The Stars my Degradation. (Or Space Jam & by Jam, I mean Blood)

1.  No bloodlust here.  I'm a pacifist which is why I advocate for non violent means to neutralize threats. 

2.  I have been completely professional on this voyage.  But there has been some kind of conspiracy to get me reported to HR.  Jokes on them though, whoever represents HR here is probably dead.

Gayer needs to go to her room, too. Well, the room she pooped in.

1.  No bloodlust here.  I'm a pacifist which is why I advocate for non violent means to neutralize threats. 

2.  I have been completely professional on this voyage.  But there has been some kind of conspiracy to get me reported to HR.  Jokes on them though, whoever represents HR here is probably dead.

No need to get crusty with me, Crouton. I have less power on this space ship than an ant. I never realised how truly useless it is being a dumb ol ghost, until this voyage.

I'm not going in the room I did a poo in, it smells in there.

1.  No bloodlust here.  I'm a pacifist which is why I advocate for non violent means to neutralize threats. 

2.  I have been completely professional on this voyage.  But there has been some kind of conspiracy to get me reported to HR.  Jokes on them though, whoever represents HR here is probably dead.

You weren't entirely professional on our tour of the death sites earlier. You kept taking selfies over the bloody spots.

In the past, the dead were respected. I have never seen anyone asking for support from the dead except one. Only Gotham did this and he was killed anyway. It seems that the choice must be made between Crouton or gayer, and that is how the game will end. The person who will do this is none other than SCG, who knows them both best. If scg penguin the game is already lost. If there is no lynching today, the penguin will kill scg and the game will probably be lost again since the pimp is inactive. The only possibility now is to commit a lynching and it must be the right person. Oh yeah, looks like a 50 percent chance. scg can roll dice, because scg is not God.

Quote from: Crouton on September 13, 2024, 02:28:03 PM

1.  No bloodlust here.  I'm a pacifist which is why I advocate for non violent means to neutralize threats. 

2.  I have been completely professional on this voyage.  But there has been some kind of conspiracy to get me reported to HR.  Jokes on them though, whoever represents HR here is probably dead.

No need to get crusty with me, Crouton. I have less power on this space ship than an ant. I never realised how truly useless it is being a dumb ol ghost, until this voyage.

Actually being a ghost is not bad in this game. In fact, being the first to die is very advantageous. But clearly some of them wanted to play without any help of dead, perhaps trying to prove how good players they were. And now we've lost 3 people without lynching anyone, and even if lynching was necessary, we have no real leads. Maybe this could be a success, in the parallel universe.

I already rolled the dice and it came up Mr Crouton. He had the matching murder weapon. I could be wrong, Gayer could be the penguin, but Crouton is the most suspicious.

ANYWAY [I vote to expel Crouton through an airlock without a spacesuit]

I'm sorry we haven't communicated with the dead, wise. It was difficult to figure out what is going on, and even if the dead had any clues.

[vote to cancel SCG's vote, or at least to wear a spacesuit while I'm blasted out an airlock]

I'll let you all know something I probably should have said earlier.  That incident earlier where somebody tried to kill me but failed?  That was the Ripley Effect™.  I am no penguin.

But no hard feeling if you all decide to vote me off the island.  I just request that you give me a spacesuit and point me in the direction of Barnard's star.

Quote from: Crouton on September 13, 2024, 02:28:03 PM

1.  No bloodlust here.  I'm a pacifist which is why I advocate for non violent means to neutralize threats. 

2.  I have been completely professional on this voyage.  But there has been some kind of conspiracy to get me reported to HR.  Jokes on them though, whoever represents HR here is probably dead.

You weren't entirely professional on our tour of the death sites earlier. You kept taking selfies over the bloody spots.

I do have upwards of 11 instagram followers that I need to provided content for.

No spacesuit seems harsh, let's give him a spacesuit and some snacks for the way. Maybe he'll hit the spaceship that's following us.
[I vote to expel Crouton with a spacesuit and some snacks but I couldn't find a helmet. Sorry.]

Quote from: Smoke Machine on September 13, 2024, 10:52:49 PM

Quote from: Crouton on September 13, 2024, 02:28:03 PM

1.  No bloodlust here.  I'm a pacifist which is why I advocate for non violent means to neutralize threats. 

2.  I have been completely professional on this voyage.  But there has been some kind of conspiracy to get me reported to HR.  Jokes on them though, whoever represents HR here is probably dead.

No need to get crusty with me, Crouton. I have less power on this space ship than an ant. I never realised how truly useless it is being a dumb ol ghost, until this voyage.

Actually being a ghost is not bad in this game. In fact, being the first to die is very advantageous. But clearly some of them wanted to play without any help of dead, perhaps trying to prove how good players they were. And now we've lost 3 people without lynching anyone, and even if lynching was necessary, we have no real leads. Maybe this could be a success, in the parallel universe.

It would be nice to think the dead could be regenerated if the penguin is successfully killed in time, and the winning survivors can sail off into the sunset.

The dead need to secretly vote on a lynching and it will be tight numbers. All remaining living players have the gift of the gab. Each a gifted convincing liar in their own right.

Crouton almost has an answer for everything. Space Cowgirl is almost always conveniently nowhere near the crime scenes (so she says) Gayer is so laid back, she could either sew herself back together or snuff the entire crew either way without breaking a sweat. 

But, Crouton has one half of a murder weapon. Just unlucky I guess, ey, Crouton? You'd might as well be holding the smoking gun. I bet it sucks when your murder weapon breaks in half during the killing blow.

Not implying you should be snuffed, Crouton.  I'm sure you have a logical explanation, or you've been set up.

Not much to say about it now. The votes are in and I'm going out in one last glorious space walk.

As the cold metal corridors of our spaceship echo with the finality of the vote, I can't help but reflect on our journey. Crouton, our dear comrade, is about to be ejected. With the absence of the narrator, the result remains unofficial, but the signs are clear: if Crouton is indeed the Penguin, victory is ours.

Crouton’s removal signifies a pivotal moment in our tale. He was once a stalwart ally, a member of the team that saw through the chaos of this interstellar voyage. Scg, with his strategic prowess, and Gayet, whose calm demeanor often hid a sharp intellect, are left to navigate the final moves of this gam

In our time aboard, Gotham and Smoker stood side by side with me. We faced the void together, our spirits unyielding in the face of the unknown. Those shared moments of camaraderie, the strategic discussions in the dim light of the spaceship’s control room, and our fleeting victories will remain etched in my memory. As the corridors of our vessel grow quieter, I cherish the nostalgia of our shared adventures and the bond that formed in the heart of the stars.

That's a splendid piece of writing, Wise! Very moving, poetic, and sentimental at the same time. It captures this camaraderie beautifully.

Crouton dined on the last meal of his choice. Soggy sao biscuits found squirelled away by a previous all male crew onboard the ship.

Questions concerning this enigma of a man burned bright in the surviving crew and the recently departed, but remained unanswered. His secrets poised to disappear into the cold void of space, along with his wretched murderous body. Had he always been a maniac? Had something infected his mind? What was his motive?

We may never ever know.

As the final echoes of Crouton's departure fade into the silence of our ship, the enigma of his true nature remains a shadow cast across our journey. Smoker's poignant reflections on the last meal and the unanswered questions that linger serve as a somber reminder of the mysteries we may never fully unravel. Crouton's legacy, shrouded in uncertainty, drifts away with him into the cold, unfeeling expanse of space.

In the wake of this crucial event, I find myself contemplating the veiled truths that may have eluded us all. The corridors of our vessel, once vibrant with life and purpose, now feel like a cryptic void where every corner seems to whisper secrets left behind. Our victory, though significant, feels tainted by the shadows of what we might never understand. As Smoker's words resonate, I am reminded of the fragile line between camaraderie and betrayal, and the enduring mystery of those we once called allies.

I have changed my mind.

I would like to be shot out directly in front of thr nostrillo to herald our triumphant arrival at earth.

That can be arranged your featheriness

Crouton, I just hope you enjoyed your last meal, or did it leave a bad taste in your mouth?

If I had it my way, given what you cowardly did to my Earthly body, I would arrange for sticks of dynamite shoved up your cake hole with a long fuse to burn through. While your hands are tied behind your back you will be awake in your hypersleep pod, unable to sleep and fully alert having forcibly consumed six cans of mother. You in your pod will be ejected from the space ship. After Wise, Gotham, and I cheer as your atoms are obliterated, I will smile my ghostly smile at your newly ghostly visage, and give you the bird.

No hard feelings ofcourse, though! 

I did something to your body?

Last week I suggested to the narrator that it would be a good idea to pause the game for the weekend. he continued the game over the weekend instead and I got killed that weekend. now there is no narrator this weekend and therefore we have to accept that the game is on pause? No. Since the narrator wants the game to continue over the weekend, I continue to play the game with his narrative style. Thus, the play continued according to its original decision on this weekend, when the narrator was not around. Meanwhile, Jura lost another 100 space reputation points.

As punishment we should make Jura narrate a neverending story.

As the final echoes of Crouton's exit fade into the void, an unsettling stillness settles over the ship. The silent expanse of space envelops his absence, casting long shadows over the remnants of our journey. Smoker's dark musings on the final meal and the questions left unanswered linger like ghosts, underscoring the unsettling nature of Crouton's exit. In the cold, indifferent stretch of the cosmos, Crouton’s legacy drifts away, its true essence shrouded in the impenetrable silence of space.

Yet, as the vessel continues its path through the void, an unexpected twist surfaces from the depths of our collective doubt. Crouton’s last request, to be ejected directly before the nostrillo, is fulfilled, but in the empty expanse of the cosmos, something peculiar occurs. The enigmatic form that was once Crouton, now adrift among the stars, seems to shimmer with an unfamiliar luminescence.

It is in this quiet, haunting moment that the whispers begin. Was Crouton truly what he appeared to be? The shadows of his final journey linger, casting doubt and suspicion on the nature of his exit. The void seems to hum with unanswered questions, and the mysteries of Crouton’s essence remain tantalizingly out of reach. In the cold silence of space, the truth remains elusive, a spectral riddle left to haunt our memories.

And so it came to be, despite his supposed heroics in the battle of the workshop Crouton went without further drama to the Hatch 2 room where he donned his favourite spacesuit, the one with the bugs bunny ears Velcro'd to the helmet, prodded along the corridor to the airlock by his captain now in charge of Excalibur, his weapon of choice and watched carefully by Gayer clutching her hammer, he pondered on the life choices that had led to this unfortunate outcome.
Why had he not engaged with the ghost council? Yes it was populated by mental people but in times past they had been useful, other times not so.

As he stood alone in the airlock he wondered if the “Ripley effect” could save him here, but as the door was released with still an amount of pressure inside and he was expelled into the darkness he realised, probably not. As he tumbled head over-heels he tried to ignite the correction jets, but they didn't work as they should, perhaps he shouldn't have picked his favourite suit at all, as there was someone liable to have them disconnected on board who had reasonably guessed which suit he would wear.
He looked at his available breathable air, 2 hours, it was moot, as his uncorrected tumble spun him straight into the plume of superheated exhaust from Engine 2 and he was incinerated.

As they headed back along the walkway, Spacey was finally happy.

“Well that's that then, we can write this up and get back into hypersleep and go home, I wonder where Pez got to?”

“Oh!” A voice from behind, “His body is stowed in one of the escape pods.”

Cold rippled down her spine as she whipped round, Gayer's hammer hit her square between the eyes and all went black.

Gayer looked down at her body and the spreading pool of blood, “Well I'm not cleaning your mess up captain. Mother, what do I do now?”

Mothers soothing voice, came over the intercom “A new course has been set, go back to your pod, you will be well looked after when we reach our destination.”

    
Time line.
 
Tight beam communication from Weyland-Yutani Corporation deep space probe alters the course of the Nostrillo to rendezvous at Barnards Star and awakens the synthetic sleeper agent Ash.
 
Ash picks up Xenopenguin egg from probe in Nostrillo’s shuttle and returns to the ship, secretes the egg in Gayers locker, sabotages Mothers systems and installs his personality over that of Mothers using corporation backdoor program and reseals his body back in the pod.
 
Wakes crew and through Mothers systems helps the Gayer/penguin to kill the remaining staff to facilitate the return of an infected human to Weyland-Yutani Corporation’s weapon division base near Neptune.

Questions?   
 

There were a few admittedly vague hints in the narrative that could of helped, including the inclusion of “Courtesy of Weyland-Yutani Corporation” to the first schematic of the ship, it may have engendered a search and given you a clue to what happened in the original Alien series.
Mother briefly singing “Daisy daisy.” was an inference to Hal the mad computer in 2001 a space odyssey, but yes, vague.     

Gayer!

Dear Jura, this was one of the best games. It was because we didn't know what was going on, and it was because we didn't send a million private messages. IMO! We were basically all on our own.

Thank you, I was always here if you wanted clarification, a shame there was so few actually playing.

How on earth did Gayer convince you it was Crout's after his fight scene?

Gayer didn't do anything, I just thought it probably was Crouton. Gayer seems so innocent!

Great game. Apologies for not reaching out to the ghost council. I was thrown off by the non standard nature of the rules. I my defense my last recommendation was correct.