Howl Werewolf Flood

Midas looked around. What had he stumbled in to? Everyone was throwing accusations left and right, and he was pretty sure someone innocent would be sent to the gallows if he didn't do something.

"L-let's look at this logically! We shouldn't kill someone on the first day! We have no information! We shouldn't be trying to vote someone off right now..." Midas tried to reason with them. "If we vote for someone to die, it should be after at least a night to see what's happened!"

After saying his statement, he started to look around more in-depth. He recognized some people from Unicorn Cabin. One of the boys was in it! There were some other people here as well, and most had voted. They also seemed to be saying what jobs they had. Midas didn't really have a job to pick and chose the first thing that came to his head. "I guess I'll be an investigative journalist? Are we allowed to pick anything we want?" 

OOC: I dunno if I'm allowed to do this, but here goes! Alright, so we need strategies! Also, lynching day 1 is a big NO NO! Lets think about this! The more evils there are, the less chance we have of getting a vote we innocents need... right? so the worst thing to do would be to kill someone on the first day! We have a much higher chance of hitting an innocent, and that only helps evils. so I really think we shouldn't vote someone off day 1! Anyway, if we have to vote, I'd vote for one of the people who voted on others immediately at the start of the day. Like why randomly? 

Manipulation. Lies. Treachery. Betrayal. After hearing the rules, Max decided he'd quite like this game.

He wasn't big into physical sports and if you were on a team you had to work with people you might not like. But this game was every person for themselves, and he could put on an act to his heart's content, especially since none of his good friends were in this game. Should he play it offensively, and begin accusing people immediately without any proof? Or should he hide in the background and listen to people talk amongst themselves to see if he could pick up any hints of someone lying? Decisions, decisions...

Stepping forward, he received his role without so much as the flicker of an eyelash, nodding once before fading into the crowd. Now he knew what he was, it was only a matter of deciding who. He figured he'd already somewhat mastered the art of being someone other than himself, so he ran through a list of jobs in his mind. What did a village need? Who was someone that would be useful but not overly out of place? A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth as he made his decision based on some fantasy books he'd once read.

"I'm the bartender in the town that gives the people drinks after a long, hard day's work," he said, letting his expression fall into an affable, friendly one that may or may not hide something. Even without werewolves and people with powers, small town folk always seemed to have something to hide. Trust no one, suspect everyone. "I hear lots of secrets in the tavern..." Because, well, you would. And that would be his strategy - to listen. Whether you were a werewolf or a human, there were certain roles it would be beneficial to find out.

Tucking his arms behind his back, he listened to accusations fly around and people already begin the infighting. If this was a real town, they sure as hell wouldn't last long. He kept an eye on his dormmate and the prefect of Gryffindor, eyes narrowing because he knew the kid was part of some drama thing with the transfiguration professor and could likely act innocent. Though he frequently also glanced at Professor Valtome, the too-quick-to-accuse man who could just as easily be trying to divert attention from himself.

Deciding to reserve judgement until more people spoke up, he remained silent and didn't accuse anyone. It might only lead to accusations being made for the sake of revenge, and that wasn't exactly a logical course of action in a game like this.

The town had already descended into madness over a simple rumour. There were Werewolves, yes, but why the big deal as of now? There hadn't been a murder in what felt like forever.

Who needed to address them by their true names when they now held these identities? These fascinating characters only sucked Anatole in more, and once he was too far in, he honestly couldn't get out. The town was peaceful as of yet, everyone stating their occupations in the town. Maybe these could lead to some fun interactions.

And suddenly, it spiraled into chaos. The narrow-eyed beggar across the way had taken a bold step already: accusing the organist. She retorted back with a sly comment with a hint of sarcasm which almost made Anatole break character again. Valtome wouldn't be pleased with this tomfoolery.

They kept going like an endlessly running river. "Is it you who terrorizes the town?" "You've been a bit too quiet so far!" They never seemed to stop, partially because underneath these characters, they were still twelve-year-olds who did whatever a teacher said. The beggar had set a quick and crazy example.

And with a sudden intake of breath, the blame fell to Anatole. "What better a coverup for your bad deed than a journalist! You control what the newspapers say...you can take the blame away from yourself. What are you hiding?"

He stared at the girl with a trained eye. If he didn't stay in character, he could be good as dead today. His head blocked out the murmurs as he began to speak. "No! Let me speak! I swear to the truth. Why would I make tabloids? I am the chief journalist for the local news! You all put your trust and have put your trust in me...a-and I wouldn't abandon that! You're all more than wonderful people, and I hope these next few days will help confirm my investigations. Whatever happens, Hogwarts, I...I won't let you down." His mouth had spoken already without thinking, and he was confident in what he said. His voice rarely faltered as he said what he needed. Normally, Anatole would feel ashamed, especially in front of others like these.

But, he wasn't the Anatole he always knew. He was now the Head of the news.

But the finger looked so scary...!

Never mind that! Another boy was speaking. His reasoning seemed completely plausible, and death was unnecessary. Maybe the Werewolves were a myth! Faked evidence, led to trip up a witty journalist like him?

"...investigative journalist..." The other boy had said just the word. He was taking his occupation? Really? Wow. That little jerk.

Setting those nasty thoughts aside, Anatole decided to play along. Addressing the boy, he began to talk again. "Wait...you're here too? I thought you were supposed to be in the writer's room!" Anatole decided that he was this boy's boss. Why not? "But I'll let you slide here, alright? I'm sure you have some good points." He gave a nod to the Ravenclaw, tossing his hair aside as he got back to the subject and character at hand.

Max's voice arose over the din. A bartender, you say? That was certainly creative. And yet, he acted like he knew something. Those secrets sounded enticing, but whispers such as those would be revealed throughout the game, according to whatever Anatole knew. Therefore, he decided to abstain from voting the first day. However, one thing about his character's easily doubtful yet inquisitive mind and his own split.

Due to the premise of the game, the Werewolves were certainly not a myth. Without them, the whole point of the exercise would be dull and uninteresting.

And yes, it was Anatole's job to pull these wolves from their shadows.

It had normally been a peaceful village. That is until these rumors started going around. Of course they were all really just twelve year olds pretending to be in these roles, but the best Eri could would have to imagine she was what her role was. So the Brunette walked around looking at all of the people. Though this really wasn't much of her job. She either had served at the tavern before she found a job she quite liked. She was one of those people that went out and studied the plant and animal life, and everyone knew that was her job. So she hopes they don't start putting the rumors on her.

Eri walked up to Anatole who is the journalist and was currently being accused at that moment. "Why would the journalist be a werewolf. That would be a good excuse, but seriously." She turned towards the journalist. "Excuse me, but have you gotten any confirmation that these rumors are even true? I would like to know." She said taking interest in what he might have to say about this werewolf rumors people were spreading around the once peaceful village she lived in. Hopefully she was doing a good job staying in character.

Eri pointed her finger at Emma hill. "I think I will put my vote on you. Since you seem so eager to vote. And I saw you out at night and it seemed sketchy."

December had always been a bit on the competitive side and it was games like this that her dads said would turn her particularly demon-like. She didn’t give two flips about how everything went down, as long as she won, and she had no intention of losing.

“I’m a Priestess with the ability to see through walls and everyone worships me. Duh.” Poor December did not understand the evils of god-modding and Mary Sues. ”Of course, that also means that everyone confesses everything to me and I know everyone’s secrets,” she finished with a satisfied smile.

Honestly, she felt like most of the other kids were probably hiding something. She trusted no one. But then, how was that any different from normal?

”I think you all did it,” she said matter-of-factly. ”Now get some Holy Water and repent,” she swished her canteen a bit before taking a swig and offering it to the others.

"Me? In the writing room?" Who did this boy think he was? Probably his boss, now that Midas thought about it. Whatever... Midas would go along with his schemes... An alliance would probably be useful after all. 

As Midas looked around, he noticed that some people had randomly put votes on people for not exactly a definite reason. "I don't trust Valtome or Emma... Just because someone's slightly silent doesn't mean they are an evil role... So there shouldn't be a need to put a vote on them..." he blurted out. "Like I said before, we shouldn't vote someone onto the death block immediately. We need more information, and I think we should just sit tight and wait."

"Daytime is almost over" (24 more hours) Solomon shouted at the bickering students. "Another 60 seconds!" He starts counting down a bit faster than he should with a grin on his face. "Vote out that were!"

OC:
- If you have not voted already, please do so. This is as a villager (if you are a were/minion remember that you are also believed to be a villager so you get a vote!) vote and said out loud in character. 
- You have another 24 OC hours, then night falls!

Amadea looked around at the people around her. They had all come up with elaborate backstories for their characters, telling them what role they had in the village. She decided she should share more about herself as well. After all, that would help them in the deduction of who was going to end up killing them all, or at least, attempting to. 

"I am an entrepreneur," Amadea said confidently. "My family wanted me to follow in their footsteps and become a doctor, but I didn't have the stomach to see all of those needles and injuries so I left and started my own path. I hope to become successful one day. In the meantime, I have a small shop where I sell food, books, and many other little knick knacks."  

Once she had finished, she continued thinking about everyone else's stories. They all seemed quite plausible, though a few seemed a bit suspicious. Nevertheless, Amadea made sure she wasn't going to trust anyone, not even a friend. Everyone in this game was a foe, no matter what they said or did. She could trust no one. Looking around, she tried to gauge who looked most suspicious of not being who they said they were. It was quite tricky, if Amadea was being honest. Everyone seemed to have to have mastered the ability to lie and have a poker face. Then again, some of them weren't lying. 

She decided not to vote at all, taking the suggestion of Midas. After the night happened and events transpired, she would attempt to figure out who was behind the attacks. But at the beginning, it was all too early to decide who was killing everyone. After all, no one had even died yet! She sat back, letting the others discuss and accuse each other, mentally compiling a list of who she thought was guilty. 

As December proclaimed her words of accusation, Ami nearly choked on her laughter. "Now get some Holy Water and repent." That was something she would have to remember for the future. "Hey, boss," she called, directing it towards the priestess. "This beggar-" Here, she jabbed a finger in the direction of the man who had accused her just moments before. "Thinks I'm a were, which is dumb. If I'm a were, how do I keep my job as an organist? Like he said, I wouldn't be able to step foot in the Church, and I was playing the funeral march just last week."

Funeral march? Where had that come from? Really getting into her role, now, the redhead leaped to her feet, waving her hands wildly, directing her words towards everyone. "Heed my words, fair citizens! Should you choose this beggar over me, I swear on my grave I will come back to haunt you." Taking a deep breath, she bellowed, "When you die, because you will, I will make sure they play the Macarena at your funeral if it's the last thing I do!"

There, that should be enough. Certainly, having such a strange song being played on an organ at their funeral would be threatening enough that everyone else would lay their votes off of her. "Oh, and I think it's him," she said, pointing at Max, the bartender. "Hearing secrets all day, you say? Then you know the best time to strike your prey, don't you?"