Howl Werewolf Flood

Night was over and they were waiting to see if the were wolf had made its move. Why did she choose the role she chose? It was kind of suspicious, but who doesn't need a little challenge in their life? But anyways, Eri saw Valtome accuse Ami. Should she step in? Maybe? But the brunette decided to walk around and observe everyone else. To see what they were up to.

So Eri walked around looking at people trying to gather information. Maybe even learn some details.

Why did everyone seem so quick to point fingers first and ask questions later? They didn’t have nearly enough information yet to make a decision that would end someone’s life. That may be her classmate’s style, but it definitely wasn’t December’s. She was more inclined to lurk ominously and observe all the guilty gestures and petty accusations while contributing absolutely nothing of value to the team. She sure wished she had something to snack on. :blobpopcorn:

When the girl collapsed into a fit of giggles, December feigned a horrified expression and held up the cross which hung around her neck. ”Oh Father, why must the purest of heart always be the first to die?” she cried while throwing her hands up and staring at the ceiling dramatically. ”Please watch over this child by the name of Ella Mills and bring her comfort and peace as she makes her final journey and is laid to rest.” She closed her eyes and made a cross with her hand over her head and shoulders before pouring a bit of ‘holy water’ from her canteen onto her fingers and sprinkling it over the girl.

Quickly forgetting that it was only a game, December was immediately filled with a sense of rage as she turned towards the two girls who had accused her. ”What is the purpose of this madness?!” she gestured towards Emma. ”We must love our neighbors as we love ourselves!” She clutched her heart as if it pained her. ”What do you have to say for yourselves?!” She stared at them with burning eyes and her hands placed stiffly onto her hips.

Eri looked at the girl who got mad at her and Aurelia for accusing Emma. The only reason she voted Emma out was because she was in the drama club. She could keep lots of secrets. But so could Eri. She almost signed up for the Drama club, but acting wasn't her passion.  

So she calmly faced the girl. "I have my reasons. She was good at keeping a straight face. That isn't good when trying to find a were amongst us. Though she may come back and haunt me, but I already made my choice." The brunette said, hoping the priestess would understand.

Now she walked over to Anatole and stopped at a distance where she could speak to him. "Excuse me, but I don't know if you could use this information. But since my job is studying the wildlife and the plant life, I have been noticing strange patterns in some animals behaviors. But I haven't found anything useful cause this is just the first night."

And so it began, the insane witch-hunt of nobody bothering to gather clues before slamming fingers into someone's direction and condemning them to death. Even though he'd abstained from voting in the first round, it hadn't stopped paranoia from spreading and it was clear that people were going to continue to have others 'killed' regardless of whether or not someone voted. It was also nighttime now... time for the wolves to choose their prey... After this, it would be easier to determine what they were dealing with and who might have powers within the group. But until then, someone was going to die tonight. Possibly multiple someones.

"I bar-tend after people work," Max offered reasonably in answer to Ami's accusation. "So how could I possibly have time to be a werewolf when I'm up until the wee hours of the morning serving drinks?" Possibly he could sneak out of the bar and claim he was out gathering more drinks, but that would be a ridiculously small amount of time to link up with other werewolves and kill people in. No, his profession left little room for doubt that he was nothing more than a simple villager who offered a friendly ear to his patrons when they stumbled in exhausted after a long day. He was the dull-eyed man whose brain was far sharper than any of his customers realized, catching snippets of interesting conversations here and there as he polished tables near the people stretching their legs out in front of a cheery tavern fire.

"If we must throw accusations around, however, I do find it suspect that the woman studying wildlife was out at night to see Miss Hill skulking about. As we're aware that there have been deaths, shouldn't everybody obey the curfew?" He wasn't sure if anyone had mentioned a curfew, but it seemed like something you'd implement in such dark times. "I was looking after my tavern - the... the Waystone Inn - and I saw numerous people come in to stave off the darkness and drink by my light during curfew times. But Miss Windstone wasn't one of them. Curious, isn't it?"

Tucking his hands into his pockets and assuming the slouch of a man who carried the weight of many secrets on his shoulders, Max paced a short distance from the group and sat on the ground. There were no real buildings but in the world they were living in, this was to be his bar. Hopefully he wouldn't get dragged from it and dramatically killed tonight - but if he did, he'd sown some seeds of doubt and thus done some of his job.

Eri looked at the bartender. Of course she would be the one accused. She also had an explanation. "Well Mr. Avery, I study wildlife and plants as you pointed out. Some plants are better observed at night. But I wasn't outside. I have a green house that I normally spend my time in at night. And I just happened to see Ms. Hill out at night." She said then seeing him walk away to his 'bar'. So she walked to the other end of the group and sat onto the grass, where her 'green house' supposedly is. If people needed her to give them an alliby she would be right here.

OC: Sorry for the delay. Staff distractions.

Poor... innocent Emma. What had she ever done to deserve such a terrible fate. Her laughter would be heard from her metaphorical grave -- they had killed the wrong person. Her pained laugh would obfuscate the sounds of the evil monsters that creep through the night. 

Max looked as good as any to die. Another innocent man, dead. The wolf/wolves came for him, took him... killed him in the dead of night. The Seer would look into his heart and also know the truth about one man or woman. [Sent via owl] He would not be saved, the potions master had chosen another to protect.

So under the veil of darkness, max would die.

"Rictusempra"


Solomon announced in a cold, unfeeling tone or at least he tried. He laughed a bit, there was something about laughter being contagious. He would not be saved, not by the potion master and not by fortune. His laughter would erupt a moment before the darkness faded away. The sun was bright, it felt brighter than before, it always does the day after tragedy.

"Indeed today is a mournful day good citizens," Solomon proclaimed with poorly feigned sympathies. "Max is dead," well he was laughing but he was not doing much talking at the very least. "Meaning that one of you is a werewolf still," Solomon grinned. "Day has come, are you going to let the werewolf live yet another day?"

The odds were not favorable regarding their chances of picking the were, so innocent blood might be on their hands but when night falls another innocent will die! They know for certain one thing: Max was an innocent.

OC: Feel free to curse your friends for putting you to death.

In the dark of the night, it came. The wolf - or perhaps the pack of wolves - paws scrabbling over the village ground in search of a target while villagers hid behind their doors either quaking or doing secret things they couldn't in the light of the day. Was the bartender a target chosen specifically or was it simple misfortune that he happened to be out back to heft another barrel of ale into the cheery warmth of the Waystone? Only a select few knew, and that knowledge was not to be a part of his fate as he turned to face his adversaries. His mouth must've dropped open comically - and was there a hint of recognition as he stared into the jaws of death? - but it was over before he could ever scream.

There was the sound of wood solidly thunking the cobblestone of the back alley as the barrel slipped from his sweaty grasp, the growl of a monster echoing through the air, and a gurgle that was cut abruptly short before the patrons could hear it. His last sight was to be jaws open above him; shining strings of saliva dripping from canines onto his face as hot breath stinking of carrion burned his nostrils. When he would be found the next morning, stiff and waxy with his mouth opened for one final scream that would forever remain unvoiced, it would already be far too late.

What would it say, this murder? Had he come too close to the truth or had it been a red herring? Had he overheard one secret too many, hastily dropped his eyes and been caught doing so after hearing something he shouldn't have? Whatever it was, the bartender would take it to the grave with him. Hopefully the curse of paranoia wouldn't destroy the village, but with the way things were going it almost seemed too late...

At least, that's the sort of dramatic scene Max imagined in his head as Professor Lear struck him with the tickling spell and he fell into the grass laughing. So much for playing this game until the end - he should've known he'd get out the first night. Oh well. But now he was definitely cheering for the villagers, if only so that they'd avenge him by killing off the wolves. Stretching out and placing his hands behind his head in the picture of a very comfortable dead body, he closed his eyes. He'd listen in and pray that everyone wasn't as stupid as they usually were when it came to playing games of manipulation.

And one of these days, he really would get Lear back for this and the lock-in with the prank of a lifetime.

It was a bit unexpected that Max Avery died that night. Though it would put some suspicion on her since he accused her before he died. Which didn't put her in a great place. But now she was confused. Who was the were? Now they needed to find out who it was before another innocent died. Though how would they figure this out?

One thing was certain they needed to find this werewolf soon. But how could they? There were no clues that were obvious yet but still. She was worried someone else who was innocent may die.

Max was dead, and he wasn’t the Were. Darn, so she had been wrong after all. Glancing around the circle, Ami tried to pick out who looked the guiltiest. Who would have something against Max, a simple bartender? 

“You,” she sneered, pointing at Midas. “You were angry, weren’t you? Angry that he kicked you out of Waystone when you drank too much that one night.” Yes, she could see the headlines now. ‘News Reporter is Secretly a Were- kills innocent bartender as revenge scheme’. She was no writer, but that sounded like a horror story if she’d ever heard one.

Amadea gasped as she watched the next person die. This time, Max Avery was the one fated to have his life ended, and Amadea watched as he dramatically acted out dying as he was hit with the spell. It was a shame, she thought, that already two people were dead and there had only been one night so far. They had already lost 

Amadea looked around at the people sitting around her. Which one of them could have been the one to kill Max? Who was lying? They had already eliminated an innocent farmer and a bartender. It would not bode well for the rest of the group if they chose incorrectly again. However it would also not be good to not convict anyone. After all, they needed to figure out who the werewolf was quickly, especially if there was a possibility that there were multiple of them infiltrating the village.

Amadea scanned the group, eyes narrowed, wondering who to accuse. It seemed as though Ami had a similar train of thought as she pointed and accused Midas of being the werewolf. "I must agree with Ami," Amadea said. "It does seem sketchy that the bartender happened to die. It would be easy for you to plan a revenge death and easily cover it up. After all, you're an investigative reporter so you could bend the truth and leave out important details...like who exactly committed the murder."