The Assassins' Guild - Week 4 News
The Assassins' Guild - Week 4 NewsC'est vrai que chaque genius criminal parle en francais. On ne sait pas pourquoi.
Someone tried to contact poison me by smearing it under my doorhandle; a good job my bedder comes in early!
This morning I decided that while I might not like the fact that Steve McCann is one of my targets, the fact remains that he is and there is no point in ignoring this since he may start to feel left out...
Consequently I decided to pay a visit to King' to try and find him. I thought I may need more weaponry than my customary killer rabbit, so decided to take along a rubber band gun as well except realised that since I still have no ammunition this would be a bit silly so instead I took along a couple of knives too. There was also the problem of not actually knowing what he looks like, my only pieces of information on this matter being a report suggesting he 'had hair' and the countless mentions that he is even more handsome than [the Umpire]. I have never seen you either. However made mental note not to attack any bald ugly people. When I reached King's I found another problem, namely that it is rather like a large maze and I couldn't actually find the right staircase. Everyone I asked appeared to be of the tourist persuasion and I felt that involving porters was not the best plan. I wandered around in a large circle for a while until I got a funny look from a man who had been sat on a bench for a while and I had walked past him three times.. At this point I put my tail between my legs and went back to attempting an alternative target.
This time I was after Michael Wallace. Having spent a little while finding the entrance to Whewell's Court I discovered that this was yet another annoying case of Trinity card-locking everything. I lurked around the entrance for a while eating polos and pretending to text while actually playing snake. Unfortunately only one person entered during this time; even more unfortunately it was while I had actually persuaded myself to becaome interested in the aforementioned Snake game so failed to reach the door before it closed again. Hung around for a bit longer, wandered a bit, hung around a bit more. Decided today was not a good day and anyway I wanted to buy myself some lunch. Came back.
Looked for incompetent Constable ATWOOD before her cells lecture today; didn't see her.
El Pollo Diablo come el grasshoppers. Son muy sabrosos en toast. Mmmmmmm
El Pollo Diablo acaba de perder el game.
Upon leaving my animal biology lecture (the invertebrate eye) I was brutally stabbed in the chest by El Pollo Diablo while deep in conversation. Kudos to him for sitting through an entire hour of bionatsci, he must have found lateral inhibition and neuromodulation enthralling.
This afternoon I saw Felicity Boyce. We stopped, chatted, talked about bicycle maintainance, had a brief firefight and then parted ways. Such a pleasant girl.
Attempting to execute a cycle-by with a broken bike that grinds as it moves is possibly not the world's best idea. Having the bike fall on your ankle as you try to shoot the person who is solicitously discussing said broken bike with you is possibly an even worse one.
OK why the heck are more than half the police force incompetent! Including the Super Chief! This is out of order!
In an attempt to rectify this state of affairs, I am offering some bounties:
These bounties may be claimed multiple times, until I have given out more than 10 bottles. Corpse mutilation does not count. Poison letters do not count. Lurking does not count - you must actually attack. Non-inco cops do not count. Wanted cops do not count. Inco live assassins do not count.
So, get pruning the police force!
Genius NetScroll +
Today I:
A) Destroyed my enemies
B) Dominated the lands
C) Became the cultral powerhouse of the civilized world
D) Launched a colonization ship to our nearest star
E) Became world leader by democratic election
F) Went to an undisclosed location
G) Killed Richard Mycroft
H) Won a game of chess with the 1) ... f4 defence
J) Travelled to two more undisclosed locations
K) Returned home
NOTE: 5 of the above took place in the real world, the others were to avoid incompetance
Dear Mir Umprie,
Am pised AGAIN. hhoopps. I blame alchol personallt. Damn the police formce
and it turn ing you to alcoholiscm. cAN';T catuch criminals like tathaisl.
Viclcolcks
Billcosks
Bollocks!
hurah - i can spell honset
- lottie
The old hermit fugitive Blood Animal that once tried to kill the auto-umpire (may week 2003) and didn't do too badly in another game of the past reports:
This may seem a little random coming from 140 miles away from Cambridge but I thought that you all deserve a big thank you and congratulations from me.
Since the game began I have been reading the news at lunch times while at work in a effort to keep me sane (programming for a certain Mutual Building Society). and I must report that...
the game is most honourable.
And so we come to business. I will offer a bounty of a full and hearty meal, bed for the night, lift back to the train station, a lot of chocolate biscuits and alcohol to anyone silly enough to travel and make an attempt on me, my wife Libby, my dog Boudica or my cat Hermes (NOT named after the Cambridge e-mail server!). The attempt doesn't have to be successful and I'd rather you didn't feed elastic bands or rubber pellets to my dog or cat but just by turning up you'll get your bounty.
So there it is.
number 5, ST8 6PJ, you can work it out from there.
Finally I present particular complements to Lucy Stephenson (Schtiel) for those excellent drawings that you do. Also to anyone else for their drawings.
I'm not weird, just bored at lunch times, honest!
BLOOD, HONOUR, GLORY!
P.S. The bounty is good for the duration of the game. if anyone from my area comes to call over x-mas i'll be glad to feed them beer.
Out of my targets, Wilderbeest seemed the most reasonable target. Her room was emtpy... a lurk was in order. I was out with very little intel on this. 10 minutes passed and I settled in for the wait, losing patience with every passing minute. Around 17:20, two girls headed towards [the staircase]... the first people to venture that way since I arrived. One veered off but the other continued onto [the staircase]... Could it be Wilderbeest? I had to be sure, so it was time to ask. I followed her up to near her room but I had obviously been too clumsy and spooked her. I was sure it was her though now... a thought that was later confirmed moments later when a concealed projectile was hurled down the staircase towards me. A quick duck managed to avoid the deadly missle. It was then a firefight up the stairs with a less than perfect RBG. I had no idea if more weapons were headed my way but a few RBG shots later and she ran for the cover of [a room]... I pursued. I almost made it but she managed to lock herself in the adjacent toilet just before I arrived.
Disheartened by my own lack of finness I withdrew. But I was not done. I continued to lurk the staircase for around 20 minutes with no sign of Wilderbeest... obviously she was comfortable where she was and wasn't going to make any foolish moves.
As I was leaving the area I found the small missle I had avoided earlier. A killer rabbit. I knew what these things could do to you... thank heavens I avoided it. Having been hurled into a door it seemed stunned but I took no chances, using my specially designed RBG concealment device (a Co-op bag) I returned the poor creature to Wilderbeest's room... In the interest of good sport, taking prisoners seemed unnecessary.
So I left [the college] with no further sign of my target... *sigh* so close this time. But there will be more opportunities I am sure.
Got back from my supervision at about 5.30 this evening to find someone I didn't recognise hanging around my staircase. He then proceeded to say 'Wilderbeest?' in a hopeful I've-been-waiting-here-a-while kind of voice. My thoughts rather quickly ran thusly:
1. What's he doing here?
2. Oh shit he's come to assassinate me.
3. I could say I'm not Wilderbeest.
4. Oh ***** I'm wearing the hoody with my name on it!
I fled upstairs while rumaging for my killer rabbit, he shot at me with his RBG. I'm fairly sure he missed. I threw my killer rabbit at him. I'm fairly sure I missed. But I wasn't about to stop to check. I proceeded to lock myself in the shower since I was cut off from my room and further weaponry, where I labelled every pen and pencil I had with me as a knife. This took quite a while, firstly because my only method of labelling was to tie on little bits of paper with little bits of cotton, and secondly because I'm the kind of person who likes to have a full set of coloured pencils with them. By the time I had finished this and psyched myself up to venture out, he had gone.
He did however prove to be a very considerate assassin as he had left my killer rabbit neatly outside my door. If he would care to tell me his address, I would be happy to do the same with his rubber bands.
Today, a valuable lesson was learned: always gather at least some reconnaisance before venturing out to a large college a quarter hour before your incompetence deadline strikes.
Aha! My archnemesis, The Shady Cabal! On behalf of assassins everywhere, take that! And that!
And now to claim some pop
...PROFIT!!!
Lurked for Noir-Mort, but she didn't come out to play :(
I, who was Formerly Magnolia, being of sound mind and unsound weapon, do
hereby report my untimely demise.
Our chief of operations received word that I was out of favour with the
Guild and its Umpire. In a determined bid to redeem myself in the eyes of
the Guild, I began preparations for Operation Keynote. I retrieved my trusty
1.3 calibre, loaded it, primed it, and...
BANG!
The chamber exploded, and I felt the full force of my weapon as the deadly
shot, intended for my target, went straight through my own heart...
=====================
Do you want your posessions identified? [ynq] (n)
> y
a - a cursed -1 rubber band gun (weapon in hand)
b - an uncursed +0 pair of pyjamas (being worn)
c - an uncursed +0 dressing gown (being worn)
d - an uncursed packet of rubber bands (open)
Do you want to see your attributes? [ynq] (n)
> y
Final attributes:
You were within the law
You were incompetent
You are dead
Do you want an account of creatures vanquished? [ynq] (n)
> y
Creatures vanquished: None
Do you want to see your conduct? [ynq] (n)
> y
You never hit with a wielded weapon.
You never attacked any innocents.
You never used an ingestive poison.
You never used a contact poison.
You never used an exciting card.
You never genocided any monsters.
You never polymorphed an object.
You never changed form.
You used no wishes.
--More--
----------
/
/ REST
/ IN
/ PEACE
/
| Formerly |
| Magnolia |
| 4 At |
| killed by |
| a weapons |
| malfunction |
| |
| Michaelmas |
| 2005 |
*| * * * | *
_________)/\_//(/(/)////|_)_______
Goodbye Formerly Magnolia the Assassin...
You died in the Assassins Guild of Michaelmas 2005 in week 4 with 0 kills,
and 4 attempts, 3 of which were credited, after 22 days. You were level 1
with a maximum of 1 hit point when you died.
--More--
You didn't make the top ten list.As the topic of #assassins is, as we all know, what we should be living our daily lives by, I decided to head to Churchill this evening in an attempt to kill the incompetent Tim Bartram (why not Michael Royal? why not Wei Li? because I'm lazy and/or don't like flats. why not Phil Bridge? because he's legendary, and thus scares me). After finding his staircase and generally slinking around a bit in my very unsubtle way (also, very much unlike a slinky, although I did manage to go down some stairs successfully).
After a while it became quite clear he wasn't going to his (undisclosed) meeting that may or may not be incredibly geeky (nothing wrong with geeky, of course). Or, as is also very possible, he'd somehow slipped past me, I disappeared again, possibly spotting the nefarious criminal Phil Bridge on my way out. Suffice to say I didn't stay to attempt him, instead I Walked Away Briskly.
Dear Maz, Supreme Umpire and Keeper of one of the Three Purple Fluffy Thongs,
I would like to notify you that I am holding the shoes of my Manhunt partner, one Charlotte Heron, to ransom in my room, along with her cake, her wine glasses, her shot glasses and her Cointreau. Why? You've guessed it...
Blame Mr. Tom Booth.
Yours,
Luci Sandbach
Valued member of the Manhunt
PS - Lottie, if you're reading this - Haha I didn't mention I had your Cointreau AS WELL as your shoes... ;) Muahahahaha! ;)
MICHAEL ROYALLE
A Tragedie in Somme Partes
DRAMATIS PERSONAE:
TOM BOOTHE - A Gallant Lawman, or Officer of the Police
MICHAEL ROYAL - A Notorious Incompetent
NED WEANEY - An Assassin
MICHAEL WALLACE- Procyon Iotor
STEPHEN MATTHEW THOMAS McCANN- The Enemy
DIVERSE INNOCENTES
SCENE I - The Interwebnet
NED: Come man, set aside thy petty qualms. A meal is in the offing, and thy presence is required.
TOM: Would that I could join you. But as the moon doth shine, so the Moors
assault my senses.
I cannot venture forth till they are vanquished.
NED: As you will.
STEVE: Tom, thine eyes grow weary and the Moors can wait. I hear tell of a
place that sells
The most exotic foodstuffs
From the distant Orient, beyond the mighty peaks of the Hindu Kush.
TOM: Very well. Thy words seem as venom,
But there is honey in what thou speak'st.
I shall meet thee at this place.
Allow me but one hour to dispatch the Moors.
NED: It is done.
SCENE II - A street in Cambridge.
Enter TOM
TOM: Be these juggling fiends no more believed,
That palter with us in a double sense;
That keep the word of promise to our ear,
And break it to our hope. They are not here.
Enter MICHAEL ROYAL and INNOCENTS
TOM: Pray, what devilry is this? The man who walks across from me
Has the same face as that most notorious of men.
How I long to stride there and plunge my blade into his innards.
But wait! I stay my hand, for should I be deceived
And this not be Royal, great misfortune shall myself befall.
I shall await my companions.
Exeunt MICHAEL ROYAL and INNOCENTS
TOM: Be it so, he has evaded me for now. But vengeance shall be upon him
shortly.
My companions approach.
Enter STEVE, NED AND MICHAEL WALLACE
TOM: All hail.
STEVE: O worthiest cousin!
The sin of my ingratitude even now
Was heavy on me: thou art so far before
That swiftest wing of recompense is slow
To overtake thee.
TOM: Be that as it may.
NED: Thou art preoccupied.
TOM: It is so. My heart doth quake with the report,
But I cannot dispute what my eyes so strongly believe.
In yonder tavern stands Royal.
WALLACE: It cannot be so.
TOM: Disbelieve me, then, scoundrel. For those with stomach, follow my path
And I shall lead you to the man.
STEVE: If what you speak is truth
Then we have precious little time to waste
Lead us to the man, that we might slay him.
TOM: Ned, what of you?
NED: In the great hand of God I stand; and thence
Against the undivulged pretence I fight
Of treasonous malice.
STEVE: Worthy Wallace, we stay upon your leisure.
WALLACE: This enterprise is folly
But you leave me no choice.
Should I remain, I may myself fall victim.
TOM: Then we are agreed. Stay upon my heel.
Exeunt.
SCENE III - Without a Tavern, or Bar
STEVE: Where is the man?
TOM: That fellow by the bar.
When first he met my eye
His back was clad in coat of cowhide
But it seems he has since removed it.
STEVE: It is he.
NED: Who shall it be who does the deed?
WALLACE: No part of this I want.
If this is not the man you seek
The malice of the king descends upon you all.
If one man must do this, then let it be Tom
For his life values less than ours.
TOM: Shame to thee!
I vow, base knight, when I do meet thee next,
To tear the garter from thy craven's leg.
Begone from my sight, lest I unman thee here!
Exit MICHAEL WALLACE.
TOM: Knave as he is, he may speak true.
Should I die, it is no great matter. I shall undertake this.
STEVE: Fie! Are we not friends!
We shall fight together against the tyrant's wrath.
I stand with you, brother.
NED: And so do I.
Exeunt
Scene IV - A Tavern, or Bar
Enter MICHAEL ROYAL
Enter STEVE, TOM and NED
ROYAL: They have tied me to a stake; I cannot fly,
But, bear-like, I must fight the course.
TOM: What is thy name?
ROYAL: Thou'lt be afraid to hear it.
TOM: No; though thou call'st thyself a hotter name
Than any is in hell.
ROYAL: My name's Michael Royal.
TOM: The devil himself could not pronounce a title
More hateful to mine ear.
ROYAL: No, nor more fearful.
TOM: Thou liest, abhorred incompetent; with my knife
I'll prove the lie thou speak'st.
They fight and MICHAEL ROYAL is slain.
STEVE: Truly that was well done. He is dead, then.
NED: Much have we profited from this.
TOM: My heart is not gladdened by the bloody deed.
Let us to our meal, for I hunger and much desire
A Kashmiri.
STEVE: To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time,
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
TOM: Well spake, friend. Come, let us leave this place.
Exeunt.
FINIS
Can i have a chicken korma, peshwari naan and white rice please?
Drink!? Um... A Pint of Kingsfisher, please.
The Service was quite good.
Having been lured out to curry, despite having eaten and being poor (I have a naan bread in the end, very nice), it proved a most profitable venture. Upon arriving we were informed by the sex inspector himself that the serial incompetentererer Michael Royal had been spotted in a bar. Gallant a band as we were, and indeed still are, we scurried forth to the drinking hole where it was agreed that Tom should go in first.
I did not make a tactical retreat. I bravely volunteered to stand guard outside instead.
Also, I do *not* live in Burrell's field. However, I cannot comment on the claim that I have a tail.
Conor Shields reports:
I am reporting in from Ireland and heard about the highly tragic death of Michael Royal over a nice curry. I mean I was eating the curry, not that he died over one.
This news was not well received, with several lesbians in the area "delesbianising" out of respect. Surveillance of Steve "Boom Boom" McCann's safehouse confirmed delesbianisation was actioned nationally. However we were unable to get in contact with any Sarahs for comment.
Jean-Luc deBeaux Draps
NI Division Junior-Deputy-Vice-Managing-Director-Designate
TOM BOOTH
A Tragedie in One Parte
DRAMATIS PERSONAE:
THOMAS BOOTH
DIVERS PEOPLE
Enter THOMAS, stage left
Enter DIVERS PEOPLE, stage right
DIVERS PEOPLE mock THOMAS
Exeunt.
Tom Boothe took my life while I was still young.
I'll miss this world and every song yet to be sung.
You see, I fought the law, and the law won.
I thought I was invincible; that was the glitch.
I was only incompetent, in the bar called Nitch,
And the knife in my gut hurts like a bad thing.
The life flows out of me, and I remember the past,
I think of my childhood, and then breathe my last.
I slump to the floor, and the salsa music keeps playing.
I think I just got got. Couldn't feel the rubber band hit me but it probably did.
Je voudrais tuer un victim. Il y a beaucoup de victims a Fitz.
Horreur! Touts les victims sont deja morts. Il n'y a pas des victims pour moi. Tant-pis!
Game loss ensues.
Qu'est-ce que vous avez si vous crossez Simoen Bird avec un band de rubber?
|Simeon||band de rubber|sin(theta)
I have always asserted that Measure Theory is bad for the liver.
However, this seemed the simplest way to test whether Phil had a no-kill with me or not. Seems he didn't.
I would like to take this opportunity to protest about the frequent re-occurrence of what is possibly the *worst* joke featuring myself and the cross-product *ever*.
The Cornflake Monster is not only a lengendary criminal but also speaks lousy French.
The CORRECT French for 'rubber band' is not 'band de rubber', but 'bande ??lastique'
notice both the word rubber is not used, and the gender is feminine not masculine.
Also, he is the most recent but not the only person to have claimed to crossed people with weapons. Think about it. With a gun, you'll normally make a small, round, bullet hole in the target. With the most popular design of knife, you'll also make a small round hole. Ergo, it is obviously incorrect to use the cross product - one should use the dot product. So the correct report should have been
*****
Ce qui vous obtiennent si vous pointillez Simeon Bird avec une bande
??lastique?
|Simeon||bande ??lastique|cos(theta)
or equivalently
Sigma (n=1,1) [ Simeon_n x bande ??lastique_n ]
*****
Notice that this is also correct on the grounds that both the target and the knife are moving and thus vectors. (If either are static one can always change reference frames)
The result, death, however, is most definitely a static equilibrium and as such is a SCALAR.
Today I made my way to Mill Lane in the hope of once again seeing Miss Boyce. Unfortunately she didn't seem to be around, and so I waited for an hour or so, just in case. It seems I was stood up, though, so I'll just have to try again.
I'm sorry, if you'd let me know you were coming, I'd have made an effort to be there. If you just turn up without warning, though, what do you expect?
Looked again for the incompetent constable ATWOOD, apparently she was too hung over from the night before to be bothered to turn up!
Dear Maz, you are so fine, (yet not as good as Steve BOOMBOOM McCann - hope that word of this doesn't get to his girlfriend... *wink* *dribble*) your umpiring adds that patina of alluring power oh so well,
Today was a (belated) day of success for the Flooflebunny. Dom Hockley, the early double-killer, wanted man and good contender for "psycho killing-spree fresher" status, has succumbed to a short, sharp spurt in the face.
From a water gun, of course.
[Some] Court in [a college], never architecturally pleasing, now has the added attraction of the Flooflebunny bathing in human blood rapturously.
WANT MOOOOORE...
Best regards to you and your family,
The Flooflebunny, World Champion in EXTREME Ironing 1605. BC.
Dear the greatness that we all worship...even from the dead!
I was killed in the post room vicinity,
With one who i shared no affinity,
He was quick with his gun,
There was no chance to run,
A traitor as he too was from [some college]!
Killer Rabbit / Breakdancing badger (I will return, mwahahahahaha!)
Today I went to do something nice for my targets, to get them in the festive mood, to make them feel loved and fuzzy inside.
So I wandered into Sainsburies hoping to find someone to share my joy with. Finding no people of any value, I brought a pack of ninety nine pence mince pies that I would lovingly share around with people rather than kill them.
Unfortunately it was cold so I ate them all before I could be bothered to walk to one of your annoyingly placed colleges. Serves y'all right for not living on Sidney Street.
I sauntered along to the careers fair to meet the man with the Invisible Beard. As I arrived, I saw no sign of Gordonius, but there was the infamous criminal Phil Bridge sauntering out of the Gradpad. So I stabbed him.
Je suis mort.
L'assassin etait un arts-student. Est-ce que c'est possible de vivre avec le shame?
He unlocked his door to enter his room,
clickety-clickety-click!
Another statement from my lawyers:
Following the notice placed today by Miis Sandbach, Mr Booth would like to offer a reward for the successful return of Miss Heron's shoes and other accountrements. The reward will be doubled should Miss Sandbach be fatally wounded in the process of their recovery. This bounty will be waived should Miss Sandbach come to her senses and return the items in question within an hour of this being posted. Should she do this she may claim the reward herself.
The bounty, as before, will take the form of a pile of "party rings". Mr Booth is aware that, according to the letter of his statement of 20th October, there is now a further bounty upon his own head. On that subject he had this to say:
"Bring it, bitches."
Bang bang, I shot her down
Bang bang, she hit the ground
Bang bang, that awful sound
Bang bang, I shot poor inco ATWOOD down!
Stephen "Boom Boom" McCann, Edward A. Heaney (Purveyor of SCIENCE to the Gentry), Thomas "The Sex Inspector" Booth, Gordon "Beardsville Population None" Ball, Lottie "Chewbacca" Heron, Sarah "The Other Short Irish One" Donnelly, Lauren "Breakfast In Bed" Grest, Adam "The Tall Irish One" Baird Fraser, Luci "The Manhunt" Sandbach, Michael "Raccoon: Tactical Retreat!" Wallace and the ghost of Philip "Legendary Boy" Bridge report:
Luci Sandbach reports:
Dear Umpire,
As I was leaving from the Glitter Battle of Doom with my friend Steve "Boom Boom" McCann, we noticed that a present had been left for Xanth! Who could be leaving presents, we thought? After all, surely that is the job of the Manhunt?! We ran down the stairs and out of the door to see if we could catch the culprit, but all was left was footprints that looked like these:
We found this very suspicious, and will keep watching out for this mysterious giver of presents. Please, I urge the rest of the Assassin's Guild - BE VIGILANT!! It could be you next!!
Yours worshipfully,
Luci Sandbach
Valued member of The Manhunt and LolMaf
Michael Wallace reports:
Sarah Donnelly reports:
Dearest yummy* Umpire Maz,
I belatedly enclose my own glitter party report, sadly not featuring the rest of those present, since this picture alone was a bloody hassle to draw with a touch pad and MS Paint...
When not deadly, glitter is extremely amusing. Also it likes to live in my hair.
Regards,
Sarah
*but not as yummy as Steve McCann**
**[anticipates an epidemic of game loss among readers of this report]
I find all colleges to be maze-like, i brave keycard locked doors at every turn, i fail to get through gates which remain open 1,.... nay! TWO MINUTES at a time! Who am I?
Answers on a postcard please.
Sometimes you really hate assassins. Not the players, of course (although some of them, with their faces, and their eyes that burn, burn into your sausages), but the game. Such as when you're waking up after Not Very Much sleep, and are going out in the rain (ok, drizzle, but was it not shakespeare that said 'drizzle is like rain, but crap'? probably not, but never mind), to hang around in some random college for a bit. I'm quite impressed that I managed it, to be honest. Was quite pleased to get back to bed afterwards - not that I condone missing lectures of course (not that I'm confirming or denying that I have lectures...ever).
I went on the prowel to search for one Stephen Matthew Thomas McCann at Kings today and once more was foiled by the vastness of such a college! He appeared to be nowhere abouts so after a good hand numbing time (about 20minutes) I left emty handed and very degected...why can people not just stay in the place they ae meant to be all the time??? Yours unfortunatley in no blood Noir-Mort
| Rank | Institution | In (MB) | Out (MB) | Total (MB) | % |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| 80 | Pure Mathematics and Mathematical Statistics, Department of | 1419.24 | 1499.10 | 2918.35 | 0.14% |
I spent most of this morning's lecture staring at girls.
Having done some (scientific) research on those individuals I wished to bring to justice, I discovered to my delight that I could possibly kill two birds with one stone (not that killing any wild creature is justifiable of course, they have done me no harm, yet). Upon arriving at my location, I discovered to my surprise (for I was under the impression that the early bird gets the worm - these metaphors are getting complicated), that there was already a suspicious looking person in the place of question. Wondering if I could possibly have arrived too late, I decided to linger, as subtlely as possible (I even considered assuming ant form), to see if anyone even more suspicious would approach. Alas no, and with a destination of my own to be present at postwith, I departed, once more unsuccessful in my endeavours. However, my next mission is to create an individual-detector, so that I can get a reading of whoever any suspicious person is, and thus, in theory, identify them with less guesswork...
Eso lo ense??ar?? a re??rse de mis hombres del pa??s del compa??ero con sus bromas. ??Carlos de hecho! El Pollo Diablo tendr?? siempre venganza.
Q. Why did the chicken cross the road?
A. To get |chicken| |road| sin(theta)
Whilst scanning the guild news I happened to notice that the venerable Thomas de Rivaz claimed to have won a game of chess with "the 1 ... f4 defence". As a chess player myself I am well aware that 1 ... f4 is actually impossible as pawns may move a maximum of 2 squares at once. Perhaps he meant 1. f4, Bird's Opening, but I doubt that as no white moves are ever termed 'defence'. More to the point, even if it did exist it would certainly have a name, eg 1 ... f5 is the Fred defence.
I conclude that not only is he a liar and a patzer, but he has also not allocated enough of his time to the study of the wonderfully esoteric science that is chess opening theory. He must die. I thereby offer a bounty consisting of a brief guide to some common chess openings, with a bonus of several amusing and illustrative games in the Bird's and Fred if the kill is illegal, as I find criminals very amusing.
Yours faithfully,
Mr E. Mann
Thomas de Rivaz reports:
In responce to your statement, I must admit that it was the Fred defence as you so lovingly name it. Did you spot the other delibrate mistake that I ommited I) from the list of activities preformed apon that day.
These two mistakes were both to test your perception and i you admit your identity I will gladly give you a reward of a pack of party rings delivered to your pigeon hole
Yours
Thomas de Rivaz
Finally caught him
Deadly knife, thrown from my bike
Killed, Nedward Weaney
For copying Pom
You are getting CPSed
Next time I see you.
With a name like yours
Your report just asks for it
Be warned, assassin.
(In other news, my real death report will be up soon.)
- Edward A. Heaney, Purveyor of SCIENCE to the Gentry
I would like my fruit
For the killing of Heaney
And make them fresh ones.
Dearest Umpirical One, source of all umpire-y goodness and fine figurehead of the esteemed Guild of Assassins,
So apparently Ben Weaver's gone inco. Fine by me; his house was easy enough to find and his neighbours polite enough to hold the door for me. The house has nice blue carpets.
Unfortunately the inco himself didn't make an appearance between roughly 7-8pm, so I went home to do something more productive after about 50 wasted minutes.
Regards,
Sarah
PS. Oh right, almost forgot, you = fit, Steve 'BOOMBOOM' McCann > fit. I'll fight off the Flooflebunny if necessary. Starting to get worried about his?her? general drooling in the reports.
PPS. I hear rabbit-fur trim is very much in fashion at the moment.
With help from Luci Sandbach and Maria Sedelnikova, a honey/lasagne trap was set up for one Alex 'Corkscrew' Labram at about 7pm last night. Sadly he was a little too suspicious, and I had an inconclusive firefight with him in Peile, observed by a number of amused Newnhamites, before we agreed a truce and I headed off to meet the SWAT team.
After that a particularly large SWAT raid was assembled to attack various incompetents. The following were present:
Myself, the lovely Lottie Heron, and the esteemed James Wardley, Thomas Richard Branton, Jacob Samuel Corteen, Tom Wootten, Talan Le Geyt, Jamie Horder, Serena Allery, David Smith, Edward A Heaney and Richard Kirkdale (on crutches).
Apologies to anyone I missed.
Unfortunately the raid was less than successful. We were initially unable to gain access to the staircase of Jonathan Pemberthy, and once we actually did we discovered he was out. In Robinson we met a man claiming to be Jamie Brandon's neighbour, but apparently Jamie himself was also out. The group then separated; most of the cannon fod*cough*junior officers heading to Churchill, while James, Lottie, Michael and I went over to Newnham.
As we were passing Clough, we heard news that the nefarious Corkscrew had left Newnham, and encountered him shortly afterwards. However since none of us were bearing, he couldn't actually do anything, and settled for brandishing a penguin with intent. James and Michael chased him around for about half an hour, but eventually he got away.
We went for chips in the meantime, and encountered the remnants of the Churchill team, who told us that while Philip Dub had been out, they had managed to kill Sandra Wilhelmi in Sidney. At this point I got a phone call from Chris Korek asking if he could come, but since it was quite late we went to bed instead.
Comrades,
This announcement is being made to inform you of the further progress in the purging of the Security Services.
In the aftermath of the previous purge several dangerous individuals were captured and put to question. The basements of Lubyanka Square are notorious with good reason and even such hardened counterrevolutionaries as these were persuaded to see the best interest of the People and reveal the names of their associates.
Armed with this information and the information databases of the State, a crack team of officers from the Security Services internal security wing were despatched to capture or eliminate these traitorous individuals.
Once again several traitors took to cowering in their rooms before the fury of the guardians of the people, or have gone into hiding, but one target was apprehended. Faced with the righteous agents of the will of the People, she saw the error of her ways and begged for her death in atonement for her activities. While death at least was granted, let it be known that there can be no atonement and no redemption for those who by action, thought or deed contravene the interests of the People, the State and the Revolution. There can be no mercy and no deviation in the Workers' Paradise lest all order be destroyed and anarchy and capitalism return.
The purge continues and the remaining targets are being hunted down as we speak. The security services will stop at nothing and will strive tirelessly to cleanse their ranks of these foul imperialist infiltrators.
You have been warned. Deviancy will not be tolerated within the State. Our victory is inevitable. The historical dialetic shows that there is no escape and no respite for those deluded fools who continue to resist us. Pain and death are the only rewards for such activity.
The people are reminded that it is the duty of patriotic individuals to step forward and denounce counterrevolutionary elements of which they have knowledge. Those who allow such hotbeds of dissent to exist will be treated as traitors and dealt with accordingly.
Thank you for your time.
Darkness fell, large numbers of heavily armed police roamed the city, and incompetents were mostly out.
Just confirming that I went to Jesus and Robinson on the SWAT raid, the evening of Thursday 10th November.
Also, anyone wishing to claim their bounties should email me. This is particularly the case if you have any specific requests as to what sort of pop you would like.
Dearest most fluffy Umpire...
I must express my utmost thanks to you at my promotion in the police force... Mistress of Police indeed! A chance I think to put the policeman's handcuffs to slightly more 'unconventional' usage!
It is a pleasure to inform you that in my first night of office, I helped the most excellent Master of Police, Mr Booth, to lead a SWAT raid on the worthless incompetants of this world. From the Mitre pub we first paid a visit to a Mr Pemberthy of Jesus, who was not in. From there we proceeded to Robinson, and surprised the roommate of Mr Brandon. From here the SWAT team split, with a small number paying a visit to Churchill, a couple dispersing, and the four most distinguished members going to Newnham to try to apprehend the muppet incompetant, Corkscrew. A battle raged outside the Anchor between the noble police force and Corky who was armed with a large fluffy penguin, which resulted in him running home to hide in his room (but unfortuantly still very much alive).
I must express my gratitude to all the excellent officers of the law who turned out in force to put the world to rights. I apologise for the fact that so many of you turned up our kill-list was dramatically reduced.
It was most disappointing though that they were all so enthusiastic that I did not get to use force in my new capacity as Mistress to get them moving. A shame really, I was looking forward to it...
In summary...
Dead Incos: 0 (rather unsatisfying)
Dead Police: 0 (quite an achivement)
Yours,
A Night With Venus, Mistress of Police
PS: Mr Umpire, you might like to know, I wore the green dress with a certain item of purple coloured underwear on this raid - thought you might find it amusing when you come to put the reports up...
Luci Sandbach reports:
I saw Foxy today. He looked well. Slightly terrified though...
Yours,
Luci Sandbach
Valued member of the Manhunt
Luci Sandbach reports:
Me and Sophie Lawrence decided to kill Mr. Alex Labram while he was eating chocolate pudding. More accurately, we killed him with his own knives. We were surprised when our knives had no effect, however, before realising that we were not actually playing. So instead we contented ourselves with throwing pens labelled knife at him, and I threw a pen down his shirt. It was very amusing!
Beg to report that I have just stabbed Luci Sandbach for bearing. Sadly it appears that she was not in fact playing, but hey. The exact circumstances involved her attempting to label me "knife" with one of my own (labelled) pens.
Incidentally, Tom Booth now apparently owes me two packets of party rings - one for stabbing Luci and one for stabbing the formerly anonymous person who was putting bounties on people's heads.
PS Luci then stabbed me with a pen labelled "pasta". That's the sort of thing that happens when you hang around Newnhamites, it seems.
Does this girl even exist? Unfortunately, I couldn't stay long enough to find out as this was Carrie Oliver territory...
I was out and about doing things of a naturally undisclosed nature, when I bumped into the Mr. and Mrs. of the Police Force, and a Mr. Wardley, apparently coming back from a SWAT 'raid'. Shortly after stopping to talk to them who should we see but the nefarious, er, inco policeman, corky. A standoff ensued, the sides fairly evenly matched - the three of us with RBGs, water pistols, knives and killer raccoons, him with a penguin. Suffice to say we didn't manage to get him, but weren't overcome and thus, I think, can claim the moral victory.
This evening went on a very well planned but unsuccessful raid on incos.
Best time of the night was chasing Alex "Corky" Labram 1/2 way across town in new shoes... it hurt so much I had to give up.
I must register my annoyance at Sandra Wilhelmi, who I shot this evening as part of the great police "Let's All Get Some Competence" SWAT raid. She took all the fun out of my kill by being far too nice about it. She actually requested that we shoot her and when I aimed at her she didn't even indulge my bloodlust by making a show of dodging. I felt cheap and dirty when I realised I had slain someone so sweet and innocent, and went off to cry at my own thoughtlessness and the cruelty of fate. But not for very long, I must admit.
I feel you may be getting at me.
Would you lurk for your target on his assumed cycle route and then wait for an hour getting cold and wet in a hedge just in case he headed in for the next lecture, or returned straight after the first one?
Rolf Wood
I sit inside the hedge and watch,
the people passing by.
But not a single one can see
My tiny watching eye.
Today, I lurked for that terrible incompetent Were-Rabbit outside her lecture theatre. I arrived at 10:30, thinking that perhaps she would arrive slightly early (maybe I was giving her too much credit).
By 11:15, I had suspected 3 people of being her, but I was unsure of any of them. I decided to wait for the end of the lecture.
At 11:55 the lecture ended, and I found one of her friends. When I asked who Were-Rabbit was, I received the cryptic reply "Are you an assassin?". To this I replied "Maybe". Showing her loyalty to her friend, she asked me how I would make it worth her while to give away her friend. I offered a packet of biscuits (20 biscuit units), and she accepted.
However, it appears that Were-Rabbit is too lazy to attend her lectures regularly, and so despite finding such an easily bribed friend of my target my blood lust goes unsatiated for a while longer. At least I get to keep the biscuits.
Lurk
STILL NO PROFIT!
Have just killed inco cop Tom Wootten again - properly this time since he wasn't OOB - with killer rabbit. He says he thinks he should have been competant as he made an attempt which hasn't been updated yet. Does that mean he's dead or not? I know killing him doesn't gain me any competance. But it was fun.
As a result of observation and intelligence recieved, I would like to dispute the claims of Steve McCann's handsomeness. His hair isn't particularly impressive either. In fact he looks a little bit pathetic.
As a result of observation and intelligence recEIved, I would like to dispute the claims of Wilderbeest's competence. Her claims that the door to Histon is card-locked and her apparent inability to move faster than the gate into Trinity - the gate driven by machinery that seems older than certain of my supervisors - aren't particularly impressive. In fact...
Dear Wilderbeest,
I apologise if i appear to have gotten at you in the past, i have merely decided that your reports implied that you either haven't been anywhere near your target's addresses (due to the obvious lack of accurate knowledge) or you are being deliberately stupid to try make us less likely to attack you. Obviously the first is untrue due to the assassins' guild honour system, and from your replies it is clear the second isn't true either. I do apologise for assuming that you were pretending to me stupid and it is never my intention to make fun of someone with a disability. But i do like dumb people. I have many stupid friends. They're adorable.
Yours sincerely,
Steve
p.s. I don't think you're that bad, you're trying you best, which is what counts. :)
The Umpire reports:
Is everybody happy? You bet your life we are.
> I have many stupid friends. They're adorable
Awww, thanks Steve :) *fluffles*
I saw the terrible inco Corkscrew today... I chased him around Newnham forecourt for a bit, but he ran away across the Sidgwick Site and I had a supervision to go to. Such a shame.
Better luck next time I suppose...
This evening, at approximately 6pm, I heard a suspicious noise outside my door. Upon further investigation I decided that there may or may not be an assassin outside. Naturally cautious, I picked up a gun, carefully opened and shot around the corner. I didn't hear any blood curdling screams, but did hear the noise of water hitting my neighbour's door. Thus I can only conclude that the door is dead, and no-one else.
INCHES INWEEKS
INCREASEDPOTENCYDgchill
Let's share photos
Propecia, Levitra, Maxaman
Flomax, Tramadol, Diflucan
Congratulation once more from every staff of Lucky Euro Lotto International.
18.10 - Entered Caius Hall in the company of Philip Bielby and Christopher Field MA.
18.15 to 18.40 - Enjoyed yet another sumptuous feast laid on by the Caius kitchens. These students don't appreciate the quality rations you get nowadays.
18.41 - Developed Operation De-doc with Philip Bielby
18.43 - Left Caius Hall
18.45 - Entered Maz's back passage in the company of Philip Bielby and Christopher Field MA.
18.46 - Lost the game.
18.47 - Left Caius via my spankingly ship-shape Porters' Lodge. How proud I am of my force.
18.50 - Resisted the urge to cull a whole row of bicycles while waiting for Philip Bielby to unlock his bike.
18.57 - Arrived in Queens' College. Secured the perimeter and set traps in wait for Tycoonius, Lord of all Business.
19.05 - Sent out a search party to find clementines.
19.07 - Rendezvoused with The Short Arm.
19.09 - Search party returned. No success.
19.11 - Constructed a cosh using my survival skills.
19.27 - Rendezvoused with a Pirate.
19.31 - Spotted Tycoonius, Lord of all Business crossing the road ahead. Taking the lead in the operation, I went out to meet him myself.
19.32 - Coshed Tycoonius, Lord of all Business in the chest, and showing off my strength, dragged the still conscious man into our operations base, the Queens' Porters' Lodge.
19.33 - Rendezvoused with a sock puppet.
19.34 - Death of Tycoonius, Lord of all Business. Stabbed by a Sock Puppet wielding a knife belonging to Philip Bielby to unlock his bike, ably assisted in this task by myself, and shot at the same time by The Short Arm.
19.35 - Left Queens' to return to my beloved Caius, leaving their Porters to clean up the mess
Tonight, I watched with satisfaction the death of the villainous David Birch, who so cruelly murdered a member of our illustrious college. I lent a knife to a dragon (which was controlled by another assassin at this fine college), and let him do the killing of the coshed copper. This was the best death we could come up with, given a distinct lack of clementines.
This evening, we witness the execution of the corrupt officer David Birch by Fire and Water.
Bribery and corruption. They go hand in hand - where there is bribery, there shall be corruption. It is my duty, as the Short Arm of the law, to remove such corruption from the Force. Of course, it would have been poetic justice to execute him with clementines, but having none to hand, we settled for the next best alternative: execution by fire and water.
Thus it was that I was joined in my duties by Russell Holmes and his Rifle of Retribution and Philip Bielby to await his arrival at the Queens' Gate. Long time we waited; Mr. Birch was late for his appointment with death. Yet he finally arrived, and was swiftly subdued by the able Russell Holmes and his Rifle of Retribution, who brought him into the Court of P'lodge to be executed.
His execution was swift and complete. Russell Holmes and his Rifle of Retribution appropriated the defendant's dragon, and I drew my executioner's pistol. Thus was justice delivered to him, by his own fire and my water.
RIP Tycoonius, no longer Lord of all Business. Honourable in his death, if not always in his life.
Tycoonius, Lord of Business grew in power, and wealth, but it was not enough to sate him, he wanted more. Lord of all Creation seemed to be a worthy title, and Tycoonius was blind enough to think he could have it. He believed that the title was his birthright, his destiny, and so the day came when he tried to buy the Gods.
And it angered them...
The Gods took his offerings and pretended to be pleased, while trying to figure out how to deal with him. They took his offerings and they did feast, while all the time Tycoonius waited for the power that was rightfully his. He waited and waited, until he could stand it no more, and so he found himself setting out again to find the Gods. As he was approaching the Gods' temple, he spied a messenger of the Gods approaching.
And it angered him...
They had no right. The Gods had taken his offering in thanks, and said they were pleased. Tycoonius was furious that they send him a messenger, a lesser being, rather than speak to him directly, and so in anger he drew his crossbow and levelled it at the messenger, but the messenger continued to come, oblivious to the danger he faced. Confused, Tycoonius performed the first compassionate act since his potato farming days on the base of Mt. WTF.
He did not shoot.
Maybe he thought it would anger the Gods if he fired. Maybe it was because
the messenger was smiling. Maybe it was because there was a pirate in the
distance, and that was distraction enough. Regardless, Tycoonius did not
resist as the messenger struck him down, and took him helpless into the
entrance of the temple. However, as he was drowning in the temple fountain,
and watching the Gods' pet dragon approaching him he did smile, for he knew
that in death he would finally be free of all toil.
And he did rest.
It's not hugely relevant, but I thought you might like to know that I mutilated the body of Tom Wootten on Friday night on the way back from the radio. Apparently (and it turns out, actually) he had already been killed earlier that day.
I felt a bit naughty since I knew he had made enough attempts to regain competence, but then so had Lauren, and neither of them were up on the site at the time they died. Also, no-one can say he wasn't asking for it.
He's right. Walking the streets of Cambridge unsent is indeed asking for it. However, stabbing me will not resolve that. Only a Summoner can send the dead.
Ergo, I will offer a bounty of 1 bottle of pop to anyone who attempts to send me.
Also on the topic of bounties, since I am no longer a cop, my email is no longer on the site. Bounties previously offered have not yet been claimed. So email tw296@iwant.nospam.cam.ac.uk (remove the friggin' obvious).
Remember I said all who went on the SWAT raid are entitled to claim the bounties for attempts on inco cops.
Comrades,
In further to the announcment recently made concerning the ongoing purge of the security services, the Internal Security office can now announce a resounding success.
The dangerous infiltrator Philip R. Dubb was today eliminated by an agent of Internal Security. He had been identified and tracked to the degenerate hive of capitalism known as Churchill College and was summarily despatched by means of a knife to the chest.
It is a testament to the skill and training of the operatives of the elite wing of the Security Service that not only was the target taken unawares but even his unwitting associates were unable to locate the assassin afterwards and the kill was not remarked upon until the operative had retired to safe distance in order to observe for further insurrectionists.
The people are once again reminded that the penalty for insurrection is inevitable and painful death. There are no exceptions and there is no escaping the fate of all traitors.
This has been an announcement from Internal Security. You are not alone...
Dear Umpire
I am appalled at the lack of card-locked doors and lurkable toilets in Mill Lane. For where else can I practise my l33t assassin skillz that make me so pheared throughout Cambridge? Instead, I hid behind the door of the lecture theatre in which my target was hiding, unaware of my presence (mainly because I couldn't reach the window in the door to see in).
Waiting for at least an hour, he finally approached the door (I could see this because by this point I had found a cardboard box to stand on), which I held open for him, being such a gentleman, then stabbed him in the heart.
Who would pull off such a kill? Surely I, the Most Pheared Assassin in Cambridge, Captain Charismatic, Steph "BOOM BOOM" Merseene, MA
(No autographs or flash photography, please)
Alas, Biclops has fallen. And it was most unspectacular. Saturday morning; after 2 hours of analysis and methods I walked dazed from my lectures almost straight into the knife of my assassin.
Well, you can't win them all.
Yesterday evening between half five and half six, I spent a chilling time lurking the abodes of both El Pollo Diablo and The Hero of Destiny. The one who hath crossed the Gorge of Eternal Pain, via the Bridge of Death: The ever so handsome and magnificent Martin, Lord Mazrael of Leicester. Neither appeared, so I went to a birthday party.
invisibility is as simple as patience and agility.
Went to attempt Michael Wallace this morning. Lurked outside his door from about 9.40 to 10.35, as I considered this prime 'getting up and going to the bathroom / having a shower' time, and more likely to catch him un-prepared than knocking on the door and saying something entirely un-convincing such as 'erm... do you know where James is?'. However, all was quiet. Various other people walked past out in the corridor, but my target was either asleep, out, or being very quiet. At 10.35 I decided I had to abandon in order to get to my (undisclosed sport) match, but thought I may as well try knocking. Scurrying noises proved that there was indeed someone in, who after the third knock opened the door a crack, we both shot RBGs through the gap. However, his bands remained on his side of the door and mine on my side of the door. The door closed. After hanging around a little longer I withdrew to the location in which I had left my bags to leave myself un-hindered. Another round of fire came, this time a water pistol, which missed me entirely. A little time later I withdrew during a lull in activity, and hurried towards the match, at which I arrived only just in time.
*knock knock knock* bleeeugh *knock knock knock* bleeeugh *knock knock knock* eck, bedder, where's the bin...? hmmm, the bedder doesn't usually cover my spyhole...especially on a sunday...where's my gun...? *squirt squirt squirt* *click click click* Are you hit? Don't think so. *runs* Lamer. /me spends the next 10 minutes complaining about lamers coming to my door at this stage in the game
Well, I kinda bopped along to Janet Scott's room hoping for a little bit of foreplay, but she wasn't up for it. Very disappointing indeed Janet! Got chatting to her next door neighbour, BREAKFAST MAN!!! Wow, a dream come true! So, if you don't mind, could you leave your door open a little bit about this time on Tuesday, just face away from the door, read some ok magazine or whatever your fetish is. Shall I pencil us in for then, it is rather impolite to lock your door you know, I always leave my door open for you, just come by and walk on in. Profit.
So, to try and teach the lamer who came to my room on a SUNDAY MORNING to try and kill me, I, er, went to her room on a sunday morning (the same one, coincidentally) to try and kill her. Her next door neighbour moves about far too much at that time of the week. But nothing particularly exciting happened. But seriously, SUNDAY MORNING??
i went to find sarah donelly but couldn't work out burrel's field. I don't think there is a g staircase.
i am currently lurking wei li. The girl does not live in cambridge as far as i can tell. Very puzzling. Have been sat outside 26barton rd for some time now, about a half hour, and i'm cold.
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