Dusk 1
Meridian Hotel Ballroom 2 - Sapphire
By this time, supergarlic was probably quaking in his boots as Pasonia cocked several rifles ready. He knew it; one wrong move and everyone starts piling up on him. Some see it as a signal, some see it as opportunistic.
"Pick a rifle, say your prayer," said Pasonia, in a tone that, to most, didn't seem like it belonged to him anymore.
(supergarlic, you're allowed to pick a gun, and, well, add in any last words you might have.)
Following supergarlic's last wish, Pasonia complied, and, taking up the rifle that supergarlic chose, began to drill many bullet rounds in quick succession. This instinctively caused some of the other players to yelp/duck for cover/scream/holler/go mad. After a while, the bullets stopped flying around, the ruckus stopped, and all that remains at center stage is a bloody mess of blood and innards that was previously supergarlic's.
"Well, you guys decide what you want to do at night, but there's a few things I want you guys to note."
Everybody paid full attention to his words.
"There's a telephone system out there. You guys have been designated rooms and such, and you are even given numbers to dial. However, that's as far as it goes. I don't want any of you shmucks to muck around and give me shit with the wolves, so I'll personally lock your doors and windows. If you must move, you have to be qualified."
Pasonia cleared his throat a bit. "I know it's a bit unsettling, but, rest assured I'll do my best to make you panic only if I have to. Screaming people is the last thing I want in a situation that doesn't warrant for that. I've spoken too much; you can see now it's about 6.45pm, so I want you guys to hustle to your rooms, on the double!"
Within a minute, the Ballroom was vacated. When he reassured himself that he was in the clear, he began the Night routine.
Night One begins now.
Meridian Hotel Ballroom 2 - Sapphire
By this time, supergarlic was probably quaking in his boots as Pasonia cocked several rifles ready. He knew it; one wrong move and everyone starts piling up on him. Some see it as a signal, some see it as opportunistic.
"Pick a rifle, say your prayer," said Pasonia, in a tone that, to most, didn't seem like it belonged to him anymore.
(supergarlic, you're allowed to pick a gun, and, well, add in any last words you might have.)
Following supergarlic's last wish, Pasonia complied, and, taking up the rifle that supergarlic chose, began to drill many bullet rounds in quick succession. This instinctively caused some of the other players to yelp/duck for cover/scream/holler/go mad. After a while, the bullets stopped flying around, the ruckus stopped, and all that remains at center stage is a bloody mess of blood and innards that was previously supergarlic's.
"Well, you guys decide what you want to do at night, but there's a few things I want you guys to note."
Everybody paid full attention to his words.
"There's a telephone system out there. You guys have been designated rooms and such, and you are even given numbers to dial. However, that's as far as it goes. I don't want any of you shmucks to muck around and give me shit with the wolves, so I'll personally lock your doors and windows. If you must move, you have to be qualified."
Pasonia cleared his throat a bit. "I know it's a bit unsettling, but, rest assured I'll do my best to make you panic only if I have to. Screaming people is the last thing I want in a situation that doesn't warrant for that. I've spoken too much; you can see now it's about 6.45pm, so I want you guys to hustle to your rooms, on the double!"
Within a minute, the Ballroom was vacated. When he reassured himself that he was in the clear, he began the Night routine.
Night One begins now.