Places to Chat
SPECTRUM 2
Chatterbox: Pudding's Place
SPECTRUM 2
SPECTRUM 2
This is another game of spectrum! The rules are posted in a thread called "Game-ish Idea", and don't forget to check on the 2nd page for rules about the murder phase!
I think this time around, the game will run more smoothly, so I'm looking forward to starting! As always, I'll be the gamemaster, and I will post more once 6 players join. Thanks!
submitted by Pete the Trollslayer
(September 16, 2015 - 8:09 pm)
(September 16, 2015 - 8:09 pm)
The brick washes away to sea, and the "bird" falls off the tree, and a coconut bops Yellow on the head. They fall over backwards, unconcious. There goes a life!
(September 19, 2015 - 11:05 am)
As I trot across the sandy shore, I catch a glimpse of Danie, standing on a dune with her back turned to me. I keep walking, repeating in my head "innocent until proven guilty, innocent until proven guilty..." I'm so focused on thinking about the... er... "incident" that I almost trip over something half buried in the sand. A clue, perhaps?
I look around for something to dig it up with, but there's nothing useful in sight. I shrug and begin digging up sand with my hands. Finally I uncover it enough to pull it up onto the rocky beach. I can see that the object is a large rusty axe with a slowly fading blue hilt. Could it be?
Blue. Shadowdancer. Axe.
(September 18, 2015 - 6:51 pm)
Hotairballoon's axe suddenly fades away into dust, and blows way in the wind. They drop to their knees. What? A mirage? No... Their sanity drops as hotairballoon loses a life.
(September 18, 2015 - 8:23 pm)
Argh, I should've waited to see OTR's post so we didn't guess the same person! Ah, well...
(September 19, 2015 - 5:28 am)
High five, we both are treading on fragile ground! We both are half dead!
(September 19, 2015 - 3:56 pm)
Yay, partial failure high five!
(September 20, 2015 - 6:26 pm)
. Blue.
The breeze blows in my face. I wince, the breeze is distinctively fishy. More like dead fishy. I walk down the shoreline trying to find the culprit. Shells, stones, sand, nothing that looks even distinctly fishy. I sigh sit down and splash my feet in the rising water. I wonder why it smelled of dead fish. The water feels good though, the sun shining on my face, and the breeze blowing. I can just relax. I start to lay down when something slimy bumps up against my feet. I jump up and look to see what possibly could there. A fish, A dead orange tinted fish. I have really never seen that shade of orange on a fish like that. Hmmm...
(September 19, 2015 - 8:33 pm)
As shadow looks closer, he finds it is not a mirage. He had gotten one right. Was it orange who left behind her mark on the fish? Or did another suspect hide their tracks with orange paint?
(September 20, 2015 - 2:01 pm)
top?
(September 21, 2015 - 5:42 pm)
Someone please post! I would but I only have one life left...
(September 21, 2015 - 7:18 pm)
Top! C'mon guys, don't be those people who join, and then desert the thread! Danie? Joan? Top!!!
(September 23, 2015 - 3:51 pm)
~Curio (Green)~
The beach at night can be a very strange place. The moonlight skips off the waves, a silver road on the water running off somewhere beyond the horizon. The sand, tan during the day, is now white tinged with slaty blue. Everything is silent, expectant, surreal. In other words, just how I like it.
My name is Curio, and I am under suspicion of having committed murder.
My emerald green boots slap the sand as I run aimlessly across it, just below the high-tide mark. I don't know where I'm going, or what I'll do when I get...someplace. Anyplace, really. As long as it's not the lodge at the docks. Dinner was the tensest affair I've ever been to in my life, with far too many furtive looks and scared expressions and far too little conversation. Only the murderer knows who he or she is. None of the rest of us have any clue.
The pilot was found dead half-in, half-out of the ocean early this afternoon. We are stranded, with limited resources and a murderer at large. Not the best situation, but at least there's this: the miles of beach, the hush, the unbroken solitude.
Until a scream shatters the night, and all thoughts of pointless wandering are gone as I sprint up the beach toward the sound.
I see Joan B.'s neon orange jacket before I see her. She's kneeling on the sand, hands clapped over her mouth as if to keep from vomiting, and before her in the surf is...
It would have been something to overlook on a desert island such as this, if not for the blood running off it, half-dried, staining the water red. Things washed up on the shore here have a tendency to be strange: earlier today I found a dessicated toy robot, a cracked crystal ball, and a live sea turtle in the space of a single hour. The dagger is rusty and crooked, and the paint on its hilt is flaking, but I can tell it was once purple. Bright, violent purple, like a grape on steroids.
A sob breaks suddenly from Joan's throat. She's protesting that the dagger isn't hers, that she can't stand the sight of blood, and I'm ready to believe her.
But then again, the alternative is that Danie is the murderer, and I'm not so sure I believe that.
************
Sorry Joan if I misrepresented you. My official guess is Danie with the Rusty Dagger.
(September 24, 2015 - 2:50 pm)
As Curio gets ready to tell the others, a dead tuna floats up on the beach. Simply a hunting knife. Curio loses one life, and starts the decent into insanity. His next mistake will be his last.
(September 24, 2015 - 6:01 pm)
Uh, Pete? I'm a girl...
Or am I? Am I a fish?! BANANAS?!?!
Oh dear. I must be going insane.
(September 25, 2015 - 10:58 am)
@A Curious Dragon: It's ok, I'm already accused of murder. :)
@Pete the Trollslayer: Sorry I haven't been posting, it's just I didn't know what to post because I didn't want to lose a life and I wanted to see if I AM the murderer or not.
(September 24, 2015 - 6:15 pm)