Night 2
We have to do something,
the low voice said. We have a lot of ground to make up. They found themselves pacing in a back room, trying to decide what the best strategy was. They needed to take over this town and they were running out of time to do so.
"There's always the iridium," came the gravelly voice. "But it comes at such a price. Is it worth it?"
Brows furrowed. They had left the iridium alone, keeping it for emergencies. Truthfully, they hadn't really thought about it much - it just seemed like too much of a risk. But now, they gingerly placed it on the table, studying it.
Did they want to pursue it? What would it cost?
Everything.
Their eyes locked and they both gave a small nod. They knew what they had to do.
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There were a lot of assumptions being thrown around the island. The islanders knew they were surrounded by soup connoisseurs and soup saboteurs, but weren't sure whomst fell where on the scale. They had quickly identified that a grumpy old man who placed "help wanted" posters asking for quartz, but then got mad if you actually gave him quartz as a gift, was not there for the benefit of the budding young village. Lightning doesn't have tastebuds, so they knew that storm was sus as heck. But did things really work the way they thought they did? And were people taking advantage of those assuming they understood how things worked because perhaps some people knew otherwise?
And just what the heck were these walnuts? What were you supposed to do with them?
The islanders had tried a multitude of tricks with the walnuts. Stepping on them, bribing parrots with them,
juicing them (the delicacy of walnut juice is favored by bots, I've heard), smashing them on the floor, smashing them against heads, planting them ... but none of it seemed to do anything. Perplexed and frustrated noises roiled the village. Even though the nuts were hypoallergenic, no one trusted them. Where were they even coming from, and what relevance did they have?
One person had unlocked the secret to the walnuts. She kept it to herself, uncertain of whether what she had discovered was real or just a fever dream. Sometimes, the fumes from bleaching her hair to dye it blue really got to her, and she just wasn't sure she believed what she had seen.
She mulled it over while traveling. She didn't feel safe at her house and abandoned her farming for the night to go get some good ol' fashioned R&R at the resort. She returned home after the morning sun was over the horizon, lighting up the farm. She stepped onto her front porch, noticing that some things seemed just slightly out of place. But maybe she was just misremembering, or her mind was playing tricks on her. She hadn't been home. She didn't let anyone in. It had to be that she was seeing things ... right?
She waited to open the door until hearing the roosters crow in the distance, marking the end of the night officially. She sighed in relief, swinging it open, and stepping on the trap that had been laid, waiting for her to get home and ready to detonate at any moment.
The secret of the walnuts went with her to the grave.
Dead is...
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"I don't make factory farms," he grumbled to himself, trying to buy the store out of wheat and planning how he was going to save up all his money to start a pig empire. "I just maximize efficiency. No one understands me. They say I'm just a kid and I don't get it, oh yeah? Well I get it a lot more than you grownups do."
He was an exceptionally precocious child, sometimes getting himself into trouble in the process. His sarcasm often became amusing after the fact. He'd known that Jas didn't feel right - that the shocks sometimes coming off of her were more than just static. And when he'd voted for her to get on the train and faced suspicion himself, he'd just shrugged and said "is that the game we're playing?" while stubbornly refusing to move. The more people pushed him to do something, the less inclined he was to do it - which was clear from his adamant, and wildly incorrect, take that breakfast for dinner wasn't a good thing. What kind of kid was he?
But even he had seen the light eventually and realized that certain pancakes made for really good dinners.
Not waffles, though. He didn't believe in those for dinners or for ends of days.
He hadn't had many opportunities for trickery yet. He enjoyed a good game of chess and hadn't really found anyone to play with yet, although he was looking. His latest prank amused him, but he didn't know yet if it had worked or not. He whistled quietly to himself, but paused when the sounds of the birds drowned him out. That was so unusual. Of course, there were birds here and there, but they weren't usually this loud.
What did it mean?
The idyllic island was disrupted by a horrifying scream and a swirl of feathers. They found him in the morning, still and cold on the ground, never to be the 5D grandmaster again.
Dead is...
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Tensions rose. They didn't understand. How and why had this happened? What could they do to stop it? What other terrifying things lurked in the shadows?
The wind carried a whisper of someone's spoken word, echoing from far away.
"Everything..."
13 players remain.
1.
@potentialsheltervet
3.
@alleycat03
5.
@Clem J
7.
@WildZoo
7.7
@Stagg737
8.
@SARdoghandler
11.
@lucy.
12.
@JaggedJimmyJay
13.
@Barkley13
14.
@miranda920
17.
@Lawpy
18.
@genny
>.
@NateTheLesser
Returned to Stardew Valley:
10.
@mightyrunner7, George,
WOLF vanillizer
9.
@bluestoat, Pierre,
neutral 3p
4.
@Viscernable, Lightning,
Electric WOLF
2.
@Animal Midwife, Abigail, village one-shot vigilante
21.
@Santygrass, Krobus, village odd night hider
16.
@samac, Emily,
village every other night commuter
6.
@Zenge142, Vincent,
village even night redirector
Sidecars:
1.
@PlumPoppy
2.
@futuredogtor614
3.
@motheatenlysis
4.
@matthirten13
Subs:
1.
@mkg323
2.
@dyachei
3.
@SportPonies
Tots:
1.
@justafluff
2.
@Ms Procrastinator
3.
@chicandtoughness
4.
@marmot`
It is now Day 3. Vote closes at 10 PM CDT tomorrow, 3/21 (~36 hours).