Night 5
Forward. Onward. We talk about one direction as we move in another. Who is leading? Do we have a leader? What would make a good leader?
Courage. Being able to stand by your convictions and face your enemies. Being able to take the necessary course of action, however unpopular it may be. Being able to project hope to those that have lost it.
Integrity. Meaning what you say, doing what you set out to do. Never straying from your ultimate position. Always remembering what the right thing to do is.
Deception. Rally those around you, convincing them that your ideas are also theirs. Control the majority under your own ideals. Lead an army with whatever path you've created.
Fearmongering. Eliminate freedoms under the guise of security. Give privileges in the guise of freedom. Revoke privileges from the sympathetic and uncooperative; the justifications for security are already in place.
Rearward. Backward. We talk of avoiding one direction as we alienate another. Nobody is leading. We don't have a leader.
I would make a good leader.
Shouldabout has become somewhat of a slum; most residents had abandoned their homes and businesses in exchange for their safety. The remaining townsfolk pressed on, knowing that the mafia would soon be eliminated. And their willingness to stay is justified: several of the mafia had themselves fled after the fall of a couple prominent leaders. What remained, however, still do not intend to vacate so swiftly.
An alarm rang softly on Main Street. Petty crime was still abound, and burglary was a particular favorite. One person makes a fast buck at the expense of another's business. It was an individual operation, though very well executed; the remainder of the Shouldabout Police Department found nothing left behind to determine a culprit.
Murder was also still prevalent in Shouldabout.
After a few drinks, the man left The Tank and stumbled his way back home. He noticed the front door was ajar; someone was there. He pushed it open slowly, looking through the dark entryway for any sign of disturbance. "Hmph, a burglar, perhaps?" he thought to himself. It seemed like a bad idea to go inside, but perhaps his intoxication impeded his judgement, as he walked in and silently shut the door behind him. It was completely dark, so the intruder couldn't possibly see him just as he couldn't see his intruder. The man stood there for a while, eyes closed, listening for any type of sound.
Breathing. He could hear it faintly: a calm, slow breath down the hall. Presumably the two were facing each other, but the ever so dark house made them invisible from each other. "He's just standing there. He's waiting. For me." The man grabbed the coat hanger by him; it was a mostly-decorative object, but it certainly served as a decent weapon. The man took several steps forward, pointing it in front of him.
"The coat hangar," the intruder said from across the room.
The man froze. "Can he see me? Night vision, perhaps?" He paused to listen for the intruder to make a move, but was met with silence. "No, probably heard me pick it up is all." "Who are you?" Silence. "I can't take the chance. If he can see me, I'm only handicapping myself by having the lights out." He decided to make a hasty move: as he threw the coat hangar in the direction of his foe, the man also made a quick dash for the lights.
"Loses the coat hangar, turns on the lights," remarked the invader as the coat hangar is heard hitting the carpet.
The man hit the switch for the lights and stared down the hallway. To his horror, all that was there was a tape recorder attached to the wall, playing a prerecorded message.
"Sees tape recorder, starts panicking," the message played.
The man frantically searched the room, raising his fists in the process. "Who are you?!" It was the only phrase that was running through his mind at the moment. How could someone predict him so accurately?
The message continued on the last of its tape. "I am the future of this town. A future that does not include you, Generalpie." There were four additional seconds of silence at the end of the tape, followed by a soft sound of the film tugging at its last spin before the recorder stopped entirely.
Day 5 begins. Cast your vote by Monday, November 12th, 11:59PM Eastern.
Forward. Onward. We talk about one direction as we move in another. Who is leading? Do we have a leader? What would make a good leader?
Courage. Being able to stand by your convictions and face your enemies. Being able to take the necessary course of action, however unpopular it may be. Being able to project hope to those that have lost it.
Integrity. Meaning what you say, doing what you set out to do. Never straying from your ultimate position. Always remembering what the right thing to do is.
Deception. Rally those around you, convincing them that your ideas are also theirs. Control the majority under your own ideals. Lead an army with whatever path you've created.
Fearmongering. Eliminate freedoms under the guise of security. Give privileges in the guise of freedom. Revoke privileges from the sympathetic and uncooperative; the justifications for security are already in place.
Rearward. Backward. We talk of avoiding one direction as we alienate another. Nobody is leading. We don't have a leader.
I would make a good leader.
Shouldabout has become somewhat of a slum; most residents had abandoned their homes and businesses in exchange for their safety. The remaining townsfolk pressed on, knowing that the mafia would soon be eliminated. And their willingness to stay is justified: several of the mafia had themselves fled after the fall of a couple prominent leaders. What remained, however, still do not intend to vacate so swiftly.
An alarm rang softly on Main Street. Petty crime was still abound, and burglary was a particular favorite. One person makes a fast buck at the expense of another's business. It was an individual operation, though very well executed; the remainder of the Shouldabout Police Department found nothing left behind to determine a culprit.
Murder was also still prevalent in Shouldabout.
After a few drinks, the man left The Tank and stumbled his way back home. He noticed the front door was ajar; someone was there. He pushed it open slowly, looking through the dark entryway for any sign of disturbance. "Hmph, a burglar, perhaps?" he thought to himself. It seemed like a bad idea to go inside, but perhaps his intoxication impeded his judgement, as he walked in and silently shut the door behind him. It was completely dark, so the intruder couldn't possibly see him just as he couldn't see his intruder. The man stood there for a while, eyes closed, listening for any type of sound.
Breathing. He could hear it faintly: a calm, slow breath down the hall. Presumably the two were facing each other, but the ever so dark house made them invisible from each other. "He's just standing there. He's waiting. For me." The man grabbed the coat hanger by him; it was a mostly-decorative object, but it certainly served as a decent weapon. The man took several steps forward, pointing it in front of him.
"The coat hangar," the intruder said from across the room.
The man froze. "Can he see me? Night vision, perhaps?" He paused to listen for the intruder to make a move, but was met with silence. "No, probably heard me pick it up is all." "Who are you?" Silence. "I can't take the chance. If he can see me, I'm only handicapping myself by having the lights out." He decided to make a hasty move: as he threw the coat hangar in the direction of his foe, the man also made a quick dash for the lights.
"Loses the coat hangar, turns on the lights," remarked the invader as the coat hangar is heard hitting the carpet.
The man hit the switch for the lights and stared down the hallway. To his horror, all that was there was a tape recorder attached to the wall, playing a prerecorded message.
"Sees tape recorder, starts panicking," the message played.
The man frantically searched the room, raising his fists in the process. "Who are you?!" It was the only phrase that was running through his mind at the moment. How could someone predict him so accurately?
The message continued on the last of its tape. "I am the future of this town. A future that does not include you, Generalpie." There were four additional seconds of silence at the end of the tape, followed by a soft sound of the film tugging at its last spin before the recorder stopped entirely.
Day 5 begins. Cast your vote by Monday, November 12th, 11:59PM Eastern.
Learn how EUDs work: A Mapmaker's Guide for Creating EUDs
Don't like learning?: EUDGen 2
Other stuff: Farlap Bound Maker
Dash: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 X
Jog: Original Warp
Other: Super Mario SC Fireball Guard Your Civilian Strength Contest
Don't like learning?: EUDGen 2
Other stuff: Farlap Bound Maker
Dash: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 X
Jog: Original Warp
Other: Super Mario SC Fireball Guard Your Civilian Strength Contest
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