The Assassins' Guild - Week 4 News
The Assassins' Guild - Week 4 NewsJust had someone try to kill me as I came back from sorting out the recycling in my staircase. As I went into my room, I heard a scuffle behind me and something hit the floor next to me, but I didn't feel anything. Commenting "I appear to have been quite lucky", I quickly entered my room.
I felt it necessary to watch from the safety of my room from that point and my assassin was spooked by someone else coming out of a room on the next floor.
12:04 Arrive in target's staircase
12:05 Am in position on Target staircase
12:06 Am in better position on target staircase
12:07 Still in position
12:08 Leave position to investigate kitchen
12:09 Target has nothing in his cupboards. Hope he doesn't get hungry.
12:10 Return to position
12:11 Nothing of note
12:12 Nothing of note
12:13 Sound of Female Cleaner talking to someone
12:14 Sound of male voice heard on floor below
12:15 Target is opening door. Alas my position of stealth does not give me
an optimal firing position so the round goes wide. Target notes that "That
was Lucky" and shuts door.
12:16 Reload
12:17 Lurking
12:18 Reclaim ammo
12:19 Still lurking
12:20 Nothing of note
12:21 Leave as someone in the room behind me heads out and disrupts my
lurking position.
After an inspiring talk, at around 6 I walked over to Magdalene armed and curious as to whether Kupfernickel wanted to come down and get himself shot. Fed up with waiting, I left after twenty minutes or so. Alas, Kupfernickel lives another day.
After stopping by the residence of Tinkerbell and finding her absent from the premises, that or her friends were good at covering for her, I decided to lurk outside the very hungry caterpillar's room for around 15 minutes. Sadly on my departure, with nothing to show for the wait, I was cruelly gunned down by a fellow police officer with an over developed trigger finger. The poor chap thought I was an incompetent and to his credit he was most polite to my twitching corpse.
Police Corruptible Brooks had heard that there were some people being naughty and not making attempts on people. He thought that leaving them and not killing them would be the sort of thing a corrupt police officer would do. Police Corruptible Brooks didn't want people to think him corrupt, no not him.
He went to visit the very hungry caterpillar who was not in. He tried lurking in her shower but she had gotten clean away.
Not disheartened, he visited Tinkerbell, and after much getting lost he found her house. The door was locked and noone was answering the door, so he stood around for a bit then left. He returned to the very hungry caterpillar's room and she still wouldn't come and play with him. Having decided the shower was crap, he went and sat on the toilet instead, lurking unseen.
Now as an aside, it is worth pointing out the competence conditions on a player are a 15 minute lurk, whereas a policeman need only knock on the door. Bear this in mind.
So the brave and gallant Police Corruptible Brooks was sitting on the toilet, merrily playing with his weapon as he watched girls going by. Suddenly, there enters a man, looking suspicious, walking in that shift "I shouldn't be here" way that aroused Police Corruptible Brooks and his suspicions. This man resembled (to a rather good extent) a known incompetent player so Police Corruptible Brooks decided to wait and see what he did. He knocked on the very hungry caterpillar's door and then backed off and waited. Now as noted, no sane policeman would lurk on the corridor of an inco for precisely 15 minutes, then leave, whereas an incompetent might do.
It was at this point, as the man was leaving, in a way fitting for a man who had achieved his goal of competence, that Police Corruptible Brooks shot him. It was also at this point that PC. Apple congratulated him on a good job, and asked if this would make Police Corruptible Brooks wanted. A brief discussion later discovering that the incorruptible Police Corruptible Brooks might have become corrupt and they walked back from the room.
Here they met D.I. Nner who was whistling and looking dapper in his black tie outfit. They discussed their merry mishaps and strolled back into town in a jovial manner.
Lurked for The Cossack outside his room for ages. No sign of him. Felt very silly. Gave up after 3/4 hour.
Police Corruptible Brooks had been mistakenly placed on the corrupt list which made him sad. He assumed the umpire had made a typo on the webpage so proceeded to attempt to point out her error.
He first went to visit Kupfernickel but noone would open the door for him, so after much door ringing and hanging around he left.
Police Corruptible Brooks then went to visit The Kreaper who appeared not to be in, which was a shame. However being in the vicinity, he popped in to see Strawberry who had been lazy. She was in fact not being lazy but doing work, but this deterred him not, and he shot her as she gave an impressive squeal. That should prove his loyalty to the police.
He then headed towards Robinson where Javert sat working at his computer, until he had his fill of bacon. Police Corruptible Brooks was weening out the bad police from the force, a task that could surely not go unrewarded.
A trip to Selwyn (requiring Police Corruptible Brooks to corrupt an innocent by making them open a door) was fruitless as hank was out.
Police Corruptible Brooks decided that he had shown he had strong belief in the force but should prove his worth by clearing this city of the worthless folk who dirty its good name. He proceeded to try and kill the very hungry caterpillar but it transpired the doors are locked at 11:30, the porters are unfriendly and noone enters or leaves in 20 minutes spent waiting. He was, however, not discouraged. There were more incompetents out there.
He went back to see Kupfernickel and this time his neighbours were much more friendly and opened the door for him. Police Corruptible Brooks had a real chance now. He used all his cunning to knock on the door then run away. Police Corruptible Brooks was obliging and opened the door. A very nice chap, but niceties were for the weak. A blast to the face allowed me to interrogate his corpse. It turns out the Chief of Police, D.I. Nner had supplied him with pictures of Police Corruptible Brooks and given advice on how to kill him in the days before he joined the force and while he was not wanted or incompetent. This meant Police Corruptible Brooks's suspicions had been correct, that D.I. Nner had been corrupt all along, abusing his position. Maybe someone needs to show him the true force of the force.
Emphasising once again the need for constant vigilance, even once you're dead, a certain Police Corruptible Brooks arrived in my humble study at around 11:30 tonight, while I was engaged in postulating the importance of different status groups in the development of religion within Max Weber's sociology. Unfortunately I had failed to consider one particularly important status group, that of assassins, who have the potential to bring you into very close proximity with your religious ideals. In other words, I just got killed by some bloke wielding a squeaky toy.
Much (necrophilious) love
Javert
Went after Cakeface at about 10:30 this evening (13th). Said target was out, and his next-door neighbour opened his door to me. It seemed that my cover was blown, but I lurked about for half an hour to see if he would return. Gave up and came home.
Heard knock on door at 12:15. Looked through peep-hole to see an empty corridor, and thinking that my assailant had lost his nerve, opened the door knife-in-hand. put head out of door, only to have head blown off by well-aimed water pistol of Police Corruptible Brooks.
As a spur of the moment decision, I agreed to take part in a poker game being played. As we were waiting outside the room where we were collecting the chips, someone else met up with us and introduced his associate.
Thinking they looked familiar and knowing why instantly, I plunged my hands into my pocket and clenched my fist around something, a regular bog standard pen, no good, a couple more moments ruffling, somehow not having alarmed my target yet, I found a knife (or more rather, a suitably labelled pen this time) and plunged the knife into my target's shoulder.
It appears I was particularly lucky on two accounts today. As such, the laughter has ended
Poker comes down to a game of chance and tonight my luck ran out.
Invited to a game of poker by a friend at his college I leave, with slight suspicions and a bad feeling. I arrive cautiously but my friend arrives only and we hang out for a bit. During this time I mention to him that I thought he may have been luring me here as a trap for a college friends of his.
Its getting progressively later and I comment I should really go back home and not stay up playing poker. But then we get the call that the game is starting and head off. As I am being introduced to the other players, I hold my hand out to shake this guys hand. He has his hands in his pocket, thinking it nothing more then the usual social awkwardness of a mathmo or similar who plays poker I offer my hand to the next guy. It's at that point that the first guy removes his hand from his pocket holding a pen labelled Knife and it was sunk into my back a moment later. I had failed to recognise my arch-nemesis Barbatulus and I paid for it with my life, time of death 10:10pm or so.
We then have a friendly chat about our past run ins and then get down to the serious business of Poker. I warn him that I was going to take him out of this game as revenge. Needless to say I am a man of my word and soon his money was mine. A8 beating Q7 or so, for those who care. It turns out he may be a half decent assassin, but he is so crap at Poker that a Corpse can beat him.
After making it to week 5 I have little to show for my efforts. So I kindly request some kind of award. Lamest death as I was killed offering my hand to my assassin. Fastest revenge for taking his money in a game of Poker?
Your sincerely Palahniuk's Laughter.
Whilst drunkenly staggering back from the pub, Cakeface and pals decide to pop into Kambar for a boogie. Whilst chatting up a certain funky lunkey outside, Cakeface is made aware that - bonne chance! - The Cossack may well be somewhere close by! Quickly making his apologies, Florentine-features dashes off inside to conduct some snoopery.
After a quick five-minute whip around, Cakeface finally locates the poor chap in nowhere else but the gents' room. Being a sociable sort of pastry, Cakeface considers introducing himself then and there, however with his target presently urinating, he concludes that this might not be the most appropriate course of action.
Tragically, The Cossack decides to turn away whilst washing his hands. Cakeface whips out his mighty weapon and administers an industrial-sized load of sneaky-sneaky!
After quickly saying hi, Cakeface heads back to the bar.
Russians have a few tiny weaknesses. Well... their not actually weaknesses, more like unusual habits. For example vodka. Drinking it is what gives us Cossacks might, but at a mild price of course. Thus after a long night of leisure i was brutally manslaughtered... by vodka. Cleverly disguised as Comrade Cakeface, who was able to track me to my All Soviet Drinking Party and empty a fistful of watery lead into my head when i was clumsy enough to leave my bodyguards and go to the toilet. I feel no anger towards Cakeface, on the contrary my anger is completely turned towards my bodyguards (who fail to notice the assasin) the FSB ( who were not able to track the leak of information concerning my identity) and of course vodka... ahh who am i kidding...
How UNSCIENTIFIC of you, The Cossack! A most conducive hint indicates to me that you may be in the Kambar tonight, so at around 1:40am, I head there, in search of you. But oh, no, apparently you've got wasted and gone to Gardies! A science-devoid mission to Gardies leaves no The Cossack. So I wander around the Vans of Life and Death a bit more, and places are still apparently The Cossack-free. NEGATIVE SCIENCE D:
I'm detecting a distinct lack of SCIENCE! here. Or rather, a distinct lack of Gingerlink. This rather shoddy investigation did prove that lectures finishing at 12 do not necessarily yield an Assassin returning to their room between 12:10 and 12:35. How dismally unscientific. Another dismally unscientific thing is that someone in the general vicinity of my rather basic lurking spot suddenly stopped near me and started texting. ZOMGZ PARANOIA so I went to get a drink, then lurked moar whilst drinking this drink. Side effects of this experiment did entail seeing one Assassin, who walked past blissfully unawares, but since this was, according to RESEARCH!, not Gingerlink, and going wanted is the least scientific thing evar, I did not shoot him. He did not see me.
Police Corruptible Brooks was slightly worried to see that the umpire had not rectified the umpire's slight error of having him declared corrupt, so he decided that he should further prove his loyalty. He came across the very hungry caterpillar and called out her name (he didn't want her to be another one of these cops disguised as players). He reached for his gun and as he made his first shot a cavalier bystander came careering in front of him absorbing some of the shot. His second shot was unblocked however and swiftly ended the life of the very hungry caterpillar
Police Corruptible Brooks wondered to himself if it was possible that this string of unfortunate "accidents" he was having might be due to him being one of these corrupt police officers. Then the thought better of it.
Today Prof P. T. Johnstone attended an interesting Linear Algebra lecture, however it did not have enough bijections for my taste. In any case, following the lecture Prof P. T. Johnstone spotted Someone Somwhere, who tried the novel technique of pretending she wasn't Someone Somwhere. Unfortunately for her his knife had already performed a non-trivial bijection puncturing her lung. Then innocently trundling back through his own college of St Johns, Prof P. T. Johnstone happened upon the wizard Othar Trygvassen, Gentleman Adventurer. Now, thought Prof P. T. Johnstone, I quite agree with magic, as it is obviously formed by bijections from the set of all bijections of the ring of reals modulo p. But his knife eager for blood found it's way deep into the wizards heart, entirely against the will of Prof P. T. Johnstone.
I am sorry to say I must report my death. Outside lectures today while I was unlocking my bike, a fellow came up to me and poked me with something and then asked me if I was Emma. "Ah... no" I replied, assuming it was a bangun and he hadn't said bang. I then chatted with him for a few minutes ("You assassins are weird people" etc), wondering how I could surreptitiously take my gun out of my bag and shoot him. He then said sorry for killing me, and I realised he had in fact stabbed me with a knife, so I admitted that I was indeed Emma.
Whilst walking towards the main gate of John's at around 1:20 I was stabbed in to chest by a man who walked up from behind me. No idea whether our meeting was down to luck or judgment on his part. Turns out I should have tried to have another go at Gingerlink instead of heading home.
Police Corruptible Brooks had had a busy morning what with the mix up involving the innocent, so he took a cycle ride to cool his mind.
He found himself at Homerton where he had heard there were some lazy people around. He went to visit The Cossack but his door was locked, he wasn't answering and there were innocents around. Police Corruptible Brooks deiced shooting these innocents would be bad, so he went downstairs where he stumbled across Matt Parkman's room. Regrettably he seemed uninclined to open the door (or he wasn't in)
Police Corruptible Brooks went to see an old friend, and while he was visiting him was able to get to Detritus's room and knock on her door but she too appeared out.
Police Corruptible Brooks was starting to believe people had lives. This was a scary thought.
So, it appears that The Cossack was not present at his abode. Later reports confirm that he has the dubious excuse of lying dead in the Kambar toilets at the time. I wonder when they'll fish the body out?
A dark shadowy street corner. The two figures walked towards each other. One of them The Hands of Blue handed PC Nobbs the gun he had been craving. "Now go kill those incos" were the instructions he had been given. PC Nobbs headed off, the bloodlust (slightly inappropriate for a policeman I know) already roaring around his skull. He bypassed Police Corruptible Brooks in search of His main target the very hungry caterpillar. Upon arrival at Newhall he realised his crucial weakness. The heightened senses from his rage had not only eradicated any sense of direction he had but also spiked his inherent sense of Paranoia to new heights. As he stared around in impotent fury he realised that the firndish architect had neglected to put any signs on the wall to lead him to his target. Blaming his defective directions from his contact he stromed into the night raging to himself (and secretly hoping the Police force would take him of the incompetance list)
Deciding to do my laundry today, I was being particularly careful leaving my room, expecting another assassin to be lurking on the floor below. I was less expecting one to be lurking on the balcony below. Walking by, they quickly turned around and shot me with their water pistol, my laundry taking most of the hit. Realising their intent and the following question of "have I got you?" I made sure to check this AS I was running away. Turned out I had an arm wound but was otherwise fine.
Reaching a corner in the balcony, I turned around in an attempt to attack back, but with only my bad hand, my aiming wasn't exactly great. Avoiding more shots being fired, I quickly leapt down the stairs and onto the court, knowing that my assassin was now more likely to take a sniping position. Hearing a spray of water following me, I sprinted as fast as I count all the way along the court to the laundry room, where I decided to camp out for a while, injured and weaponless.
Tonight the defences of Robinson College have been broached. Barbatulus's inner sanctum has been thoroughly penetrated. In fact, Barbatulus would have been well and truly buggered...had I not got so excited that I shot too soon, causing him to run away for fear of my awesome weapon.
I remember it like it was only yesterday, which is strange because it was earlier today. It's the same old story, just another quiet day at the office when all of a sudden in walks some broad looking to sucker some honest Joe like myself into doing her dirty work. You know how it goes, a fluttering of lashes, the right few words slipping off the most gorgeous pair of ruby reds you've ever seen, and all of a sudden you're wrapped around her little finger. Seems this particular dame had some creep she needed taking care of, but for one reason or another she hadn't managed to do it herself. That's where I came in.
Later than evening I found myself in my usual watering hole, the Churchill Hall. I don't know what in Sam Hill's going on with the names is this crazy mixed-up town, but that's just the way goes. There I am at the bar telling the barman to fix me up a plate of whatever slop happens to be on the menu tonight, when who should pull up beside me but the very man I'm after - one Mister Black Shadow. Suddenly I'm getting cold feet about the whole operation, so I retire to the back of the joint where I can keep my eye on him while I mull things over with a bottle of the house's finest. After a while I Think to myself, well, why the heck not? At the end of the day I guess I'm just a sucker for a pretty face, and besides, maybe I'd get lucky and he'd just so happen to be one of the guys coming after me. It was about twenty-three minutes past six when I finally polished off the last of the sauce and got up to make my move. Pulling out the little knife in had my pocket, I waltzed over to where he was seated - to busy yakking away with his compadres to notice little ol' me walking over to him - and stabbed in the back: quick, clean, deadly. Says a little something about the joint that nobody so much as batted an eyelid while I made good my escape.
I am obviously not paranoid enough while eating. This shall be rectified.
The ill twin of evil energy spent too much time not finding assassins today (or at least live assassins). He bumped into and refrained (with much sorrow) from shooting the corpse of Palahniuk's Laughter. Later on he lurked for Barbatulus without success. The only ray of light came when he found an assassin on the same mission. Alas the assassin fled before The ill twin of evil energy could say anti-distinctly-minty-muntinism. In retrospect, he feels he probably shouldn't have wasted time doing this.
Just had another attempt on me, well, sort of.
I returned from formal and heard talking upstairs, someone was asking if the other guy had seen me. Expecting the obvious, I stopped going up the stairs and waited. Hearing my assassin come down the stairs a bit, I could see his leg, but it was just out of reach of my knife. He stopped and probably realised I was there because he then headed back up the stairs.
Currently being particularly poorly armed, I decided it was a good time to go and check on my laundry.
One of my neighbours woke me up this morning complaining that he'd been shot six times in the head by a RBG wielding, black-haired assassin.
Whoever you are, that's rather naughty.
Hearing someone go up to the kitchen today, I immeadiately became suspicious, so went to have a look in the hallway, interestingly, it was 2 minutes later that an assassin came up. From my room, I intended to launch a surprise attack, but was thwarted by the fact my door was actually locked.
Watching my assassin creep around, I waited until he'd decided he'd had enough (although first trying my door and attempting knocking). Seeing him head downstairs, I hoped he'd emerge onto the upper balcony, meaning I could rain watery death down upon him. Luckily, this was the case and I had taken down The ill twin of evil energy.
1 less left
Rumours of the death of The ill twin of evil energy have not in fact been greatly exaggerated. He did not have a good day. He foolishly shot an innocent in the morning and spent the rest of the day searching recklessly for other assassins to redeem himself. He realised he'd found one when he noticed his body lying several metres away in the gutter.
Waking late on Saturday morning, Constable Icrtgly reached for his hip-flask of Red Bull. The drunken frivolities of the night before the morning after had left him somewhat worse for wear. About an hour after rising from his slumber, Icrtgly was wandering through his flat in his fluffy pink dressing gown with a mug of coffee. Hearing a curious knock at the door, he opened it to an empty corridor. Suddenly he heard the sound of an RBG being cocked from behind, and smelt the aroma of a particularly sprinkled donut. Swivelling round, he noticed that his window had had a perfectly circular section taken out of it, and that the chief of police was casually standing in front of him. Even more curious was the fact that the diameter of the hole in the window, was far smaller than the diameter of D.I. Nner's donut-infused belly.
Icrtgly: "Good morning detective inspector"
Nner: "Mornin'" *omnomnom* "Fancy a bit of inco-bashing tonight?"
Icrtgly sought the perfect words to reply with. He needed to make a suitably epic and awe-inspiring comment, lest the moment went down in history and records showed him to be a true jack-ass.
Icrtgly: "Sure."
Dammit.
Heading north to the hive of scum, villainy, feminism and double-barrelled college names, Icrtgly still equipped for battle in his Kevlar-infused lilac dressing gown, they loaded up at a nearby armoury, before searching out a certain Tinkerbell. Lurking the target's house didn't prove too successful, but the two policemen certainly made a cute couple to innocent bystanders observing the pair of them huddled beneath a single cheap black umbrella purchased from Borders.
Anyway, a brief excursion to Churchill revealed that Black Shadow or indeed any of the people in his staircase, were absent as all the lights were out...hmmm....
And no one seemed to want to go to hall either..
Once again I return from [college removed] unsatisfied and feeling very frustrated.
Had another Assassin trying to kill me today as I came back from Brunch. I decided to use someone living on the floor above me as cover, as they were going to their room anyway, because them going up first was likely to cause a reaction from a possible assassin. Turns out I spotted the assassin first, seeing a hand on the railing at the top floor, deciding to run away and leaving my neighbour to almost get shot by the assailant.
I'd like to report a strange incident involving the living dead. During the meeting of a certain society that happens on Sunday evenings, a corpse was seen to take an RBG and shoot Police Corruptible Brooks. A pen labelled "knife" was also thrown at the poor policeman, though not by the aforementioned corpse. Thankfully, however, we were in a society meeting, and so none of this happened, and the dead do not, in fact, walk the earth. Just thought you'd like to know.
Police Corruptible Brooks decided to take a night off from shooting innos. "Incos,
that's where I've been going wrong" he cursed to himself as he
remembered. Police Corruptible Brooks relaxed, among friends and with nothing to worry
about.
P.C. Bob, it appeared, was out to scupper his plans for an easy life.
She was the dame who had been gratitiously shooting people the night
before in his presence but he was powerless to stop her.
Tonight was no different. She drew forth a pistol from her bag and was
about to continue her brutal rampage. Police Corruptible Brooks couldn't stop her, not
with a police force as corrupt as this, but he could at least save
some innocent lives. That would be enough reward for Police Corruptible Brooks, no
ticker tape parade but a feeling of making a stand for good.
Police Corruptible Brooks cunningly blocked the barrel of the gun so all the death
encased in it was unable to leave. All shots fired came out blank.
P.C. Bob almost seemed to let this pass, only using a knife to cut off
his arm. A minor price in exchange for the innocents he saved.
FUD Security Test Report 10:00 17/11/2008
Software Tested: Gingerlink v. 1.42
Test Duration: 1 hour
Authentication Failed. No security vulnerabilities detected.
New to The Force, Constable Duke (not THE Duke - thats a totally different person...!) wanted to make an impression to his new employers. He made his way to [UNSPECIFIED_COLLEGE] looking for one of his colleagues who seems adverse to work. Upon arriving he quickly located the block and gained entry. It was at about this time that he realised he couldn't remember the name of the person he was there to visit...this wasn't useful! He therefore satisfied himself with some reccy of the block and some odd looks from persons unknown before making his way out and back to his day job.
Investigation into vital status of Gingerlink, part II- profit.
After lunch, I decided to head into the porter's lodge to check for any mail before braving my staircase. This was obviously the wrong way around to do things and was shot in the back by SCIENCE! as I left.
Police Corruptible Brooks couldn't quite remember when he last shot an innocent, but he had a vague recollection of having done so. He thought he should try and redeem to be on the safe side.
Steven Seagal was the first person he went to see. Unfortunately Police Corruptible Brooks has poor vision and so didn't see him. His door was not open and he wasn't answering it.
Police Corruptible Brooks trooped off to Madgalene where he found The Kreaper's door locked. Luckily, the door was soon opened and The Kreaper was shot.
Police Corruptible Brooks hoped that this would keep the heat off his back for the time being.
Spent part of Monday evening at Churchill, lurking passage between Big Kahuna Burger's room and Hall. Seems like no one is ever around Churchill?!?!
GRRRRRRRRRRRRR.
Chopped up Pepper tonight. She died with incredible politeness.
"Huh," said Pepper, summing up their feelings.
The Umpire recently received this mysterious message:
I would like to post an anonymous bounty of 200 biscuit-units on the killing of Amy Booth. The bounty will be doubled if she is bang-killed or whilst carrying a pile of non-society related folders.
For two hours I lurked.
No target: at home, perhaps?
Lazy? Paranoid?
Police Corruptible Brooks hadn't been out hunting innos in a while so he made the long
trip out to Churchill. Once there he very quickly found an innocent
and shot him. He then remembered he was meant to kill innocents. He
looked into his heart and saw he truly had become one of them. He no
longer saw the difference between the two and was killing mercilessly.
Police Corruptible Brooks shook his head, took a swig of the whiskey you saved for such
occaisions and went out to prove he was different.
It was sixty seconds of panic, but then he found one of them. Steven Seagal
was sitting there cooly staring at his computer screen, and continued
to do so as Police Corruptible Brooks left, only with his eyes glazed over.
hank was riding his luck more than was healthy. Maybe he had insider
information, maybe it was just good fortune but it still irked
Police Corruptible Brooks
Diogenes was clearly not in D.I. Nner's inner circle of
protection and so she ate a well placed pig, as Police Corruptible Brooks casually walked
away as if there were no demons in his head.
Detritus wasn't coming to the door so Police Corruptible Brooks had a chat to an old
friend and went home.
The Umpire would like to note that perhaps the third sentence of the above report indicates where Police Corruptible Brooks is going wrong.
Sadly, Diogenes is no longer. An unfortunate sequence of supervisions had rendered her incompetent, but the very eve she had decided to redeem herself, she was mauled viciously to death by a rabid attack pig, a malicious monstrosity owned by none other than the venerable Police Corruptible Brooks. Luckily, the death was short and relatively painless.
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