The Assassins' Guild - Week 3 News

I lurked outside T-unit's room for 20 mins from 9:35 this morning without seeing him, I guess some people get up earlier than me....(or much later).

With the aid of a trusty insider, I infiltrated the fortress of Cripps' Court this night, at approximately 21.55 hours, with nefarious purposes toward Clay Pigeon. Posing as simply a visitor to the dark and mysterious place, I sneaked up to the floor of my victim-to-be. With my faithful associate, I engaged in conversation with the people I found there, standing in the corridor, unarmed... I tried in vain to espy their room-numbers and to deduce which of them was to die at my hands, but luck was mine, for Clay Pigeon divulged her name willingly in introducing herself, and with a surreptitious movement, I brought forth my rubber-band gun and smote her (mightily). My kill was declared to be awesome by the inebriated bystanders, and so I returned home, happy in the day's doings.

This morning I was rudely awoken at 7:15 by a knocking at my door. My first feeling of annoyance at only getting 6 hours of sleep was soon replaced by suspicion. However, being awake 10 seconds tends not to give you the reactions you need. Upon openning my door, with my highly trained attack Pigs in hand, there was a blur of curly hair and a shout of bang, although nothing came into contact with me. At that point I slammed the door, in their face. Hearing them run off, I decided to use my home turf advantage. Rather then give chase, I ran to a window with a good vantage point and watched as they fled. With the tables turned a made an attempt on his life. My flying attack Pig was launched at him, narrowly missing him by a few metres, despite the thud made when it crash landed my would be assassin turned victim was unaware of this, due to the poor trajectory of my Pig. Also the crash seemed to injure the Pig so that it was unable to give chase. No idea who the attacker was, but if they read this, next time could they call at a more sociable hour.

Another mis-spent morning, as I lurked outside the lodgings of Bob. My water-pistol was primed but alas, once again, my target was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps Fate shall see fit to grant me a kill another time.

Having had the good fortune of being let out of class early, I remembered that one of my targets (Pepper) had classes close by. Knowing their subject but not their options, I waited outside the building between 11.50 and 12.10. apparently they don't do that option.

So, finally, Chatterton is dead. After trying to gain access to his building, I finally managed today. After failing to kill him while waiting around for about 20 minutes for him to return just outsde his room at 11:30(although i later found out he was just sleeping...), I managed to catch him on his way out at around 3:50 when I returned for another try.

Von Hildebrandt spent today
wading through forgotten dens
the relics of broken crime
syndicates still honey
for knaves
Victorian slums
manifesting in mists
tendril finger embraces
with ghosts

masquerading as a whisper
afloat on the breeze
he winded his way
with ease
toward another
lost soul
whose portal ajar
received such solemn gifts
as to uncover the eternal veil
and loosen the straitjacket
of being

he gazed long into
the abyss
to know
life and death come
and
go
marionettes
dancing on a table
wind their strings
ever tighter
till
cut
they fall

deed done
the crumbling dagger
he threw away
he vowed to
entrench his enlightenment
in fetid effusions and enact
resolutions to a lighter
being

Feeling bored, so headed off to Fitz with Haukr to try and reduce the inco population.

Tried to lure 234 out by talking very loudly (and also knocking quite loudly) to his door while Haukr hid around the corner....however his friends in the gyp room opposite soon noticed me and helpfully informed me that I had probably got the wrong block. Having no choice then but to leave, I was almost out of the block when said target opened the door a fraction and Haukr immediately fired off a few rounds. With lightning speed, he closed his door and after collecting his weaponry a duel between Haukr and the target began in his corridor. I meandered off outside to see try his window. Unluckily it was closed but to my great surprise he suddenly decided to lean out allowing me to shoot him :)

Whilst retiring from an impromptu staircase party with some more funky lunkeys, Cakeface notices an assassine negotiating the stairs in the oposite direction with a suspiciously damp rucksack. Instantly recognising her as that peculiar red-coated girl with an unusual penchant for hanging around outside his room at funny hours, Cakeface jumps into action. Taking the oppurtunity to grab his knife from his room, Cakeface minces out into the hall and lays waste to none other than Haukr!

After a brief impromptu post-mortem chat, revealing the girl to be delightfully amiable and making Cakeface feel rather bad for having ended her life, the pie-headed idiot heads home.

I have lurked for The Flying Squirrel Squad no fewer than three times now. Has she disappeared off the face of the earth? Or is she merely very busy?

I was passing by the college of three legal targets - one of which is on my specified list and two others who are not worthy of the title "Assassin".

I thought I might check out the place and see if I could get a kill. First, I lurked around Jiminez's room for about 10-15 minutes (from about 10:40). After nothing happened, I moved on to the next floor where two incompetents, hank and Juggles Geese are resident. Again, after much waiting around, none of the targets left the security of the rooms (although, I don't actually know if they were there or not).

One is left to wonder though, how both those incompetents are able to live next door to each other and survive...

I saw Vice Admiral Horatio T Loins in a shop today. He was not wearing a hat. He was, however, wearing a look of abject horror on his face, as he said hi, and then promptly ran for it. I gave chase, but had left unattended business in the shop, namely on the floor where I dropped it, and I also can't run for shit. So I let him get away.

Carlsberg don't make fails. But if they did...

Went and lurked Cogito Ergo Nom this evening around dinner time for about 15 mins; alas they did not leave their room and when I tried their door it was locked :(

A knocking came at my door at 18.18 hours. Then the handle turned ominously, as someone attempted to enter. I called out "hello" and heard a noise as of scurrying feet. Peering through my peephole, I espied someone hiding behind the door to my alcove... just out of my sight. My suspicions were aroused, and I grabbed my trusty rubber band gun, just as I heard the slamming sound of the door to the stairs. On exiting my room, I found the corridor empty...

Paranoia: +10

I decided to have another attempt on Palahniuk's Laughter today, heading down to his residence just before I expected him to get back from dinner. A quick knock on the door confirmed that he didn't appear to be in, so I lurked around his stairwell for a bit. Like the friendly neighbourhood assassin that I am, I offered to help the porter move some boards, then returned to lurking, eventually leaving at 10 to 7 as there was still no sign of him (I checked his room again before I left).

On my way out, I decided to see if the incompetent Juggles Geese was in, but was informed by the people of his corridor that he'd been assassinated earlier today. After having something pointed out to me which I may find useful in the future, I left, still without having seen either of the people I had come to attack.

I went hunting for Juggles Geese today in Selwyn. After searching the main college building I finally discovered that he actually lived in Cripps. I proceeded there and lurked his room for 15 minutes, but without success. I then wandered off into the night, and prowled around certain other abodes hoping to find someone to slay. However, I was disappointed, as no-one was about.

I would like to propose a topic for the next meeting of the society outside whih Miss Pendlebury was so unfortunate as to meet me tonight:

"If I was an alien," said Pepper, "I wouldn't go round telling people all about mystic cosmic harmony. I'd say 'Thish ish a lasher blashter, sho you do what you're told, rebel shwine.'"

Discuss.

Grey sunlight pierced the drapes this morning, stirring me from my eternal slumber. It was gonna be one of those days. Taking a shot of the old Dutch courage - plus another to calm my nerves, then one more for luck - I headed out onto the sodden streets of downtown Cambridge towards the Arts School Lecture Theatre. Funny name for an establishment, and a real dive of a place it was too. Some might say that ten before noon is a mite early to be hitting the bottle, but my trip wasn't for pleasure, so to speak. No, I was a man on a mission. Word had it one of my marks - some chump going by the moniker of Gingerlink - would be drowning his sorrows there this morning.

Ducking in from the drizzle, I pulled up a pew towards the back of the joint and watched the riff-raff filter in. Something in the air - maybe it was the smell - stirred up images of halcyon days gone by. Seems I spent a lot of time in this place not so long ago, though it seems a lifetime away now. I was younger then, greener: thought I could take on the whole world if I had to. Now I'm just a washed up old dick with nothing to show for it. Time is harsh mistress in Cambridge, and she moves on quick.

I spied my number - least, I think it was him; all I had to go off was a single grainy photograph left back in the office, swiped from an album belonging to an associate of the guy, but something in my gut told me I had my man - anyway, there he was propping up the bar. Didn't want to ice him right there and then - no - that'd just cause a scene. So I waited, keeping one peeper trained on him as I absorbed a little bit of the local colour, if you know what I'm saying. Coulda sworn I spotted a spook lurking out front at one point, but, well, seems something musta spooked him 'cause he took off like a shot.

Eventually my guy got up to leave, so I grabbed my coat made good to tail him, except just then it seemed every other bozo in the joint decided they had somewhere they'd rather be. By the time I forced my way through the rabble onto the rain-slick cobbles, ol' Gingerlink had hightailed it to God only knows where.

Like I say, one of those days.

My plan for a nice walk out to the northern reaches of Cambridge was alas defeated by a veritable cavalade of precipitation. Taking shelter in Wolfsen Court at 11:03 according to my chronometer, I paid a visit to the room of the Spark The Swan of Mantua. Sadly, though I watched his door for a quarter of an hour or so I saw no movement. Even worse, a bedder arrived, so I decided to call the escapade quits and wandered back home through the rain.

Litthhhhper, the cheeky but loveable bear, son of Gulbert the oddly yellow, awoke from hibernation today due to the unseasonally hot weather (......). He hadn't eaten for weeks and was now ravenous with hungry, so with thoughts of great fuzziness he urged his feet to carry him to the delicatessen, where those foolish (but tasty) humans left food strewn about to tempt the urban bear gangs into open warfare. A human (James Brister) stood between him and the cornflakes, enraging him sufficiently for a cheeky but loveable mauling.

At about 16:20 today I killed Chili on the stairs outside his room- after waiting on the floor above for half an hour. He was shot with a nerf gun whilst trying to flee, but this was fruitless as a dart hit him in the ribs.

Carlsberg don't make vengeance, but if they did, it would come in the form of finding your psychofresher godson's corpse, and the killer still there and bearing. Shooty shooty.

Cakeface and Diogenes head on over to Birdland for more light-hearted third-person banter. Whilst passing through, Cakeface can't help but notice a problem with Jupiter Justice's door. Not thinking it right for such an upstanding member of the public doughnut-eating squad to live in such substandard haunts, Diogenes decides to knock on his door and make a point of telling him.

HAHAHA! What a pun. Point.

After recovering from their nifty bit of synchronised knife juggling, Cakeface and Diogenes head on over to the Hoglump Homestead. On the way to their mark's door, Cakeface can't help but espy some slightly peculiar looking people heading in the other direction. Well, actually, they weren't that peculiar. Or even heading in the opposite direction. And there was only one of them. But reports always seem to sound classier with the word "espy" in them. Anyway, a good half-hour lurk for a certain Jiminez yields no joy.

Later, the bun-brained nincompoop and Diogenes pop over to the Patisserie, where poor brevity seems all too surprised to open the door to a heavily-armed Diogenes. After confirming the enduring existance of a special place near his heart for pistol water, the pair leave - only stopping off to grab a cream bun, with which Cakeface promptly stuffs their, er, face.

The pair head home.

Taking a detour on the way to lectures this morning, I found myself outside the college of Othar Trygvassen, Gentleman Adventurer. It was 9:10 when I arrived, so I knew he probably wouldn't be in, but some recon never hurts. I find out he lives in the most assassin unfriendly college. Narrow alleyways and multiple courts meant it was 10 minutes before I found his building. Then it is locked with a keypad, without the code I have to wait and go in behind someone else. To my further dismay, I find he lives on a corridor with ridiculous creaky wooden floorboards and multiple staircases meaning sneaking around is hard and unlikely to succeed. After lurking around trying to find a useful ambush point, I called it a day and headed off at 9:30.

Skídbladnir could not find Philip Hubbard in any of the furniture or kitchen stores of Cambridge, even after careful scrutiny of their cupboards. (cringe) And so he decided to use the old 'ask a friend' ruse. Skídbladnir would like to observe that going to lectures presents a serious health hazard. Having found Philip Hubbard, the target proceeded to fall onto Skídbladnir's knives and stained them with his blood. Skídbladnir feels that this warrants legal action for malicious and wanton defacement of property and will be taking the case up with his legal advisors.

After lurking my target's room for quite some time, I was rewarded by him returning from lectures. Whereupon he was stabbed and nobody noticed a thing as his lifeless carcass fell to the floor.

Having the misfortune of once again being late to my lecture, I had forgotten that someone (Trinity) was trying to kill me and had classes close by, until I saw a her-shaped object and several rather distinctive friends through the door of her classroom. I waited outside, and she failed to evade my rubber bands.

I saw Mr Simeon Bird today. He was wearing a hat. A cycling hat.

Once again having infiltrated the college of Colin Love, at 5 I waited. I could hear music and shuffling in his room. Using the noise from two girls chatting and someone using a hairdrier for a really long time as cover, I knocked on his door. As he moved nearer to the door, to my horror, I realise there is a peephole, yet another assassin unfriendly measure of this college. The door never openned and I backed away. Deciding that this guy may have been curious I waited in the stairwell for a while. Realising he was not going to exit soon, I write a note from his friendly neighbourhood assassin and knock on his door, leave the note and return to the stairwell. In the 5 minutes I waited he did not appear, so at 5:20 I leave tail between my legs.

Deciding I have some more spare time a trip to Pepper was needed. Using one of my spies located in their area I began stalking her building. No sooner then I had gained access did I receive another tip off. It seems my spies are everywhere these days so beware. Apparently for the 2nd time this week a creepy guy who I believe is known as Gingerlink, although it could be another one of the people out to get me, was stalking my corridor. So deciding its best to ambush someone who believe they are ambushing you I left Pepper's college at 5:45.

Returning to my home at 5:55 I was disappointed to find no sight of my assassin. The blaggard had obviously acheived his 15 minutes before I returned. So with nothing gained other than an extra days competence I sit back for a quiet night in?

I will leave this message, Gingerlink, Pepper and Colin Love, my spies are everywhere, you cannot sneeze without me knowing it, I will find you and I will get you.

At 17:20 there came a knocking at my door. Lo and behold I espied a figure outside. Gathering together my weaponry I proceeded to open the door. Alas my assailant had already fled the scene. He left me a note, in which insinuated that I was cheating due to the use of my ownership of a peephole. He also left by a different exit to the one I lurked. Oh well. He say he'll be back.

Turning up to Palahniuk's Laughter's locale at 5.45pm, I decided this time to try and make an attack on him before he might go to dinner. Getting increasingly suspicious that some of the other residents may have tipped my target off, I waited around until about 5 past 6, at which point I would've expected him to have left.

Despite the fact his marker said he was in, there was absolutely no response from a final knock on the door, it looks like he's decided to use some sort of reverse reverse psychology on me.

Never mind, my plans for tomorrow include gathering more information by bribing corpses with cheese.