There are many theories on the nature of the afterlife (if indeed such a thing exists). Many of them posit the existence of a perfect and paradisaical realm to which consciousness ascends after shuffling off the mortal coil. While such a concept is difficult to prove by any non-terminal means, just suppose, for the sake of argument, that such a place exists. There may just be a little corner of it, somewhere up there in the aether, in which composers of the second millenium A.D. convene to compare, collaborate, and contradict one another, as such people are wont to do.
For a while things would probably be alright. It's in the nature of art of any kind that the established leaders of any generation will have some stylistic objections to the trends of the next generation, sure. Nevertheless, conventional wisdom generally ran thusly: "We're (mostly) sane people here and sooner or later we'll just have to accept each other's differences, right?" Not without a considerable amount of grumbling, of course, because you can't stop some people from complaining even in paradise, but for the most part the centuries passed without undue violence to or from the occasional new arrivals.
And then, with the end of the millenium, there arose...a disturbance. A cold, cacaphonous style which sought to claim that anything, ANYTHING, random noise, an audience coughing, should be considered "music."
One by one, the conventional elements were abandoned--melody, harmony, rhythm, until the sound that assaulted one and all seemed akin to that of a toddler banging on the keys of a piano, and this set the inhabitants of Composer's Heaven quite into disarray. "'Atonal music?' How can there be such a thing? The very phrase is a contradiction in terms! Avant-garde nonsense, the lot of it. Minimalism? Pfah! A sad label for the creatively bankrupt." Nevertheless, it was an incontrovertible fact that someone in their midst was writing it, and it was only getting louder as new voices added to the broken choir. This led each and every one of the composers to the same horrifying conclusion:
It would only be a matter of time before they were beset by Philip Glass.
If they are to avoid this sorry fate, they must work together. Analysis of each individual's work will no doubt reveal the tell-tale slips that declare the guilty to be amongst the ranks of the dread serialists! Querelous though they might be, this stark realization unified the composers as nothing before. If there's one thing they can all agree on, it's that this postmodern cacaphony should be sent back to the hell that spawned it: the twentieth century!
Admittedly there's not much you can do to hurt someone who's already dead...not physically, at least. However, forcible emigration to the realm of washed up country musicians should teach anyone the error of their ways. It may take them a lifetime or two but, well, they DO have eternity.
Mod's note: A nameclaim should not be taken as proof of guilt or innocence. All non-Town players have safe cover identities.
Also mod's note: The flavor text of this game will feature the Cid at his geekiest. You have been warned.
Also also mod's note: And no, contrary to the gospel of Pratchett, Heaven did not just get Elgar and Liszt. This is no kind of clue; neither composer makes an appearance in this game. That is all, play nice kiddies, etc.
Rules:
- No editing your posts.
- No talking outside the thread unless your role specifically states that you may.
- No posting during game nights.
- No spectator posts. Period.
- Don't directly quote your role PM.
- PLAY TO WIN.
- There may or may not be third parties with seperate win conditions from scum or town.
- There will be no extensions.
- LYLO will be announced.
- There are roles in this game, but this is a closed setup.
- There may or may not be 'scripted sequences' of events that change the rules of the game and things like that.
- If there is a deadlock at the deadline, the day will end without a lynch.
- Days will last 72 hours.
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Still kicking it old school
7. Shale
8. Ryogo
12. Corwin
Exiled to Planet CMT
2. Smodge13, Antonio Vivaldi (Vanilla townie)
11. Carthrat, Pyotr Ilyich Tchaichovsky (Vanilla townie)
9. EvilTom, John Cage (Scum roleblocker)
10. Keeshi, Richard Wagner (Town cop)
6. Excal, Modest Mussorgsky (Vanilla townie)
1. Hunter Sopko, Arnold Schoenberg (Scum godfather)
4. AndrewRogue, J. S. Bach (Vanilla townie)
13. Otter, Claude Debusyy (Vanilla townie)
3. OblivionKnight, Frederic Chopin (Vanilla townie)
5. Sir Alex, Ludwig von Beethoven (Vanilla townie)
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With 13 alive, it takes 7 to lynch.
There are 72 hours remaining.
