I'm going to go ahead and hide this game, since it's completed — thanks for the fun, and be sure to let me know when the next one starts up!
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We could always run two at a time, one with different options and one with the old options. And be sure to keep the personalities separate. ;)
It's a random result that happened to be correct... not an error.
Sorry for the delay in posting. There are a few things I'd add, as someone who's been running and playing Mafia online for... around 6 years. I've heard some opinions in the chat (in addition to that here) that the game is imbalanced. While some of Meowselsworth's options are non-traditional, I believe they're fairly balanced. Here are some things to consider:
Obviously, there are a lot more weights in the Mafia's favor in the above list; this doesn't mean that the game is imbalanced. In fact, while the games I run are usually balanced using different weights, I think Meowselsworth has done an excellent job balancing her version of the game. One last thing: just because someone turns out to not have been a special role doesn't mean you shouldn't listen to their logic and suspicions. This game isn't just about lynching people at random and hoping you got the right 29%; it's about observing behavior and speech patterns and putting them together with voting history to puzzle out who people are.
At least the game was fun.
Did you have any tasty cheeses?
I know, but I was!
Such a bad time for chat to go down!
Vote for [redacted]!
*peers around intently*
The Irishman chuckles softly to himself. "What were I be sayin'? Ah yes... 'a ruse' were the words I spoke. Not truly willin' ta stop her killin' so easily, were she?"
The Irishman gazes into each of his accusers' eyes evenly. Finally he sighs, and seems to be speaking almost to himself. "'Look at their faces, young laddie,' she used ta say. 'Words don't cost a sproutin' spud, but ye'll see the truth in their faces.' Sure an' it's true. On me dear mother's grave, it's true." He looks up again. "Pay heed; if there still be enough o' ye after I'm through, remember all I've said."
The Irishman sighs. "Aye, an' it was sure ta come ta this. Changin' my vote? Look in yer memories, lassie, an' ye'll see I was suspectin' Clara first thing! Unlike some, though, I wasn't about ta be killin' without any evidence." He looks pointedly at Clara and Hamish.
"Aye, so self-sacrificin' she seems, don't she? Sure an' let's see how far it extends, or if it be just another ruse."
"I don't be knowin' what a bus is, nor am I throwin' ye anywhere. Have I proven it? Have ye all listened ta me at all? Fer all I know, ye're all in th' Mafia... aye, an' fer all ye know, I am. Lot of uncertainty, ta be sure, but I'll tell ye one thing: this old spud knows how ta use logic an' reason." He scans the room, meeting as many eyes as will meet his, and though his gaze finally settles on Clara, he addresses the whole group. "Sure an' I've said Clara's a suspicious one... always ready ta kill, even ta pretend ta accuse her fellow murderer. Ready ta accuse anyone, just ta kill someone. An' before ye go sayin' that's me, r'member that I didn't want any part o' yer killin' before we were knowin' anythin'. Now we do. We've seen who'll kill, who has no qualms about it at all." "Do I have proof? Not a bit. Do I have logic, reason, an' good eyes? Sure an' I do!"
"He sounds like Mafia ta me... sure an' he's claimin' ta know somethin' just ta throw us off 'is track, but won't tell us anythin' at all." Clarence rubs his chin thoughtfully. "Y'say ye saw who killed the sheriff, lad... would that be because it was you, then?"
Clarence sighs. "Yon contraption's changed ye, lass, or somethin' else has. Used to be ye never would o' hurt a mite... an' now here ye are tryin' ta get folk killed for bein' different. Sure an' yer in it with Thadius."
Clarence looks up and answers softly. "I can be playin' it on the pipes, if ye've got some on ye." The edge of his mouth turns up in the slightest hint of a smile.
Clarence smiles at the Duke and chuckles softly at the offer of candy. "Sure an' I remember that... me ma used ta make a similar treat when I were just a wee lad." He gets up and retrieves a small piece, returning to his seat to ruminate contentedly.
"What've I not answered, lassie? 'f I could vote fer two, it'd be you an' Thadius. Ye've changed yer tune, sure, when folk noticed yer bloodthirst fer Gustav... an' the General. But ye've not changed yer behavior ta match th' tune."
Clarence, sitting quietly and watching, sighs and looks up. "Ye all talk, but no one's listenin' ta what's bein' said. Pockets? Aye, I've got 'em. What d'ye expect, fer someone ta pull out a gun an' say 'Sure, an' it was me!'??" He shakes his head silently and displays a pocket knife he always carries. His pockets are clearly otherwise empty.
The Irishman remains seated and speaks calmly. "I've said me piece, an' I stand by it."
"Can't say as I've had t'deal wi' makin' a fool o' meself yet, nor killin' any innocents, unlike some... nor do I expect ta be doin'."
Clarence chuckles. "Nobody's goin' anywhere, lad, as ye well know."
The Irishman shrugs and takes his seat. "I've said me piece. The wise'll be th' ones listenin'."
Clarence continues speaking softly, his gaze unwavering. He ignores Clara's outburst. "Ye didn't need a reason ta kill Gustav or th'General, but thankfully I'm not th'likes o' ye." He pauses to let his words sink in, then continues. "Ye've done a number o' things ta make me wonder: ye've shown an unhealthy interest in who were Gustav's blood brother (a thing only one o' th' mafia would try ta find out), ye've tried ta find out who're the mystery citizens protectin' innocent men an' women, ye've shown a proclivity ta violence, an' ye were party t'the killin' o' an innocent man."
The Irishman sighs longsuffringly, and turns to face Thadius. He speaks quietly, meeting the man's gaze without flinching. "Y'heard me right, lad. I'm accusin' ye. What more's there t'say?"
"D'ye know anyone who don't claim he can be trusted, lass?" asks Clarence, a bit playfully. He pointedly ignores Thadius and the man's threat.
"Three?" he asks Clara. Looking over at Thadius' comment, he frowns openly. "An' what d'ye propose ta do about it, lad? Would ye kill me like ye killed th' General?"
"Good authority? An' what authority might that be, hmm? As fer th'others, didn't they want ta kill one o' our own? An' didn't he die?" Clarence looks into Hamish's eyes briefly after the man walks over to him. He listens for a moment, then responds, "If that be true..." he trails off, looking around at the group.
"Aye, an' who was it wanted to kill th'one, hmm? If ye be askin' me, I don't find it hard ta see who's actin' like mafia." Clarence looks meaningfully at Thadius, Clara, and the Duke, then shifts his gaze to look over the rest of the assembly.
Clarence shakes his head at nobody in particular. "Too much whisperin'. Oughtta have it all out in th' open."
Clarence raises an eyebrow. "There ye be talkin' all violent again, lass."
The Irishman eyes Thadius for a moment. "An' d'ye figure that makes a man trustworthy, hmm? Or a woman?" He looks over at Clara meaningfully.
"Sure, an' how d'ye figure they'd do that?"
"Aye, Danny, an' there's the spud... y'see, anyone o' us could claim ta be th' poor stiff's brother, an' there's no one could say 'im nay. So y'see, it doesn't do any o' us any good fer a body ta come forward... but oh, do it help them ta know."
Clarence answers quietly, pointedly not looking at the Duke. "Y'seem oddly int'rested in who were the good man's brother, don't ye think?"
"An' what makes y' think ye need watchin' over, hmm?"
The Irishman watches Clara and Dan intently, then turns to address the duke. "Ye'd like ta know who it be, then, wouldn't ye?"
Clarence pauses for a moment, as if weighing the offer, then shakes his head with a chuckle. "Grateful, ta be sure... but I never did learn that vice."
Clarence waits for Clara to finish, then stands and removes his hat. His lips move slightly, after which he replaces his hat and walks over to Tina. Meeting Dan's eyes briefly, he puts his hand hesitantly on the young woman's shoulder, and smiles at her.
Clarence stares intently at Clara for some time before speaking. "Y' still be thinkin' Gustav were one o' them, hmm?" He turns his head and regards Thadius and the Duke. "An' you? What've ye got ta say fer yourselves?"
"Ye meant no harm, lad, but be more careful wi' your words from now, eh?"
The Irishman's face hardens. "Don't ye twist my words, man. I'm sayin' we shouldn't be killin' anyone afore we know more."
"Ye might as well be doin' that, lass; how's your way any better than 'is? We've got no evidence... y'can't just be killin' people without any evidence. There're some in here who're actin'... suspicious, if ye ask me. Maybe it's nothin', but how many have suggested we kill a man when we don't know anythin' at all 'bout the circumstances? Look ta them..." Clarence looks a bit abashed at having said so much, and gazes down into his teacup thoughtfully.
"Or just that o' a wee laddie who's got no business bein' drug inta this in the first place."
The Irishman nods at Dan, and again at Thadius' words. Though he addresses Geoffrey, he looks around at everyone as he speaks. "Y'can't be killin' people wi' no evidence... y'd be as bad as they are."
Clarence grunts. "Aye, an' why would ye suspect me o' bein' one o' them, lad? I'm no more ready ta go killin' folk than Clara's horse is ta sprout wings an' fly."
Clarence sighs and shakes his head. "Sure an' I'm glad yer all here ta work this out. Ye've decided the Mafia can be rich or poor, hard-workin' folk or idlers, fancy or jus' normal... aye, an' that sure narrows it down! Did ye want us all ta line up ta see who can dance, too?"
Clarence nods appreciatively at Dan, and then at the General, and adds some flavor to his dead plants steeped in hot water.
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