Rain patters against the window like a tap dancer with Parkinson's. The streetlamp outside shoots beams of light through the smoky air filling my office, illuminating walls and furniture in the little strips that get through the window shades. I'm Splint Chesthair, private eye. Sleuthing is my business, and right now I'm between cases. I've given up trying to sleep when it rains, so I sit here, waiting for something to walk through the front door. In the meantime, I've got a cigarette and a flask to keep me company, and that's all the friends a guy could ask for.

Alive and Kicking:
ThatOneGuy
Shadowflare
Scribe
Silk
Piper
FD2
MediaChild
Calvinball
Crimson Knight
Spider

Sleeping with the fishes:
Mazenzo

Rules:
1. Follow Whisper’s Terms of Service.
2. Do not directly quote your role PM, or any other PMs from me.
3. The dead don’t talk, sweetheart. No posting after you've been knocked off.
4. No private messages, unless your role specifically allows them. This is film noir, stuff is supposed to be confusing, and PMs undermine that.
5. Talking at night is not only allowed, but actively encouraged. This city never sleeps, and neither should you toots.
6. Any other standard mafia rules I can’t think of right now. Google them if you don’t know, or ask the regulars.

Notes:
1. The flavor text will be plentiful, but don’t expect it to cover everything that happens. There are plenty of alleyways and closed doors, and you can’t know everything that happens in the city.
2. Read your role PM carefully. PM back if you have any questions, no one should be going into this confused about who they are.
3. I try to stay as true to form as possible, but it is hard to accurately replicate an ENTIRE GENRE. There are going to be some sacrifices made to fit it into mafia format.
4. Vote counts are by request, and also whenever I feel like it.
5. Once the lynch threshold has been met, unvoting has no effect. On a related note, please indicate clearly when you vote. I prefer the formatting: Vote: CJ and Unvote: CJ. If you don’t unvote before voting again, that’s a huge headache for me and I might modkill you out of frustration. I am not a kind god.
6. It is possible that I will mess up. If you think this is so, PM me, and I will tell you whether or not I have made a mistake. If I have, I will post a correction publicly in this thread.
7. If you have any questions, please PM me.

It is now Day 1.

Confirmination

The words were in English. They got confused. :p

It really doesn't matter you guys, so long as you confirm somewhere.

My internet is going to be SUPER spotty for the next three days, so I won't be able to do much, although I shouldn't be doing much to begin with anyway this early on. I should have a stable connection after that.

Turns out I've found some free wifi. Woo!

Someone prod Calvinball, he's the only one who still needs to confirm. In the meantime, talk away! Oh, and send night actions.

NIGHT 0 ACTIONS
Shadowflare - > Mazenzo
Calvinball -> Shadowflare
Scribe -> Calvinball

And it was going to be such a pleasant night. I'd just settled in with my flask and a few cigs and although I needed dough, I needed shuteye more. MY peepers were just getting reacquainted with their wrappers when this Dame walks in. She carried herself well, but not too well, like a juggler carrying a greased-up watermelon. She had a half-finished cigarette in hand, which was perplexing as she had another half-finished cig in her mouth. "You're a detective, right?" When she spoke, her voice was like a peach, soft and juicy and... uh, peach-colored. What she said next made me think she had a job for me.

"I have a job for you," she said. It's sluething like this that makes me the best in the business.
"What is it, toots?" I replied, trying to sound as hardboiled as possible.
"Well, my brother kicked the bucket last week. They claimed his heart took an unscheduled vacation. But something about it sounds fishy to me. I think he was offed, and someone tried to cover it up real nice." She seemed a little uneasy, though that's pretty normal if omeone close to you takes The Big Sleep unexpectedly.
"Okay, so you want me to try and find the real story. Did your brother have many enemies?"
"I dont think so, he ran the local Red Cross chapter, and volunteered at a soup kitchen in his free time."
"Sounds like he had a sweet heart, sweetheart," I quipped.
"You could say that, I gue-"
"He was a real angel, angel," I muttered.
"What are you-"
"Sounds like he wouldn't harm a kitten, kitten," I said real cool-like.
"Stop it!" Sounds like I had hid the peach's core. "Yeah, he was a saint, okay? No more wordplay!"
"You got it. So what's my cut?" I tried to look as much like Humphrey Bogart as I could.
"Fine, if money's your bottom line. I can shell out fifty clams."
"I'll need a little more lettuce, honey."
"I could maybe do sixty."
"Not enough dough. I usually won't work for less than a benjamin," she looked crestfallen. You know, she really was quite pretty, and the job sounded interesting enough. "...But for you I'll do 65."
She lit back up. "Thanks a bunch, this means a lot to me."
"Clearly." I got up. "What's your brother's name, and where do you suggest I start?"
"He went by Dick Byrd." Damn, his name was so much more noir than mine. "And try talking to old man Shadowflare, my brother was leasing a room from him."

Ah, Shadowflare. I didn't know too much about this cat, he kept to himself most of the time. First I hit up Gumshoe O'Callahan, head copper and my ex-boss, to see what I could learn about this Dick Byrd fellow.
"Chesthair!" He cried. He always seems so happy to see me. "You owe me a box of cigars!"
"That I do, chief. I'll get it to you pronto. In the meantime, cold you tell me what you know about Dick Byrd?"
"Well, I can tell you right off the bat it's an awesome name."
"I know, right?"
"But now that you mention it, I do know a little about him. He turned up with a bad case of death a few days ago, looksl ike his heart went on strike. Shame, the guy was a saint."
"Think there was any foul play?"
"I'd never rule out the possibility, but there was no evidence of any dastardly deeds at the scene."
"Where'd it happen?"
"His apartment."
"All right, I'm going to go check it out. I'm going to hit up old man Shadowflare while I'm up there, see what he knows."
"Do you mind if I send a few of my boys with you? I've got an interest in searching his place."
I cocked my eyebrow. "Oh really?"
"Yeah, we think he's been dodging taxes. We're just looking for anything that might indicate something more serious."
"Well, come with yourself, I could use the company."
Gumshoe grimaced. "Can't, need to investigate the death of this MAzenzo character. He was running a speakeasy, got on the wrong side of the mob."

So Callahan's elbows and I headed over to the old apartment. Just as he said, the place was clean as a whistle. Too clean for my liking. I went up the stairs to Shadowflare's apartment on the top floor. I was greeted by a butler. "Please come in, monsieur Flare will be right with you."
This apartment was cush. Comfy chairs were plentiful, and I could see a pool table in the next room. Additionally, the butler was wearing a solid silver suit of armor. After a few minutes, Shadowflare emerged. Despite the fineries covering every surface of the apartment, he was just wearing a regular suit.
"Yes, can I help you gentlemen?"
"The name's Splint Chesthair. I'm investigating the death of Dick Byrd."
"Ah," Shadowflare's eyes smiled. "Now that was a good kid. So kind, so generous. Awesome name."
"Indeed. Do you know if Mr. Byrd had any enemies?"
Shadowflare's brow furrowed. "I don't think so, he was nice to a fault. Always bending over backwards for everyone around him. If anything about him was even remotely aggravating, it was his incessant bird-based puns. He never stopped with them."
Dammit, he's even got me beat in sounding hardboiled. I quizzed him about a few other things, but he had nothing but nice things to say about the man. We left the apartment, and I gathered my thoughts. This Shadowflare fellow had a sleazy air about him, he definitely seemed like scum. He was too nice, too friendly, too willing to help. He's got something to hide, but I don't know what.

On the way out of the building, a tall guy started running at me. The elbows whipped out some pieces, and the shadowy figure reached into his pocket, probably to get a heater of his own, and the boys opened fire. Their slugs hit nothing but air though, as the man disappeared into a back alley. Maybe this thing was bigger than the dame was letting on.

Mazenzo, the Speakeasy owner, is DEAD
Splint thinks Shadowflare is SCUM
It is now Day 1.

Uh, are we /supposed/ to be able to see who did what to whom?

Because if so, this is going to be a very short game.

Umm...?

Vote: Shadowflare

Well, this is an interesting game setup, especially considering the fact that I didn't target anyone last night. You'll notice how the flavor text doesn't say that I killed Mazenzo. It's clear that CJ is trying something sneaky here, otherwise there's no reason to publish night actions. If I had killed Mazenzo, I would CJ would have made it clear in the description that I had, but the story omits that, and contains only a suspicion, based on...something???

I'm confused. :/

Scum could have a driver. They can switch two people's actions around. And while I have nothing to support it, I'm going to work under that assumption until more information presents itself.

I am not pleased. Hurrumph. *returns to the dead*

Ummm...



I'm guess this is probably BS. Maybe. But why include it?

vote: Shadowflare

He's featured in the flavor text, and fingered at the end. Whether or not he actually killed Mazenzo doesn't matter, because he's still our best lead. Also, depending upon Shadow's role, we get to learn how reliable CJ's morning descriptions are.

Sorry dude, sounds like bullshit. Gotta trust the writeup for now, and when you're dead, we can see if you were lying.

I don't see a reason not to vote for Shadow.