- Strangely enough, we figured out who the GR is on the first night! Amazing huh? We’re not bluffing! So here’s the deal. If you all Lynch the SB for us today (Tolecnal) then tomorrow night we will give you the Reaper’s identity. Think about it, if you wanted to you could let him/her live through the day so the Ninja can have His/Her epic battle that night! That’s what we would like to see. You can be sure of the GR's identity, when we give you the name tonight and you lynch him/her tomorrow. This deal that we are offering Sounds like a bargain to us! Heck, we may even throw in a Yakuza!
2nd- If you do NOT lynch the SB, then not only will the GR live, but we will kill the SV along with another innocent, AND the GR will kill, AND the Yakuza, AND we will give a target for the QAs to meet up. TRUST US, this is in everyone’s best interest!
3rd- To the SV. Please PM ASAP! There are three things we would like from you.
- Every detail about what the Janitor did last night.
- The role of the person that died last night.
- Your identity (this is the best thing for us all, that way we don’t accidentally kill you!)
*Remember, if you lie to us, EVEN ONCE… you’re dead IMMEDIATELY. BTW, we have a question here, which will determine whether you are lying or telling the truth. So play it safe and tell us the truth. We can place a question to which we know the answer or we can just leave it at that.
4th- This is supposed to be the part where we announce to you who we are going to kill tomorrow night. Good news! We have decided against it at this point b/c we do not know who the SV is, and we don’t want to hurt our little buddy.
**I know everyone is now thinking, “Why should be believe that they will actually give us the GR?” good question. Because the Mafia deals in favors, you scratch our backs we scratch yours. If you take care of this for us, we’ll stick to our word and work out another deal for the following day. Maybe a QA if we find one, or maybe a Yakuza.
-Remember, you are buying protection from these other baddies. As long as you keep paying us, you'll have less to worry about. Make a choice: Do you want Mafia/GR/Yakuza AND QA's combined on your back? or only the Mafia? If you trust us, it will be the latter. So choose wisely and help us.
-Also Remember- "If the SB is lynched, they'll be PMed a prompt if they want to blow someone up at the lynching, otherwise it's a normal lynching." The innocents do not have to worry about being blown up when the SB is lynched, unless Tolecnal seriously wants to risk killing a fellow innocent.
The Street Vendor, quivering a bit, folded up the letter. He/she would drop it off anonymously at the Town Square in the coming day, and the Innocents as a whole could decide what to do.
"Tacos?" the Street Vendor asked hopefully, one more time, before packing up his/her stand and heading home.
***
Host: Unreality
1) GC
2) Frozen
3) Frost
4) Brandonb
5) Dawh
6) Ysan
7) LIS
8) Clueless
9) Twoaday
10) Cherry Lane - DEAD [?] Killed by Mafia
11) Johnson
12) Puzzlegirl
13) ROF
14) Mekal
15) Rene
16) CrazyPainter
17) Pw0nzd
18) Dusty
19) LM
20) Dnae
21) Tolecnal