"UGH. I KNEW IT WAS POINTLESS TO TRY TO HELP OUT POOR PEOPLE. THIS IS THE THANKS I GET FOR STAYING UP ALL NIGHT WATCHING SOME GROSS UNWEALTHY PIG'S ROOM?!" - Princess
Played by: Bryce Alignment: Town Role: The Watcher Death: Killed on Night 9
Death
+
Princess sat looking out the large window by the upper floor stair landing. It was still partially shattered from Harvey's fall, which led to a constant rush of wind and rain in her face, but Princess didn't seem to mind. She curled up in her pink, cashmere blanket tightly and looked out across the island.
In the distance, whenever a lightning bolt would inevitably strike, she could just make out the silhouette of the lighthouse in the far distance. She wondered how John was faring out there. He may have been poor by her daddy's standards, nothing more than an office drone, but she had developed a fondness for him all the same. It was a strange feeling.
He wasn't the only one, either. Despite the island being overrun by poors, she had begun to feel things, strange things, like... empathy.
With her eyes still glued out the window, she reached for a glass of wine and held it up to her mouth, keeping her pinkie out all the while just like daddy had taught her. She then took a sip, recoiling from the bitter taste but sipping it down nonetheless. Daddy made no mistake that she had to acquire the taste sooner or later.
She thought ahead to what would happen after she got off this wretched place. She'd get her own TV show, obviously, she ascertained. Not even those Japanese freaks could steal her spotlight anymore.
But yet, she oddly didn't seem to find any joy in this. She frowned and put her pinkie back down, before resting the glass back down.
Princess got up and walked over to the intact portion of the window and gazed at her rainy reflection. Normally staring at herself for long enough would cheer her up, but it had no effect anymore. Despite herself, she still felt worry for her newfound friends.
But that quickly evaporated when she noticed another face join her in the reflection. Her heart began to pound as she whipped around to face them. The attacker swiftly bent down to grab her, but she ducked down and dove between their legs, before scrambling to her feet and making a break for it.
Princess dashed down the stairs as the attacker followed in hot pursuit. On her way down, she ripped off her hair ribbon and threw it behind her. In her periphery, she saw the attacker slip on it and take a nasty spill onto their back.
But she knew that'd only buy her another second or two, and began to run even faster. At the bottom of the stairs, she took a sharp turn and dashed through the parlor, towards the front double doors. It was possibly the most dangerous place she could think of, but that's just what she needed to lose her attacker, she ascertained.
As she burst outside to the mansion's front steps, she heard a multitude of splashing footsteps. She looked all around her, searching for the attacker, but couldn't see a thing. She then turned her attention to the bottom of the steps, as a familiar shape approached. Through the swirling wind and pouring rain, a disheveled John Mercer stepped into view.
"Princess! Is that you?" John yelled over the rain. He stood at the bottom of the steps staring up at the shadowed outline of Princess, who stood completely still.
"The... the security cameras were all destroyed." John went on. "I tried to save them but... well, the storm had other ideas. The lighthouse won't hold out long either."
"But that's not what's important." he continued. "I... I've found something. Something significant."
He then began to scale the steps and walk up to Princess, who remained completely still. He neared the top and clearly saw her face for the first time.
His eyes widened in horror when he saw it: a thin, bloody line all the way across her neck. As another strong gust of wind blew in, Princess' head toppled from her neck, and rolled down to John's feet.
He looked down and noticed a look of sheer terror across her face. A torrent of water then rushed over his feet and carried Princess' head down the steps.
VS.
"Pops went out like a wild man. Fuckin' lighthouse on his head, shit dude that is insane." - Silas
Played by: Eben Etzebeth Alignment: Maniac Role: The Poisoner Death: Lynched on Day 11
Death
+
The five suspected poisoners stood in the doorway to the parlor. All eyes were firmly planted on them as they attempted to defend themselves.
"It's margarita day in room 33!" shouted Dale.
The group nodded, fully satisfied by Dale's response.
"And you?" asked John as he poked Gavin in the shoulder.
"I said already, I am an architect. There are tunnels within the walls, I am able to--"
"WHAT TUNNELS?!" Tim Timmy yelled. "Why is this the first time I'm hearing about these?!"
"Uhh...bruh, we were all just inside the tunnels a few days ago..." reminded Logan.
Despite this, the group advanced on Gavin. He produced a floor plan from his pocket and waved it before the group, but it was thrown aside as they approached him.
Just then, something heavy clunked onto the ground in the confusion. Sigmund tried to delicately pick it up with his large hands. It was a vial of liquid. Someone had dropped it within the crowd.
"Unless that's a margarita, don't look at me!" said Dale with his hands up. Focus once again turned to Gavin.
"Is this what you planned on killing us with?" Brett asked as he took a step closer to the old man.
Gavin tried to explain, but no one would listen. Flint used his peg leg to knock Gavin's wooden cane out from underneath him, causing his old bones to collapse onto the ground.
"NONE OF DIS MEKS SENSE." shouted Arthur as he held Gavin's map in front of his eyes. "YA STORY BE BULLSHIDDUN."
Gavin tried to escape the angry mob before tripping and falling face first into Tim Timmy's cleavage, motor boating him accidentally. Tim ended it with a swift kick to Gavin's kneecap, dropping him onto the ground once more.
Erica grabbed the suspicious vial from Sigmund's hand and approached a beaten Gavin. She pulled his chin downwards, ripped the cork from the vial, and dumped the contents into Gavin's open mouth.
"How about a taste of death yourself, old man." Erica said defiantly.
It didn't take long for Gavin to begin convulsing on the ground. He shook violently as blood and sweat dripped down his face and stained his white beard a crimson red.
Finally, Gavin laid completely still. The group looked down in contempt as John dug through Gavin's robe to search its contents. "Gotta be poison in here somewhere." he said to himself.
John's eyes widened as he clutched something in his hand. "What the..."
Blueprints. Nothing but more floorplans of the mansion.
Gavin, The Architect, has been lynched.
Below is a map of the mansion's secret tunnel system. Each night, you may search for an entryway into the tunnels and attempt to block them. This will prevent anyone from accessing.
"Now now Miss Jane." Hugh said as he looked over Jane's shoulder while she typed furiously. "Start a fresh page, tell what really happened."
"Ugh. Can't I have a little bit of fun?" Jane said as she ripped the sheet to shreds and slid a new page in. "Fine...where was I."
John reached into Gavin's robe, when suddenly a hand shot outwards and grabbed his wrist to stop him. It was Gavin.
Gavin lunged to his feet, perfectly fine. "That was a vial of brandy, you dumb BITCH!" he yelled as he locked eyes with Erica.
Gavin reached into his robe and produced a much larger, black vial. He held it in the air threateningly. "STAY BACK! ALL OF YOU! This vial is filled with a deadly toxin. Smash it onto the ground and we all go the way of Buck, Buddy, and Bear. Don't fucking test me."
The group took a step away from the madman. Gavin held the vial high above the ground, ready to throw at any moment. He walked backwards into the rainy night as the group slowly followed him from a safe distance.
"There no where for you to go beard man." said Sigmund as he held his arms up non-threateningly.
"SIGMUND, ONE WORD COMES TO MIND WHEN I LOOK AT YOU....CUNT." Gavin shouted over the pounding rain and booming thunder.
"BRETT, YOU'RE A GOD DAMN HYPOCRITE. LEONARDO, YOU WERE USEFUL...FOR A TIME. KENDRICK, THAT DEAD DOG WAS SMARTER THAN YOU."
"Dude has gone and lost his mind, man." said Silas.
"Please....kill me." Slade said to Gavin. "I like this idea."
"QUIET. EVERYONE. None of you will leave this place alive. This is the end of the road for each and every one of us, when are you going to understand that? We were dead the moment we arrived!"
Lighting struck a tree in the distance as thunder boomed out over Gavin's voice. His beard was now caked with blood and his robe was dark and heavy due to the downpour of rain. The group shivered in a crowd a few feet in front of Gavin as he continued to take steps backwards.
John took a step forward and reached his hand outwards.
"We may be lynching you, but that doesn't mean we don't love you." he said as he took another step closer to Gavin in an attempt to disarm him.
"Hey John, shut the FUCK UP." Gavin yelled. Thunder boomed out once more.
Gavin eyed an approaching John and raised the poisonous vial up in the air, ready to bring it crashing down.
"YOU. SHALL NOT. PAAAAAAASSSSSSSSS."
Gavin began to bring his arm in a downward motion as the group prepared for their imminent death. Just then, a bolt of lighting struck the base of the lighthouse about thirty feet behind Gavin. A crack formed where the bolt hit and quickly spread around the base of the structure before splintering up the side of it.
The lighthouse rocked and began to sway forward as a warping sound boomed out into the night.
Gavin turned his head behind him as he clutched the poison vial in his hand. The lighthouse was now crashing down fast, creaking as it approached the ground. Gavin screamed as the shadow of the oncoming lighthouse swallowed him in darkness.
The lighthouse slammed on top of Gavin and pulverized him into the earth. The group took a few big steps backwards as the ground shook and dust and debris kicked up from the collapse.
When the smoke settled, the group approached the remnants of the lighthouse. Gavin's arm was thrust out the side of the frame, now mostly severed with a snapped bone jutting from his skin. The black vial sat safely in his hand before dropping out onto the wet grass. The group watched as it rolled down the hillside and plopped gently into the sea.
#1 GOAT
