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SC2 Eleventh Rolls

Posted by The Yugetnam War (Global Moderators) at Feb 14 2018, 11:59 PM. 8 comments

Happy Valentine's Day, everyone :)

The eligible bachelors and bachelorettes:
1. Scarlett McAfee (Primrosette)
2. Roy Benson (Pippin)
3. Miranda Millers (KamiKaze)
4. Natali Greer (Somersault)

Rolling Logs

As always, three days for cards:

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And ten days for (non-extended) deaths:

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As always, remember to be courteous in chat by not gloating about not getting rolled, and not sending unsolicited kill offers.

PV3 Prologue Timescale Update

Posted by Namira (Admins) at Feb 12 2018, 08:17 AM. 0 comments

Attention, handlers:

Due to current pacing, the holidays, and the opening of V7, we're going to slightly extend Prologue phases. The current phase (Phase 2) will end on either February 28, 2018, or March 15, 2018. Thereafter, the remaining two phases will each last roughly six weeks, up from the initially-allotted month.


Staff Team

SC2 Fifth Announcement

Posted by MurderWeasel (Admins) at Feb 2 2018, 04:30 AM. 6 comments

Wednesday, June 14, 2017, 11:45 P.M.: Toronto, Ontario


“-still no official word from Washington on the possible link between the disappearances and the 2012 incident-”


“-searching the southern US border and into the Gulf for any sign of-”


“-survivor Nicholas Reid was unavailable for comment-”

Click. The TV blinked off and Adam set the remote aside with a sigh.

You couldn’t get away from the news lately, even on the opposite end of the continent from where the US government was carrying out its searches. Locals were even on-edge; New Jersey was practically next door, as far as the United States went. Most schools in the area had let out by now though, and Adam occupied a comfortable middle ground between the ages of any kids who could relate to the missing New Jersey students and any parents who would lay awake at night wondering what might happen to their own teenagers. Awful as the possibilities for those kids were, he shouldn’t have been losing any sleep over it.

He’d always been an over-thinker, though, and with the whirlwind of breaking news throughout the week, Adam hadn’t been able to get the kidnapping—and they were acknowledging that it was probably a kidnapping now, even with no notice from the kidnappers to show for it yet—out of his head. Which was why he was still sitting on his couch watching late-night TV and working his way through a six-pack instead of laying comfortably in his bed and snuggling his hot girlfriend, like any normal guy in his mid-twenties would be. Adam let out a derisive snort at his own self-deprecation.

There was nothing good on TV—hardly anything on at all right now besides more depressing news—and he was down to his last beer. Time to turn in with the aforementioned hot girlfriend instead of wallowing in other people’s misery, even if he wouldn’t be able to sleep.

He stood and stretched, grunting as his back popped. Not as young as he used to be, for sure. Turning geriatric at the ripe old age of 28, and any future children still a hypothetical twinkle in his eye, if that. Nothing that should keep him dwelling on what might be happening to people he would never know. He gathered up his empty beer cans and shuffled into the kitchen to deposit them in the trash before making the journey back through the living room and to the bedroom. He tried to move quietly and mostly succeeded; five and a half beers left him buzzed, but not enough that he would need to turn the lights on to navigate. City lights filtered in through the closed blinds, leaving the apartment washed in muted gray and blue.

Adam made it almost to the bed without incident and then stubbed his toe on a stray pair of shoes that he had left on the floor and forgotten about.

“Ow, shit!”

He clapped a hand over his mouth, but it was too late. There was a stirring of movement from the bed, and Adam sighed.

Carefully picking his way in case further obstacles made themselves known, Adam reached the bed and slid under the covers.

“Sorry,” he whispered. He received a half-asleep grunt and a light swat to the shoulder in reply. A minute of adjusting later, he settled his head onto his pillow with a sigh. Despite the alcohol and the late hour, he still felt wide awake.

Adam stared at the wall, watching the occasional patch of light from cars outside float across it. He lay still for what felt like a long time, but when he glanced at the digital clock on his bedside table, he saw to his dismay that it hadn’t even been half an hour. He sighed in frustration—louder than he should have, judging by the movement at his side.

“What’s the matter with you?” Amanda’s voice was still slurred with sleep as she rolled over to blink at him.

“Sorry,” he said again. “Just… got a lot on my mind, I guess.”

“Toldja to stop watching the news.”

“I know, I know, I just… I dunno. I just keep wondering about stuff. Like... do you ever think about what things might have been like if your dad ever made it big in politics? He might’ve had to deal with shit like that.”

Amanda sighed this time, folding her hands underneath her head and giving Adam a thoughtful look through the darkness.

“I don’t think about it much,” she admitted. “I don’t know. In hindsight, I guess I’m a little relieved he decided to stick with the law firm after the first time didn’t work out. Might’ve been harder to emigrate to be with my dumb boyfriend if my dad was some government kook.” She gave him a smile with a teasing edge to conceal its fondness.

Adam snorted.

“Boyfriend, huh? Bet he’s not good enough for you.” He wrapped one arm around her waist to pull her close, and they tangled comfortably together. Amanda rubbed his back.

“I try to focus on the things that I can change, and to not worry about the things that I can’t,” she said. “You try it, and maybe you’ll get some sleep.”

“Yeah,” Adam muttered.

Sooner rather than later, Amanda’s breathing had deepened and slowed as she drifted back off to sleep. Adam kept staring at the wall, thoughts racing despite Amanda’s advice. Sometimes you just couldn’t help but wonder about things, even if they had nothing to do with you.

He kept wondering, but the early hours of the morning crept peacefully up on Toronto, and eventually, Adam Dodd slept.

Thursday, June 15, 2017, 9:00 A.M.: Undisclosed Location

Almost a week in, now. Victor Danya wasn’t surprised that a few more troublemakers had reared their heads in the past day, but he was equally unsurprised that their efforts had come to nothing of consequence. He wasn’t in the business of making sloppy mistakes.

Besides, by this point… well, by the time any outside attention was drawn to the island, it was likely that Danya and his guests would be done with all that they needed to do.

The now-familiar sound of the island’s speakers crackling to life filled the air.

“Good morning once again, kids,” Danya began, “and congratulations to those of you who can hear me for lasting almost one whole week on our lovely little vacation island! I know the work week can be long, but don’t fret; Friday is just around the corner. Of course, before we can celebrate the arrival of the weekend, we’ll need to go over who won’t be seeing it.

“This morning’s Darwin Award goes to Natalie Chauncey, who thought that it would be a good idea to try climbing down the side of the ravine and shortly thereafter became seagull food.

“In much more exciting news, we had a lovely little Last Supper down at the tar pits. First, Wendy Fischer took out Felicia LaChapelle and Sophie McDowell with some poisoned soup, and then Irene Djezari bagged some big game by harpooning James Mulzet.

"And finally, Christopher Schwartz took a dive off the cliffs in a quieter moment. Unfortunately, it looks like nobody else has decided to take any action, leaving us with a very slow news day. I'm quite disappointed, children. If it weren't for a few of your suicidal classmates or a select number of this island's female population taking the initiative, we might have had to activate all of your collars. Where would the fun be in that?"

A low chuckle emanated after a brief pause. The truth was, the announcement had been finalized maybe an hour and a half ago, and even then a number of edge cases had been withheld; in all likelihood, the actual death count was slightly higher than what had been officially tallied. Still, this was a fair warning, a reminder for all of them to continue picking up the pace, to avoid getting lax in the final stretch.

"I'm afraid that's all the news we have for today. I'm sure you kids will be able to follow up with some more action tomorrow."

Things looked like they were beginning to wind down as the numbers dwindled ever further. A drop in the death rate was to be expected, but Danya didn't want to drag things out; every day here was a new risk, after all. Fortunately, the power to push motivating forces towards each other was just a few buttons away.

"And, of course, no announcement is complete without getting some of you moving. Your school system's physical education is notoriously bad—really, they should be thanking me.

"The Coastal Woods, Field of Flowers, and Lake are all open to you again. However, The Lighthouse, The Scorched Ruin, and The Showers remain off-limits, and they'll be joined by The Shipping Yard, The Tunnels, The Parish, The Cliffs, The Old Warehouse, and The Ravine. It's time to get close and act like you love each other. Or kill each other faster! That one works for me, personally.

"As always, have a great day and break a leg—your own or somebody else's, as the urge strikes you. I'll speak to those of you still around tomorrow."

The speakers clicked off with a note of finality.

Day Six (Thursday, June 15, 2017) 09:00 A.M.
Weather: The rain from yesterday has stopped, and the day remains overcast and cool. By evening, sporadic sunlight appears through the clouds. The night sky is partly cloudy, but clearing. The moon is now a waning crescent.

The rolls:
1. Theodore "Theo" Fletcher (Empress Plush)
2. Kyran Dean (Cake)
3. Yumi Nunes (Aura Master Fox)


Three days for cards and normal DZ activity:
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And a further seven for deaths and exit posts:
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Special thanks to a certain Cactus for authorization for the fluff featured here.

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