The Assassins' Guild - Week 5 News
The Assassins' Guild - Week 5 NewsMerciless Midnight Murder
The plan had been formed in advance. The target had been located. Befriended (albeit far before he became a target).
The feeding room was to be the place of his last stand.
The night was dark, and full of terrors (my blaster and I). A meeting had been planned with some associates, which The Shadow Surfer had been part of, near his homestead.
The event was almost not to happen. A last minute cancellation. A disappearance into the ether. The meeting went ahead regardless, but not without a twinge of disappointment.
And then, he returned. A long conversation ensued. He was made to believe I was not a threat.
A false exit followed.
And a return.
His head was turned.
So I made his back my target.
The deed was done, but the friendship was not lost. Chocolate was received. Cake was consumed. It was good.
After a long and hard day of hunting incompetents, I was tired. Too tired to be on my guard.
I had become lax in my paranoia, having had weeks without anything resembling an attempt on my life.
As I chatted easily with a fellow assassin in the kitchen, I had no idea he would so soon become my killer. He made an excuse - 'I'm just going to the toilet' - a bluff that should have been noted, a movement that should have been watched. Alas, it was not so, and I turned my back as he walked from the room.
I suddenly heard the bang of the Gray Corp Short Range Cartridge firing, and felt the cold, metallic stab of the bullet as it drilled into my back. I turned in shock, to the one I thought was my friend, as I collapsed to the floor - the final realization of a dying man, that he had been betrayed by his friend, even as he had betrayed his own.
In my last moments, I reflected on the short assassin life I have lived. The thrills, the kills, and the significant frustrations, churned in a continual ebbing flow of wonderful life.
But, my fellow assassins, potential targets, betrayed allies, this is where I leave you. As swiftly as it appeared, my life as an assassin here fades,
into the shadows...
Epilogue:
Somewhere in a nearby Gray Corp police workforce reanimation unit, a body was dumped into a vat of thick, white acid, and a control panel began to flash:
[0.01347] Detecting gene patterns
[0.01589] Calculating modifiers
[0.02003] Initiating automaton reanimation...
Interviewer: Describe a time when you used your initiative during a stressful workplace situation.
Me: During my internship with Royal Mail, after a heated [REDACTED] of impromptu [CENSORED][REDACTED], my supervisor attacked me with a gun without warning. I had to take the initiative, sourcing a gun at short notice, and using my interpersonal skills to transfer a bullet from my pocket to my supervisor's heart. Considerable attention to detail was required to ensure that the bullet struck at exactly the correct angle. My supervisor's abrupt forward charge meant that this entire exercise was carried out under intense time pressure.
Still I am being frustrated in my attempts. This week I was instructed to visit a new location; my attempts to do so have brought up some curious memories.
I first visited the building on Thursday evening. As I began to walk round the building for the first time, I had a sudden feeling that I had been there before – like déjà vu, but much stronger than usual. Vague impressions of struggles and defeats came to mind. Perhaps I have been here before? Perhaps something terrible once happened here? I do not know, for I have only a few hazy memories from my time before the maze. But clearly this place meant something to me.
I circled the building looking for a way in, and found what looked like a doorway. It was locked shut, however, and although I waited all evening, I saw no one enter or leave through it. Eventually I had to give up and leave.
On Friday evening I returned. As I neared, I again had that same feeling of déjà vu, but this time it was accompanied by visions of an old lady in an overly cosy room, and I expected at any moment to imagine a cat strolling in through the half–open doorway. This vision was confusing, as the place I was visiting was not an old nursing home or retirement village, but a place of learning, a place where youths came to study and socialise together.
The vision passed, and soon I found myself in the same predicament as before. No matter how hard I searched, there appeared to be only one plausible way into the building – through the locked door that never opened. After waiting for a while in the cold, I decided my efforts that evening were futile, and left.
I have twice revisited the building since then, but at different times of day, in the hope that my earlier failures were merely the result of failing to match the daily rhythms of whoever may live inside. But although I saw a great many people passing by, not one of them emerged from or saw fit to enter this mysterious building.
What is this place? Why did WICKED choose to send me here, of all places in the city? What do these half–seen memories mean? Did WICKED know about those? And what is this cure that we once heard so much about, but which is now becoming just another rapidly receding memory?
Perhaps, once this is all over, I shall get myself a house, like the one I remembered, and get some cats to live with. At least with cats you know when they're being manipulative, and you know what they're motives are.
Hmm, that would be nice, wouldn't it.
I think I might be losing my sanity. If you don't here from me again, then look for the cats. Or don't. I don't even know what's happening anymore. I'm not even sure I ever did. Do we ever understand? Or do we just delude ourselves into thinking we do. I don't know. I'm not sure I know anything now.
–Teresa
"The individual who was today removed from our society may at least serve as a good example in this respect. They did not falter in their routine, nor hide away behind locked doors; they must have known, as all Good Citizens know, that the Force of the Law is never wrong. Following the revocation of their Good Citizen status, their demise was just and inevitable; to attempt to delay it, through fight or through flight, would have been nothing more than a waste of our State's resources and our Police Units' time. However, they followed their routine accordingly, and gave up their life, as is right and just, to the judgement of the State."
Caules could barely believe what he was hearing. People should just not react if someone starts firing on them, and die without question? How could someone just accept that the world is better off without them, how could a life be so worthless?
He picked up his phone and dialled Fiore's number.
"Caules, what's the matter?" she asked.
"The announcement from the Geiger Countess, it's horrifying"
"I know. I'm sorry to have made you part of something so awful. It just reinforces the need for us to succeed. With that in mind, I've got some news for you"
"Go on"
"Well..." she began hesitantly, unsure of what her brother's reaction was going to be. "Our family have been able to pull some strings, and set you up with one of Gray's most trusted allies for your next attempt. It's The Geiger Countess"
Caules gasped.
"I know it sounds awful", Fiore continued, "but success here will be just what you need to be noticed. I know it will be hard to work with her, but I know you can do it."
"You're right", he replied. "This is just what we need."
"Just remember", she added hastily. "Cast your death–incineration spell before you go. Don't let her use you body should you die!"
"I won't" Caules said, smiling at his sister's genuine concern. "And I won't die either, I promise". He hung up and prepared himself. Noticing a bounty on the newspaper on his desk, he donned a wig, knowing that this was likely to gain the favour of The Geiger Countess, who had set this bounty in the first place.
Caules and The Geiger Countess met up as planned, and quickly proceeded to the residence of the man they had agreed to kill. She made conversation with him, and Caules was surprised at how he was able to hold a conversation with one whose existence he so despised. She almost seemed like she had been a pleasant person once, before whatever turned her to her current line of work changed that. He knew he couldn't voice any objection to the state, so kept this inside. They arrived at their victim's residence, and The Geiger Countess knocked. There was no response. Desperate to show that he was able to kill, Caules suggested that they try another incompetent, Johnny Letterbomb, who had lost his "Good Citizen" status a good while ago, so would hopefully be an easy target. She agreed and they made their way to his residence.
When they arrive, they could both see how this man had managed to survive for so long. He lived in a very secure building. "That was smart", Caules thought. "I must remind Fiore to ensure that our home's security cannot be easily compromised should anything happen to me". Caules and The Geiger Countess waited close to the entrance to this court for a few minutes, before a passer by entered and they followed. They quickly made their way to Johnny Letterbomb's residence, and positioned themselves. The Geiger Countess would knock on the door and persuade Johnny Letterbomb to open, at which point Caules would step out from beside the doorway and claim the kill. Caules gulped. His first kill had been an easy one, a defenceless target pointed out to him by a friendly bear, this victim would know there was someone there. Would he kill The Geiger Countess, or Caules, or just not answer? There were too many options, but no time for him to dwell on this, as The Geiger Countess had just knocked on the door.
Johnny Letterbomb took no persuasion to open the door, and as planned, while he was fiddling with change, Caules emerged from the side, and a laser from his hand pierced Johnny Letterbomb, killing him. At this point The Geiger Countess inspected the body. "This one is a prime candidate for the twitch programme as well", she told Caules, impressed. "I shall arrange for a team to recover it and begin the process". Caules clenched his fist behind him, angered by the fate he had just given this good–natured man, but quickly composed himself before The Geiger Countess could notice. "It was a pleasure working with you", he told her.
"Likewise" she replied as they left the building.
Caules returned home and called Fiore. "I did it, I got a kill with her".
"That's wonderful news!" she said, delighted. "But you seem upset".
"The man's body is being used for the twitch program. I've done something terrible", he said, his voice shaking.
"Perhaps", Fiore replied solemnly, "but what you did was necessary for us to bring down Gray, and you had no way of knowing that this fate awaited the man you were killing. Please, try not to let it get to you."
"Thanks", he replied, "I will. I'll call again soon. Take care of yourself".
"I will. See you soon", Fiore replied and hung up the phone.
Caules sank into his chair and cuddled the cushion. He knew Fiore was right, but that hadn't quite shaken the guilt he felt. He hoped it would subside soon, as he knew that he would soon be required to kill again.
We would like to point out to all Citizens that the Force of the Law is here at your disposal. If any Concerned Citizen wishes to go about making our State a better and more productive place, but does not wish to do so alone, then we are here to assist you. Our society is strongest when its members work together.
A Concerned Citizen who was aware of this fact had recently requested assistance in such an endeavour; understandably, they had concerns about facing some of the more dangerous elements of our society alone. As Chief Enforcer of the Law, I was more than happy to assist in this manner; to protect the Citizens of our State, in whatever manner the situation may require, is my sacred honour and my solemn vow. While damage to a Police Unit is far from desirable – and may have negative consequences for those involved in bringing a Unit into harm's way – it is far preferable for us to lose an easily–replaceable Unit than a Good Citizen.
I had already called at the residence of the first individual we sought, and was able to navigate there with little difficulty, but yet again they did not appear to be in their room. Once more, I must remind all Citizens of the importance of keeping to the mandated schedules, the better for us to survey the circulation of Citizens through our society, and to predict any possible threats in advance.
We then proceeded to another location I had already surveyed. My previous patrol in the area had been ultimately inconclusive, but it had allowed me to observe the security measures in place, and to bypass them with ease. Again, it seems we must remind all Citizens: barring entry to Police Units is ineffective and wastes both time and resources. Good Citizens have nothing to fear from the Force of the Law; attempts made to bar entry reflect very poorly upon all residents. Nonetheless, in spite of their poor productivity record and loss of Good Citizen status, the individual we sought proved to be a well–behaved, cooperative, law–abiding member of society. Upon a request for aid from an Enforcer of the Law, they opened their door immediately and without question, thus streamlining the process of their removal from our society. In death, if not in life, they set a commendable example. Preliminary examination suggested possible candidacy for the Twitch programme.
Once more, I would like to reiterate: the Force of the Law serves our Citizens. If you wish to join us in our duty of protecting the State, then we are here to assist; I would be more than happy to accompany any Concerned Citizen in their endeavours, should they request it.
We would like to remind all Citizens that we, the Force of the Law, are here for your protection. We remove from society those dangerous individuals who would destabilise the whole, and we ensure that our bounteous State runs smoothly and efficiently. Those individuals who break the rules – or who do not meet their contribution targets towards the ever–forward motion of our society – must be removed, for the sake of all our futures. We hope that you understand. We hope that you bear this in mind. We hope that you remain our Good Citizens.
....................................................................................................
The popo finally got me. I'd been hunkered down in my room expecting the worst for a while now, but that kind of solitude does things to a man. Terrible things. Exhausted (bored), tired (more true) and hungry (very true), I felt like I was starting to lose my mind (much less true). Then, one day I get a knock on the door. In a moment of oblivion I expect it to be a friendly face and go to let them in. Standing outside were the chief of police and a wily assassin. The blue–haired hitman nailed me straight through the heart, and that was that. No apologies. No questions asked. (They were lovely – I got a cookie and everything!) So I guess this is me, signing off from assassinations.
Ah well, if you can't beat em, join em!
Johnny Letterbomb
Consulting my information network, I found out when Alexander Homerton would next have lectures. I did not expect him to remain on the incompetence list so was surprised when I checked it to find he remained there this morning.
I made my way to his lecture building, and met up with my contact, who allowed me into a communal area where I could continue my information consulting with another of my network. Roddy could have been in this room, I was told, but did not see him. As it became almost time for the next lecture to start, I made my way to the main entrance to the room. My contact joined me a few moments later and we discussed if he would be coming.
Then, I saw him. He was taller than I was expecting but it was definitely him. I ran to him and dealt a fatal blow to the back of the head before he could enter the lecture theatre.
I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory. Is this where it gets me, on my feet, just outside a Computer Design lecture? (Yes)
If you enjoyed my musical-theatre themed reports, you should come and see American Idiot at [REDACTED](it's on 16th-18th November, tickets available online)!
The Shadow Surfer and I were leaving the re-education centre for new members of the Twitch police force when we were brutally stabbed by a mysterious assassin whom we had no knowledge of. We await our reassembly in order to enact our revenge.
Yeah, so they were 2 guys in [REDACTED] who I overheard talking about going to kill someone so I stabbed them on the assumption they were bearing, which they were, but they also turned out to be policemen.
I'm sure they'll report it themselves but yeah, sorry. It was an accident, kind of.
At 1300 hours this morning a message was broadcast across all open frequencies. It is unknown to whom this message was directed, but judging by its content, whoever it is should be on their guard. GrayComm Security officers have been dispatched to try and find the source of this disturbance, but as yet have been unsuccessful....
**YOU MAY THAT YOU ARE CLEVER. YOU MIGHT THINK THAT BY SCRAMBLING MAPPING DATA TO HIDE THE LOCATION OF YOUR RESIDENCE YOU WILL BE SAFE. WELL TODAY YOU GOT LUCKY.**
**TIME WAS ON YOUR SIDE THIS TIME. THE STEALTH CIRCUITRY ON YOUR STRONGHOLD PROVED MORE INTRICATE THAN I GAVE YOU CREDIT FOR. CONGRATULATIONS TO YOU; YOU HAVE SUCCESSFULLY EARNED MY IRE. YOU SHALL SEE ME SOON, AND THEN NEVER AGAIN**
At 21.00 on Monday, an attempt was made on me in my room. My roommate stabbed him in the arm, before I shot him in the chest as he retreated to the corridor, however this was disputed as he did not feel the shot.
The would–be assassin knocked at my door asking for my not–assassin roommate. Said roommate then proceeded to let him in, at which point a gunfight ensued. My assassin roommate stabbed him in the arm during the exchange of a few dodged shots, before he retreated to the corridor (while my non–assassin roommate watched on with excitement). After a short while of me getting my whits together, while my enemy stood in the doorway – gun raised, I jumped out from behind the door, firing one shot into his chest (as seen by my non–assassin roommate). At this point my targeter fled down the stairway before calling discussion phase.
In the discussion phase, he mentioned that he did not feel the shot to his chest (likely due to wearing a thick jacket), but we let him leave with his life.
Trexer
[Umpire's note: Many many things about this event are confused. Firstly, it was sent in days late. Secondly, if there is any ever question about who has been hit where, call a discussion phase. Now, one was not called. Further complicating this was that I missed a single update due to the social and this meant that the competency which might have been given for this wasn't given in good time and lead to me having to annul another kill (*sigh*). Anyway, due to the lack of conclusion reached at the time, there is no way I'm going to retroactively kill somebody for something that happened 6 days ago, so this assassin (I've since figured out who) lives. – CG]
REPORT-2319C
GrayComm Security Team
Subject: SOURCE OF ANOMALOUS BROADCAST
FAO: CORNELIUS GRAY
The following was recorded from within the MOVO-SPORESGAURD POL FACILITY (registered to Arcoria Ltd, a subsidiary puppet of GrayCorp) before our squad was forced to disband following the activation of an automated defence system.
Due to the nature of this recording, GrayComm reccommend that additional protective measures be made for The Spanish Inquisition and Burt Reynold's Sentient Pancakes should this individual make good on his promises.
Transcript of Recording:
'...ou think that you can escape inevitable order of death by being elsewhere!? You think you will live by surviving... No, no... You think you will survive by living disordered existences!? You think that Chaos is the way to success!?
You who have evaded my forces and entered my sights. Spaniard Inquiry!... The Spanish Acquisition!... The Spanish Inquisition, Burt Reynold's Sentient Pancakes, Miguel Jaksoni. You shall bow before Prof-
Hang... STITCHES, GET THAT OUT OF YOUR MOUTH NOW! THAT IS NOT FOR GENETIC ABOMINATIONS TO EAT. Bad S.T.A.B.. Ugh, where was I... ah yes.
You shall bow before Professor Incompetent.
I am the Order in the Chaos. I AM THE SOLDIER OF REGULARITY. I AM-
*at this point the recording is drowned out by the sounds of sirens and gunfire*'
On the 13th of November Enforcer Agent Pseudonymous Bosch and an Accomplice visited the room of the incompetent Stacey at 6:00pm in an attempt to exact justice for his crimes. Despite a convincing deception they were foiled by Stacey's sophisticated evasion technique of not being in. Fear not gentle customer-citizens. Justice will be served.
The Gray Corporation
Delivering Justice to The People
I ran as fast as I could, it looked comical from a distance because of my waddling gait. On closer inspection, people could see the cause of my funny running - my hands hanging uselessly by my sides…
That evening I had truly lived up to my name - at least the first part of it anyway. I had set out to confirm my worth to the Gray Corp police and rid the city of another Inco, but the evening did not go according to plan.
I had found my way to his living quarters and was faced with a locked door and three names above it. I chose the most unfamiliar name and called for it. Eventually the gentleman came out to see me, we had a quick chat and he was nice enough to let me into the room. So far so good. The room was much bigger than I expected and my aim turned out to be lousy. I shot at [ASSASSIN 1] and missed, after which [ASSASSIN 2], who cleverly positioned themselves behind another door, sliced open my gun arm with a knife. I switched the gun to my good arm, only to have it shot to pieces with an expert shot from [ASSASSIN 1]. At this point I realised that I was doomed and ran like hell, with my arms comically dangling by my sides.
The Contribution Progress Bulletin, direct from the GrayCorp Executive Senate, was just a few hours young. One more day, many more contribution targets unfulfilled.
Noob–Noob sighed at first upon reading it. He had hoped he wouldn't have to execute The Protocol on Gorgeous Git, but that day had nonetheless arrived. How disappointing, he later thought, that it was one from his own department who would meet their deserved end.
It was the Geiger Countess who had called upon Noob–Noob to assist in this HOSeR (Human and Other Sentient Resources) matter, and as is usual for her, a carefully–architected sting operation was set up. Ultimately, though, Noob–Noob preferred the kamikaze approach and timed his presence at an inter–chamber airlock with nothing but a pen–knife in hand.
From experience, this approach would only work 42% of the time –– Noob–Noob had discovered this through many past consciousnesses in many now–mutilated Twitch bodies. Thankfully, though, not 30 seconds had he spent in waiting before the airlock hissed open and his target appeared, unaware of the situation. As he approached to strike, Gorgeous Git's expression was a mix of surprise and fear. GrayCorp's Twitch Program coders hadn't quite managed to suppress guilt from his cyber–mental mapping, and the Cognitive Module in his latest Twitch body was heavily hyperconnected, so Noob–Noob preferred to think that her expression meant 'acceptance of impending doom' –– with any luck, this assumption would keep at bay the habitual nightmares and flashbacks that had manifested themselves since he started occupying this particular Twitch.
The first blow sliced open lengthways the inside of the victim's left arm, which was held up in futile defence. At this point she lowered her right arm, reaching for the ultrasharp bullets in her pocket, but this eliminated her guard, and a riposte from Noob–Noob landed squarely in the centre of her torso to seal the deal. The onlookers, apparently her lab colleagues, were quite unfazed. Noob–Noob took the opportunity to load up and issue the pre–recorded "GC–CONTRIB–0001–AU: Gentle Reminder of the Contribution Targets (Approved Version for Auditory Use)", and secondly "GC–CONTRIB–0002–AU: Reactionary Protocol for the Force of the Law in the Event of Non–Satisfaction of Contribution Targets (Approved Public Version for Auditory Use)".
He found a final death note on Gorgeous Git's person. "Don't turn me into one of those horrible Twitch things," it said. Noob–Noob's programming was tuned to the Strict but Compassionate Profile, so he just radioed for a Caretaker Unit before departing the scene.
I lived and loved and lost my life. *sobs* So long suckers!
Totem Pole walked purposefully through the rain. He ran mentally through the details of his ambush: the place, the face, the name. He double checked his weapons and recalled his escape plans. He was relieved that he managed to do all of this without setting off a flashback. He dared glance into the dark corner of his mind, "...look at what they..." – he recoiled before it was too late. The work of a prestigious surgeon, coupled with an exotic assortment of drugs was keeping the events of that night at bay.
Totem Pole wanted to continue setting an example of an exemplary citizen, but he could not afford a repeat of the events that nearly eviscerated his mind. To this end he had enrolled in the Gray Corporation's official training program. He had completed the first phase and was now facing his first test. He was given a name, a face and a place.
As per the manuals, he arrived with enough time to stake out the entrance and determine the most likely route of his target. He waited, attempting to look as inconspicuous as possible. Faces drifted by, but none of them matched the image in his mind, until finally he glimpsed a hover–cycle rider with familiar features. The darkness and helmet made it hard to be sure of the match. Totem Pole tensed up and waited for the traveller to dismount and approach. As the target walked up the steps Totem Pole turned toward him, noticing the rider's hands in his pockets only too late. He knew. The two locked eyes. He knew. Totem Pole unsheathed his secret knife and lunged for his target's chest, but his opponent was smarter because he had brought a gun to a knife fight. In his adrenaline induced slow motion experience, Totem Pole saw the opponent draw a one–shot pistol – death gleaming in the barrel. Totem Pole's knife struck his target. He didn't feel any pain himself though. Was he already dead?
It took a few seconds for him to realise that the gun had misfired. Bad luck had undermined the opponent who had outsmarted him. Consumed by thoughts of a random universe, he turned away from the lifeless body.
Balls.
Winnie the Pooh was hungry again.
(Well, bears are almost always hungry, so this is not very surprising.)
So he decided to return to that part of the woods where he had recently found some strange-tasting honey.
As he arrived, he thought he heard some bees, and indeed he soon thought he saw a beehive passing by.
So Pooh turned to follow it.
He followed it out of the woods and into a strange little house nearby that seemed to be full food.
"I suppose that's an appropriate place for honey to go," Pooh thought to himself.
He walked up to the beehive and struck it with Christoper Robin's walking stick (which Pooh still hadn't remembered to return).
It wasn't a beehive.
There were lots of funny looking people around Pooh, and they all seemed to be looking funnily at him, and at the thing that wasn't a beehive. (It was by now oozing some strange red fluid - as far as Pooh knew honey was never red.)
So Pooh fled again.
Pooh reflected on the friends he once had, but now hadn't seen in a very long time. He missed those friends. Everyone he met now seemed to be either scared or angry, and often both scared and angry at him. He wondered how such a silly, friendly little bear such as himself could cause so much distress among everyone he met.
Winnie the Pooh returned to his old friend Christopher Robin's house. He didn't expect to see Christopher Robin there, but at least it was a warm, familiar place that wasn't his home. He clambered up the stairs to Christopher Robin's room (he never used to like going up it with Christopher Robin, who kept bumping his head against the stairs, but now he almost missed that regular experience).
Pooh sat down.
Then he sat some more.
Indeed, he still sitting there right now, hoping against all reason that one of his friends will come and find him there.
He is a lonely bear indeed.
On the 15/11/17 at approximately 1pm I was ambushed after a lecture by 2 police droids I had previously dismantled. We engaged in a long stand off, during which they called for and received aid, before a shoot out occurred during which I was able to shoot the 3rd police droid. As all 3 were bearing at the time this was a licit kill.
Made a new accomplice in an attempt to dispose of Alexander (James Quentin) Duggan. In true assassin's paranoia, I ignored the 'out' sign on the board and ascended to their room, only to discover that they were in fact out. Unable to wait there due to the suspicious glances from maintenance, I left.
Disheartened, I attempted to dispose of Trexer and The Fundamental Group on my way home, only to discover that they were also out. They did not return, though I waited for several minutes.
Disheartened and weak from my travels, I returned home.
I had transformed into a college cat today and wandered around the grounds of a somewhat far college. This college had had an incompetent assassin for a while now, and I figured he would be an easy target. I had finally managed to find a picture of him online which also listed his subject, but sadly that information was not something I could easily use.
I started my patrol around midday, and couldn't find him, so I made my way to the college library and did some work there. I was surprisingly productive, maybe I'll come back here. I transformed back into a cat and wandered the college a few times, and I noticed his curtains were now open, but still no sign of him.
As always seems to be the case, as I was on my way to leave, that's when he passed me. I let him walk a bit ahead and turned round to try and catch him. But alas, he was a very quick walked and soon made it to what could potentially be interpreted as a study area. So I decided to extend my stay here. Transforming into a less suspicious human, I entered the room, grabbed a book, and sat myself close to him (this was merely coincidental as this seat happened to be the last one with a table by it, and was also ideally placed for him not to quite be able to see me).
Then, he uttered the words "I'm pretty sure I'm going to win this Assassins' Guild thing" and he proceeded to state that he had not been attempted on despite being incompetent since the list went up, so clearly he was never going to and would win by default. A wry smile spread over my lips, how ironic that the one who would kill him was in the same room as him and he had no idea.
Soon he left, and I hurriedly exited through a different door. I forgot how quickly he walked, and had to run to catch up. He had exited the building but I had almost caught him. Not wishing to take chances, I ran to him, a sword drawn. He just about had time to turn his head to see me before it pierced his back and he fell to the ground.
"How ironic it is that you had just claimed to be the winner of this game", I said to him, as he struggled to utter words, blood flowing out onto the pavement much to the horror of his friend who had been walking just ahead. "I admire your dedication to pacifism, but I'm afraid it's not much use in a world such as this. What a shame it is that you learned this lesson all too late. Perhaps we shall meet again in another life, but until then, I hope the remainder of your death does not cause you much distress".
I turned my back on him at this point, and made to exit. I knew his death would not be painless, or comfortable. In all likelihood his body was twitching on the floor, slowly bleeding out as his friend desperately tried and failed to save him as he did not know what to do. This was the harsh reality of the world now, for better or worse. I reclaimed my bag from the previous room, and transformed again, praying that I could pass through the streets unrecognised, and that none would notice the blood on my hands.
Edward Bear had been sitting alone in Christopher Robin's room or a very long time when a strange man knocked on the door and entered.
"I hear you're in a spot of bother," the strange man said.
He kept glancing around nervously, as though afraid of something Pooh couldn't see.
"Well, I suppose, yes I am," said Pooh.
"All my friends have left me, and now everyone seems to be afraid of me."
"We heard about that," said the strange man. "And we can help you."
"How?"
"Well, erm... I'm not allowed to go into any details. Officially I don't even know anything myself... I mean, I definitely don't know anything myself, erm..."
"Erm...?" Pooh echoed
"It's simple. All you have to do is say the word, and we'll have someone help you out of your predicament."
"What is the word?"
"I didn't mean... oh, never mind. The word is 'yes'."
"Hmm," Pooh thought to himself. He didn't understand what was going on any more, but he supposed that's what came of having very little brains.
"Yes, I suppose-"
"Thank you, I'll be off now," the stranger interrupted, turning to sprint out of the doorway.
"I don't suppose you'll hear from-"
BANG!
Pooh sat in silence. He missed his old life, but he could no longer remember when things had started changing. He wished he could see his old friends again - Piglet, Eeyore, Rabbit, Owl, Kanga, Roo and Tigger. And, of course, the oldest friend of all Christopher Robin.
Where were they?
What was happening?
Pooh stomach grumbled loudly, but he didn't even notice. He just continued sitting silently, waiting for this nightmare to end.
Today, I, Reginald 2.0, avenged the kill of Cornelius Gray by slaughtering Cuddly Attack Bear with a single slug round fired into her from behind. The hit was completed successfully, with the reanimated corpse of The Shadow Surfer firing another round into her corpse shortly after for good measure. Let this be a warning to you all, an attack on Mr Gray is an attack on society itself, those who fight society will surely perish.
[Umpire's Note: Cuddly Attack Bear had redeemed by killing the Umpire and so the kill is annulled. – Snow]
I awoke this morning the sound of incessant whispering, which stopped almost immediately. A note was pushed into my hand, and then the door slammed shut and a car outside sped away.
In the silence that followed I read the note:
URGENT: YOU MUST SEEK OUT AND ELIMINATE A TARGET AS SOON AS POSSIBLE. FAILURE TO COMPLY WILL LIKELY LEAD TO YOUR OWN ELIMINATION. YOU HAVE TWO DAYS, BUT WE MAY REVISE THIS AT ANY TIME. SO HURRY. YOU WOULDN'T WANT US TO CATCH YOU SUBVERTING OUR CAUSE. THE CLOCK IS TICKING.
P.S: YOU HAVE ALREADY RECEIVED A LIST OF ACCEPTABLE TARGETS. CHOOSE WISELY, BUT CHOOSE FAST.
P.P.S: GOOD LUCK
It was completely anonymous, but at he same time it was clearly a note from WICKED. They must have had a very good reason for giving me such an urgent mission (god, I'm starting to sound like them). So I got dressed and set out to complete their task.
It was a morning much like any other morning, but as I crossed the city I felt more alert and aware of my surrounds than usual. Every noise or movement was a possible threat - who knew when they might go back on their word and launch an attack. The constant paranoia was exhausting, and by the time I reached my destination I barely had the energy to continue. But continue I must.
The building I was stood outside was one I had visited before. The plan of attack was simple - go to the upper levels to gain a positional advantage, and then wait. I passed the upper entrance to the target's staircase, and noted that it was open. That could be useful.
Suddenly the target appeared at the end of the long courtyard, her distinctive blond hair being even easier to spot from this height. I watched her walk towards her staircase, to be sure of her identity, then as she passed through the lower door I began walking towards the upper entrance.
As I reached the open upper door, I drew out a gun and shot her. She was at that moment just opening her private quarters, and she continued inside and shut the door.
I called her name, and heard her reply "No, I think I'm okay ... oh, no, I'm dead."
And with those (rather underwhelming) final words, came the sound of her body falling to the floor, slumped against the inside of the door.
I turned to go.
For now I am still alive. For now, I hope that WICKED will leave me alone. But I do not hope too hard, for I know the ways of WICKED, and I know that they will not rest until their work is done. And surely it cannot yet be done - how could this killing be the culmination of their work.
So I must rest. I must eat, and walk, and observe. And I must try to learn.
And hopefully one day I'll know WICKED. Hopefully I'll learn what WICKED are doing. Hopefully I'll understand why WICKED is good.
Hopefully they'll leave me with a life worth living.
I'd just like to report death has finally arrived. I knew my days were numbered.
I was shot in the back by a watergun as I was entering my room in college.
Over and out,
Misty Patricia
The Stork Brigade were on an intelligence-gathering mission near [REDACTED] when we heard a rumour that the juvey-cops were planning to ambush us outside our overnight-accommodation. This would have been highly inconvenient as we did not yet want the local residents to know that we were around. (Yeah, publicity is good, but as our last outing showed you can have too much of a good thing.)
Fortunately, we needed to gather some supplies in the morning anyway, so we just moved the resupply mission to 12:15am in the morning. Which, naturally, required a 20 minute journey out-of-town to find an open store. Normally this would be a lot off hassle, but since we were trying to avoid a possible ambush, the extra time needed to visit this store was not an issue. (The biting cold, however, was, given our lack of warm coats.)
We eventually returned to our lodgings at 12:50am, and encountered the entire population of our building standing outside the front entrance. Our initial fear was that the cops had emptied the building in their search for us; it turned out however that the cops had nothing to do with it, and we had merely happened upon a routine (well, maybe that's not the right word) fire alarm. So we stood outside with the others for another 15 minutes, doing our best to blend into the crowd, until we were eventually allowed back into our building. (Sure, I could have just gone in anyway - it obviously wasn't burning down - but even I know that sometimes it's best just to blend in and let everyone see you as an innocent, harmless member of society.)
We are now once again ready for our next mission. We have arms. We have food. We have intelligence. And we are coming.
I had found out the subject of one of the incompetent assassins, and they were supposed to have a lecture today. Oversleeping the chance to catch them beforehand, I had to make do with afterwards. I arrived at the lecture theatre before the lecture ended and watched as everyone left a lot more slowly and les huddled than I expected. Despite this, I couldn't see him anywhere.
Wondering if I had just missed him, I hurried to his accommodation and easily gained access. I'd been here before, but not to this room, and sadly the building was a [REDACTED] maze. I wandered around it for some time before realising I would not find this person's room, and seeing as I hadn't bumped into them in the corridor yet, I figured that wasn't going to happen either, so I returned home.
Having failed in my last attempt, I returned to the same building to try and take out someone else. Regrettably, I seemed to arrive when everyone had just left. Believing there to be another lecture on the course starting soon, I scoured the communal areas in search of incos, but there were none to be found. I then waited by the entrance to the next lecture, and my victim did not show up.
Yesterday I paid a visit to my good friends at [REDACTED] College, The Gentleman and Furston LeDolier.
Mysteriously, although the room of Furston LeDolier was unlocked [At this stage in the game?! -CG], he was nowhere to be seen. Had he been outside of college as I was informed by a passer-by (who was COMPLETELY unaware I was an assassin), this was very unsafe on Furston LeDolier's part in such a cold, cutthroat world.
The Gentleman was next. An incompetent MA? How confusing, although it seems he can afford to be incompetent, as his building was locked.
The night was warm and lit by a sun bleeding red light when Pseudonymous Bosch and his companions proceeded along the broadway to Magdalene college. Surely our targets would soon be leaking a more viscous form of the light fantastic.
Alas it was not to be.
Upon locating the habitation of Furston LeDolier Falcon Jones and I waited while our assassin crept upstairs. Yet despite the fool leaving his door wide open, no man was a home. As Stacey crept back down the stairs, Falcon Jones and I saw a man with a similar appearance to Stacey's target emerge from another door, glance at us and pace swiftly round a corner. Upon being reunited with our ally we decided the bird had flown the cage and resolved to try another mark. As we crossed through the college a chance encounter with a friend of the target confirmed he had, in fact, escaped death by the narrowest of margins, for he was the man we saw walking away. Our attempt on The Gentleman ended at his front door which was locked fast with GrayCorp autosecure tech.
Ah well, another day, another target. Justice will be served.
GrayCorp, delivering justice, to you
Hi, I stopped off at [REDACTED COLLEGE] today to try to eliminate my targets, or at least gain some useful information.Despite failing to eliminate either of my targets this time, I have managed to develop a cunning plan, based on the geography of this college, which will likely see them quickly ended. Updates coming soon.
Earlier today I though I discovered the man who had my fish. Given that I rather wanted it back, I went to the place where I believed that he would be dining and waited for him.
A man came up to me, looking remarkably like the man who had stolen my fish. I asked him if he had my fish. He said no.
This made me very angry.
It was only later, picking through the bloodstained remains when I realised the horrifying truth. He didn't have my fish, and he never did. I am getting very frustrated now.
What do you call traumatised killer Totem Pole, elusive plotter Magdala Buckley, magical Chelsea and tragically underdeveloped Mop? The Parchment Eaters, apparently.
Citizens, beware. Today we failed to infiltrate an inco's quarters despite aid from DoodleBobBuffPants, but soon many people across the galaxy will not be so lucky.
Joined Mop and Totem Pole to hunt down some incos. We went to Trexer's room, he was dispatched by Totem Pole (Trexer was bearing at the time).
We then attempted [An inco]; he was not in his room. My accomplice let us into [Another inco]'s corridor and we attempted to get her to open her door. Unfortunately, she was too paranoid to open the door.
Magdala Buckley
I would like to report a kill on an inco, Trexer, I went hunting with Mop and Magdala Buckley. We went to his room, he was out as we were about to leave, he and [A non inco] appeared at bottom of stairs. A quick firefight followed and I shot Trexer dead.
[Umpire's note: As mentioned in this report, Trexer failed to report a kill yet we agreed to provide competency. They were still on the inco list for some time after (we have lives too). This led to a group targeting and killing them. It was agreed that they would never have been there if Trexer had not been on the inco list and so the kill was annulled - Snow]
I would like to report a kill on an inco, Trillian, I went hunting with Mop and we saw her walking across her corridor, and I shot her in the back.
Attempt 1:
Arrived at St Catherine's with Kriemhild Gretchen and Hazie. Knocked on door and asked for milk. Alexander (James Quentin) Duggan refused to open the door and said something along the lines of: "I'm not opening the door. Go take my milk from the fridge. It's the blue one." Knowing she was very paranoid, we left to go [some] College.
Attempt 2:
Arrived at [a place] and I coincidentally saw a friend outside. Knowing she was from the college, I asked if she could let me in, but she said she didn't have access to the Hostel and was actually waiting for her friend to let her in as they were planning to have dinner. Her friend eventually came down and opened the door, letting us in. We asked her if she know who Friedrich Van Caspar was and she said he might be in his room or some common room. As his room was some long way up, she took us to the common room first and there appeared to be some game night thing going on with a lot of people. The girl then asked the crowd if Friedrich Van Caspar was around and one of his friends said he was out and left a while ago. We left to go to the [place the umpire is a little too familiar with by now].
Attempt 3:
Arrived at [umpire friendly building] to get The Spanish Inquisition. I knocked on his door and he responded, asking who it was. I told him I had the bike lights of a girl down the hall, he seemed hesitant but was paranoid enough to apologise: "I'm really sorry but I can't open the door right now. You're going to have to ask someone else, I have work to do." We all then left.
I made three attempts today with Hazie and Queenslayer. We went to the accommodation of The Spanish Inquisition, Friedrich Van Caspar and Alexander (James Quentin) Duggan. The Spanish Inquisition and Alexander (James Quentin) Duggan refused to open their doors, and we made it into [A place] but learned from some people at a party there that Friedrich Van Caspar'd recently left the building with an acquaintance, so no luck.
Kriemhild Gretchen, Queenslayer and I made a few unsuccessful attempts tonight from around 9pm to 10.30pm.
We first went to Alexander (James Quentin) Duggan's room and knocked on her door asking for milk but she didn't open we waited around for a bit longer then left. We then went to Friedrich Van Caspar's room but he was not in and after asking around we found out he left with a friend so there was no point in waiting any longer. We finally went to [not the umpire's college] to visit The Spanish Inquisition. We knocked on his door and made up an excuse but he just wouldn't open his door so we left after hanging a bit in the corridor.
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