"Trezzer" accomplished an outstanding assassination of Angela "Agent Big Yellow Rubber Duck" Rayner and Alex "Cookie Monster" Churchill thusly:

I came from the east, to the land of red brick, and Robinson was its name. After speaking with the guards of the gates, I knew my route in, and swiftly scaled the stairs to the room of my victim. I was not expecting what I found there. No easy fresher target, no open door, but a shared set owned by two of the most dedicated assassins I have met, with two locked doors between myself and my victim. Still, I could not return without having tried. I knocked, hoping my ridiculous plan would be enough to see me through. A man's voice answered. As my target was a woman I knew this did not bode well...

"I've brought Angela half a ginger cake." The sheer bizarreness of the statement was enough for me to gain entrance through the outer door. I was led to the room where Angela lay slumbering, clutching the ginger cake in one hand, running my fingers over the paper knife in my pocket. I could feel myself being examined through the spy hole. "Do I know you?" Well, there was no point in lying. "No. I've brought you half a ginger cake." The door slid open a crack.

I found myself looking down the barrel of the largest gun I had seen. Scanning the room, I noticed a cleaver on the table, a dagger besides it, an axe under the bed and a pistol at the feet of Angela's comrade, who was now seated at the computer. Not to mention the fact Angela was still holding the water gun, keeping it trained on my every move. Suddenly my paper knife seemed very, very unimpressive. I took refuge in my only defence. "It's half a ginger cake. From the man on the market. Err, why are you so paranoid? Are you assassins or something?"

I soon had their confession from there own lips. Their weapons were, clearly, on display. Unfortunately the odds of me being able to draw my knife and stab without one of them causing my untimely end were not promising at all. So I took refuge in the first story that sprang to mind. "It's a bizarre initiation rite for a secret society. I can't tell you which. You have to deliver half a ginger cake to a random person at the university. It's good cake." I ate the first slice myself, to prove it wasn't poisoned. (How would you poison a ginger cake? With strong flavored spices like ginger?) And so began a pleasant half hour, of cake and very good company, and free flowing conversation about life, assassins, children and more. We began to relax. Alex placed his gun at his feet to search on his computer for societies requiring ginger cake, Angela relaxed her hold on hers. She even showed me her new, retractable glow in the dark knife, opening the packet so I could get a good look at it.

I toyed with the weapon in my hand for ten minutes. Then, it having gone four, I knew the time was ripe. Attempting to look nonchalant I strolled over to look at what Alex was typing, and stabbed him brutally in the back, wheeling round to take out Angela before she could respond. They were dead, killed by their own knife when clearly displaying weapons. Pride rushed through me. Thus perished Alex Churchill and Angela Rayner.

And then I hung around for a bit longer, we finished off the cake and ate jellibabies, and then I went home. But that is another story...

Miss Rubber Duck has this to say:
*sad quack*

And as for me:
Not much I can add to the story - Trezzer has told it well, with no false claims of overconfidence. She tricked us effectively, though. She asked us if we were /still/ paranoid about her; we responded that she was suspiciously keeping her hands in her pockets. She showed us a scrap of paper, giggled and said it's just how she stands normally, and removed them quickly. Such disarming willingness to appease our suspicions lulled our guard.

I was still unconvinced for at least 20 minutes, and while not holding a gun in my hand, I remained ready to jump for one should our mysterious guest demonstrate any hostility. But she conspicuously failed to do so, seeming more interested in chatting about the joys of lectures, hometowns and such other relaxing topics. She played the part extremely effectively; my paranoia was finally quietened. Which was my doom. Still, congratulations go to Trezzer for a well-accomplished kill, and the most surreal excuse-to-get-in-the-door I've experienced in my long murdering career.

Cookie Monster and Agent Big Yellow Rubber Duck are now policepeople.

Lent 2000

Jan 28: PC Horus kills Delirium

Another assassin fails to make a kill at Fitz. The Fitz Mafia looks very strong this term. I advise all assassins to be extremely cautious.

La la la, tra la la...
 
  I got shot this morning. I was not happy about it. >:-(
 
  Hmmm... I guess it might have been my own fault, though. I was trying to kill Mark Savage at Fitz. Just kinda turned up, his door was open, so I stopped round a corner to bring out some fun things to shoot him with... Except I got distracted.
 
  *plaintively* If you hear someone coming out of a door that you've seen is ajar, you're going to shoot them, right? Except it wasn't Mark coming out of Mark's door after all - it was his next-door neighbour coming out of his own door. He kinda informed me of this after the bullets had gone through his chest. He was a most inconsiderate corpse - he shouted through the door "Hey Mark, there's some assassins here to kill you!"
 
  (Just like he did last night. But that was earlier. And I didn't know about that then anyway.)
 
  I hung around for a bit, and suddenly had someone run at me from the other direction, toting an XP40! Looks like the corpse hadn't even slipped off to some part of the underworld yet (like lectures), but had run off to alert another assassin in the corridor. I hid for a bit, but it was so boring waiting in that doorway... So I threw a few things at him. They missed. He was an annoying person too. I don't like it when people annoy me. I stepped out and was about to get properly angry...
 
  But he shot me in the chest.

It is believed that this other assassin was none other than PC Horus! I'll check this one out - watch this space for more details...

I'm going to go to my realm and sulk now.

  ___,.
   )   )   /  (        @   )--.  @   )   .-     |\  /(
  /   /   <-   )      /   /     (   (   (      .' )/  )
./__.'     \  (_.-. .'`--'       )   \___\_.--'     -'

lalala, she's following her fishy... lalala...

[...]

Message from PC Delirium

Um. Is there a word for the feeling when you feel silly for shooting someone who you weren't meant to shoot and so deserve to be wanted, but get it mixed up in your head and step into the path of a jet of water because you think you're already dead, and only realise that you weren't dead before the water hit you afterwards when your girlfriend asks you what happened?

Feb 9: Asteroidea Mortigena kills PC Delirium (legitimately)

Again I have managed to kill a policeman, though it was him who initiated the attack. We were leaving a staircase in Robinson when PC Delirium starts throwing shuruikens at us. Ok we were armed to the teeth with CPS weaponry, but I thought this was a little too much so he got what was coming to him after a slightly amusing fight.

Asteroidea Mortigena

I spied some hunters today. I just walked out from visiting a friend and they were there and they had two pretty coloured guns and there was a girl and SEVEN men! And they were talking about tactical regrouping and generally standing around looking threatening. So despite not really being in the mood, I thought I'd have a bit of a try at them... what with regen- eration day coming up and things... They claimed that none of my pretty throwy things hit them before I got hit in the face by a big CPS blast. I couldn't really see, due to being hiding behind a wall at the time.

But at least I saw the face of Baron Scarpia, Asteroida Mutenda (or whatever his name is) and several of the rest of the Pigs. So should they come out bearing weapons again, then maybe I'll tell them that they've got invisible bugs crawling up and all around their body... *grrr*

But it was fun. And not very wet, after all. *happybounce*

Ooh, look, my fishy...

Feb 13: Death of PC Deathmaster

Something....
A perception.....
Ahhh, concousness.
Where am I?
Ah yes, Dead!
That is why my mind is so slow.
How did I get here?
Thats harder... No worries, I have until Tuesday morning to figure it out.

In a flash memories return.

I recall a searching a fair city for foul criminals. 3 were elusive, but the last was easily tracked. Serge by name, he was wanted for incomplete contracts. I died by politeness. Let me explain:

I found his house and cunningly pressed the buzzer for his next door neighbour. Now the window was open but I thought it polite to ask and be refused before climbing in. Much to my surprise the response to "I'm here to kill Serge, could you let me in?" was "yeah, I guess.."

Stalking up the stairs I see a flash of motion ahead. Lightsabre in hand I observe. The door through which I saw the motion begins to open and a hand holding a shuriken launcher comes into view. Bounding up the last few steps I position myself in the cover of the door. A manic voice comes from the far side, "I've got a lightsabre too. Fancy a duel?"

A person comes forth from another door bearing the sabre, then, somehow, another is there, and armed.

Oh dear, I bet I can guess what happened, and who these Jedis were...

3:1, I must act now. Hacking the other sabre-wielder in the side my weapon lodges in his spine. My knife thirsts for blood so I attack, throwing myself at the gunman. A split second before I reach him I am thrown to one side by the force of shuriken tearing through my body. Then I was here.

Unfortunately the spirit planes show that my victim was an innocent, but he was working for my first assailant/target and had a weapon. The gunman was none other than the wanted criminal Serge. My killer? PC Delirium. I will be back, and my vengance will be terrible. It will also be conducted with the biggest gun I can find and without manners.

The Deathmaster. (Deceased, again)

Is it normal to start a chocolate, and then start a pack of Jelly Tots when you're only halfway through the chocolate, and then start some apple when you've got two-thirds of the jelly to go?

And is it normal to let someone in when they buzz your door and answer the question "Who is it?" with "Somebody to kill Serge... he's an assassin, you know"?

*happy reminiscing smile*

He had a bright glowing lightsabre. One of my lightsabres is blue and the other is red and green except I lost that one somewhere in London but his was white. He came up the stairs with a big white glowing lightsabre. It might not be the most self-preserving thing to do, but I like the style. I kinda forgot he was here to challenge the wanted criminal, and got distracted by the way he was bearing weapons, so I was allowed to shoot at him...

A few of my blue and pink rounds flew past him, and a few more bounced off the door. I didn't get to bring the gun with red and yellow spinny rounds out this time, but that's OK cos I'm sure there will be other times... I like having weapons that are pretty colours and spin *big-eyed-smile*

Then I admired his lightsabre (through the window on a very firmly closed door), and introduced ourselves. He's Dan Deathmaster, I'm Alex Delirium, and very pleased to meet you :-) Then we challenged each other to a lightsabre duel. Except by the time we found my lightsabre, Serge himself had appeared, and Dan got distracted by trying to chop him in half with the Jedi weapon...

He ignored me! *stamps foot, scowls* I don't like it when people stop talking to me when I was enjoying chatting to them, even if a wanted criminal does walk out of the door behind them. So I shot him in the back with several more pink and blue spinny things. I like a gun with rapid-fire capability, when it fires such pretty discs...

So it's a legal kill, cos he was bearing weapons. We didn't even realise till afterwards that we were both Police officers. But he was such a nice man - after he died, we got on so well. We decided that now we knew we were on the same side we wouldn't kill each other any more, even once he comes back to life on Tuesday, and we could be friends... *bigsmile*

-.--.  ,--         /               _.---.  \
 |.-' |         ___|             .'  .-, )  )
 |    |        /   |             (  ( '-' _.'
-'-  o `-- o   \__(_ o   ...      \  `---'

Feb 24: The Great Mutato kills PC Delirium

Thursday night, 7.30 pm.

I'm calmly walking out of my college, chatting with the French teacher. Crowd coming in front of us.

A glimpse : "hey, it's the Tooth Fairy, here!". I notice her, she notices me. Heads turn. Tension. She must go to the formal hall...

Suddenly, another sight : PC Delirium ! Wow ! That's dangerous ! And he's going to stop ! He's not going to run after me, no ? Oh yes indeed, he is!! Ready to miss the grace for the sake of Cambridge police... Isn't this marvellous ? Tears come to my eyes. You will be able to write on his tombstone : "missed a good meal and got killed for wanting to accomplish his duty, even outside hours".

Anyway, I don't want to wait. I start to run (thus rudely interrupting a passionate conversation about French litterature...) as fast as I can. Door ! Garden ! What else ? Oh yes : gun ! Thanks God, I'm getting pretty paranoid these days, so I've got several of them on me. He's right behind me. Hurray ! I've got water pistol in hand. But... It's dark outside, I can't see a thing, I jump... and miserably fall down. Immediately, make a blind shoot and... have the pleasure to receive the rest of PC Delirium's brains on my hands!

Clyde Barrow : I believe it makes one point for me, no ?

Claire

I was looking forward to eating at Newnham Hall tonight. I'd brought along a cow and a purple hippo because they're cool, and jellybabies because they're cool too, and lots of bullets and shurikens because the place was after all the hideout of the Wanted (or is she dead?) miss Claire Bordenave.

I didn't expect to see her in the bar beforehand... and I was right. *smile* I didn't expect her to walk past while we were queueing for Hall, either... but I was wrong this time. She spotted my face queueing and was obviously a bit surprised (maybe I forgot to put my eyes back in the right colours), and walked off quickly. I decided to follow her, just for a game :-) ... she started running very quickly when she saw this. She dashed outside and I followed her, still trying to pull a weapon out of my coat...

Then she slipped and rolled onto the ground. Finally getting a shuriken out, I called out "Are you OK?" (and was about to throw the thing), when she shot me in the face. I hadn't seen her gun - I hadn't even seen the bag she pulled it out of... I guess I wasn't really looking *shuffles feet*. But it was a very impressive aim from lying flat on the wet grass, having just tripped over. So she deserves the kill. But now she's given away that as far as she's concerned, she's still playing *grin*

*sudden shy face* Oh, and I've been keeping a little secret? I got killed about a week ago as well. It was a very silly death: I walked into the Tooth Fairy's room, she handed me a SuperSoaker saying "Hold this!", and then PC Archaeopteryx shot me from behind the door.

But I thought I'd tell you now. We were thinking of hiding it, but it's not good to pretend. Besides which, if I can count that one as well then I get 4 deaths this term - as many as Dan Deathmaster! There hasn't been able to be a "Who-died-the-most" award in any game before, has there? It'll need a name... the Kenny award or something... Me and Dan are the only ones with a hope of getting it though *giggle*

-.--.   .--.      ___                  -._.--'
 |___) /          (  `.  .--  (     @    )  @  ,   .-     |\  /(
 |     \           )   )  \_   )   (    /  (   :  (      .' )/  )
-'-  o  `--' o   ./__.'   (__ (_.-. `--'    )  `.__\_.--'      (_.--'

Michaelmas 99 1:

The Masked Man has the satisfaction of reporting a successful assassination. His Light Side visited Queens' College, in search for Mr Ginger. As planned, on discovering the target wasn't in his room, the Masked Man then visited Queens' cafeteria. After making inquiries of several groups of freshers, one man foolishly owned up to being Neil Brown. A tense but very short confrontation ensued, the dialogue going along the lines of:

MM: Are you Neil Brown?
NB: ...Yes... suspiciously Why? 
    NB reaches for his pocket
MM: Ah, you signed you were interested in a society.
    MM takes hold of ninja throwing stars in his own pocket
NB: A society? ...Which one was that?
    MM observes NB's hand taking hold of something in pocket
MM: casting the throwing stars The Assassins' Guild.
    NB attempts to draw his gun and fire at MM, but unfortunately
discovers his motor control is not what it used to be when he was alive

Michaelmas 1999 2:

Mauve visited The Wooden Spoon, and got himself wanted:

Just a quiet evening in with Masked Man Light and an innocent named Jill.

There was a knock at the door and Jill opened it...."I'm looking for The Wooden Spoon Are you her?" said the voice. "No" said Jill, "she's in here". At that point, the door was shut quickly. After planning manouveres for a few minutes, Jill stood in front of the door, Masked Man Light opened it and I hid in the toilet. Within seconds as I poked my head out, I saw a man with a huge gun and in even less time, Jill was soaked, I caught some sidespray and reached out to make a shot with the confetti gun. I don't believe my shot got anybody. However, my room is unfortunately a "no water weapons" room so Jill isn't dead. The assassins outside ran down the stairs and Masked Man Light threw a few shurikens at them. One of the shurikens caught an accomplice. In a valiant attempt to get the assassin, Masked Man Light's shoulder took a heavy wound, but this was wrapped up and bandaged soon after. He is receiving TLC.

And Mauve says:

The door was opened by an innocent, but upon noticing me she closed the door. It was opened by a man who I thought was a bystander, and also inside I could see the woman who had opened the door originally. However, my target (Wooden Spoon) was a woman and so I could not see her, and did not shoot.

However, Wooden Spoon popped out from behind the civilian woman (who it seemed she had set up as a human shield) with a cap gun, and I was forced to fire. We agreed at the time I hadn't hit the target except with richochets, but I had surely massacred the innocent (Although to my mind she was being used as a shield).

Things didn't end there, the male bystander drew weapons revealing himself as a potential target, and took swipes at us with a sword, and then sliced up my two "civilian" associates with adept use of ninja stars.

However, I did succesfully wipe him out by slicing him from just above his right pec to his shoulder.

And then I got away.

Don't use a water weapon on a no-water-weapons room again, or you will not stay in the game. The Masked Man L was deemed to have had his shoulder blown off, and is due out of Hospital tomorrow. Mauve is on the wanted list.

Michaelmas 1999 3:

The Masked Man L killed Harland Quinn today.

Everyone loves the Harlequin's style
Of reporting his kills with a poem,
But still, all the same, the easiest target
To kill is one where you know him.

So Masked Man found out the time and the place
When Harley would go to a lecture,
And staked out the place from 10 mins before
My victim would usually get there.

In time his bright hair was seen thru' the window
Where I'd found to watch from aloft;
I moved and was there with a greet at the door
Poor Quinn's paranoia'd grown soft.

When asked if he knew the fictitious Andrew Nathan,
He said no, that name wasn't known.
So I punished him for his ignorance
With bullets shot and shurikens thrown.

Remorse striking me at the death of a friend
Was eased in our post-mortem chat,
As his career mashing incompetents
Can continue in a Policeman's hat.

But still, let us pause for a moment to mourn
The Harlequin loved so well,
And I hope this report is fitting and apt
By being such awful doggerel.

There's not much more to add, to the Masked Man L's tale,
And I complement him on his verse.
So from beyond the Grave, on an Old Spanish Train,
I relieve him of the Harlequin's curse.

I bid you 'Adieu', as I finally rot,
And await for my next incarnation.
I look forward to a nice, high CID rank,
And join the police with much anticipation.

Mich 99 4:

A poisoning attempt by Tiny Tim (aka Baby Brilliant):

I spent most of the afternoon poisoning The Masked Man Light's favourite jellybabies using tabasco with special emphasis on Baby Bumper. I had a really neat plan as to their placement but was foiled by the stupid Robinson pigeonholes - 6 people sharing is too great a risk for a bombing attempt.

I ended up just placing an authentic plastic bagfull in the tray with a letter (contact poisoned on the inside). I doubt he'll fall for the letter but the jellybabies look totally normal.

And from the intended victim:

The Masked Man wishes to report that his Light Side is still very much alive, with apologies to the assassins behind the rather feeble poisoning attempt earlier today. He is rather disappointed to learn that some Guild members would think him foolish enough to eat confectionery delivered in his pigeonhole, even with a note claiming they were to "cheer him up" from one of his close associates (in handwriting rather noticeably different from that of said associate). He is also moderately irritated at the loss of a good pair of gloves, due to the white powdery residue on said note.

There are only three players left - Tim Pike (Tigger), Matthew Laycock (Tiny Tim), and Alex Churchill (The Masked Man's Light Side). Therefore, I have called a truce until a time and place for a duel can be agreed on. Watch this space

Mich 1999 5:

The Duel

Sunday 28th November

The following report comes in from the winner this term - Matt Laycock (Tiny Tim):

I was armed with 50 throwing knives, over 200 rubber bands, 2 rubber band guns, 2 water pistols, 20 or so water bombs, spare water, a "Hailstorm" dart gun, a "Supermaxx-1000" dart gun, CPS-1000, mini-lightsaber, a smaller water firing device and a sharp suit.

Meeting in St. Mike's Court the glorious Umpire (may he be forever praised) (Hmm - not sure about that one - Umpire) explained the rules and starting positions and we proceeded to the Market Square for the throwing down of gauntlets. Much slapping of gloves in faces and bold challenges ensued. I and my fellow duelists picked starting positions from a hat and I was led away first to the basement of F staircase by my corner judge. (Necroneko!)

At the signal to begin I rushed to the outside door of C staircase as I knew that one of my competitors would have to walk past there. Hampered by my stupidly large array of weapons I was a little slow and only just caught a glimpse of Alex Churchill striding past. Fumbling for my CPS-1000 I burst out of the doorway intending to shoot him in the time honoured manner. (In the back) Unfortunately for me he was skilled in avoidance and only lost his left arm - dodging into D staircase. A brief exchange of fire occured until we both retreated. I then elected to take up position on the 1st floor of C where I was safe from rear attacks.

After a few minutes I heard noise in the basement, there was a shout of "Truce!" and the noise of someone ascending the stairs below. Silently I readied a rubber band gun and peeked over the bannister to be greeted with the sight of Tim Pike - drinking mulled wine?! Momentarily I stood confused, was the duel paused? Did the truce apply to me? Tim's vertical view was obscured by his large hat and his attention was entirely on his wine, so not wanting to miss this golden opportunity I blew his head off with four rapid shots. His body stood for a few moments, flask in hand, before crumpling to the ground. What a waste! What a calamity! The mulled wine had been spilled!

Alex Churchill came round the stairs soon after, had they been working together in some sort of unholy alliance? I let off my remaining rounds, but once again he darted out of the way. The Umpire then called a truce so we could be separated. We both reloaded guns and Alex got his arm back by some mystical healing power.

Upon restarting we both ran for the high platform near the doors of G and H staircases and once again I was too slow due to the weight of water I carried and my slight frame. I vanished into C staircase as Alex prepared to guard his position. Popping out of E via the basement we tested the range of our guns. With his height advantage he could shoot further, but I had plenty of time to dodge out of the way. A deadlock threatened. I left my weapons in a staircase and filled my pockets with grenades. These had the desired range but were far too slow in the air, enabling them to be dodged with ease. Nevertheless a couple of spectators were too slow and paid the ultimate price (Including the ghost of Tigger). I had a couple of close calls with faulty bombs which exploded soon after leaving my hand but by some miracle the shrapnel missed me and after a quick check for wounds by the Umpire I was pronounced healthy and continued.

Paper pellets were my next method of attack, these having the desired range but sadly not the accuracy. I tried taunting Alex into wasting his ammunition by dancing around just at the limit of his range but his supplies were too large. Attempts by me to ascend the platform by the other staircase were repelled with extreme prejudice and I only narrowly escaped with my life.

After about 45 minutes of this a deadlock was declared and an alternate form of duelling decided: Rubber band guns in the market square.

The spectators formed a ring and we began at the drop of a pocket handkerchief. Having fired all of our ammunition a clear shot had not occured due to high winds and fading light, so we moved on to the next form of duelling - lightsabers at dusk in the Market Square.

Using a red lightsaber kindly lent by Necroneko I went a few practice rounds with some watching Jedi Knights before testing my skills against the Master of the Force - The Light Side of the Masked Man. Round 1 - I cut off his leg Round 2 - He cut off my arm Round 3 - We simultaneously stabbed each other in the chest The Umpire healed these wounds and we went back to St. Mikes for the final form of combat - CPS-1000s on the high platform.

The duel started in the manner of the Old West, 10 paces, turn and fire. Once again Alex demonstrated his formidable dodging skills, with his back to the wall he leapt to the left, to the right and at one point even ran under my stream. Several more spectators lost their lives in this epic battle. Then a volley of shots tore into my right leg - severing it below the knee. From this point on my dodging was done with the power of the hop.
Sensing my weakness Alex came at me in a final charge, yelling war cries and firing wildly. But luck was with me that day, for as he got within range his gun gave a pathetic sputter as his ammunition ran out and he was bisected from waist to head by my return volley. Farewell to a valiant opponent after two hours of struggle encompassing many forms of combat.

The ghosts of Tigger and the Masked Man then decided that my suit looked far too dry and unleashed their remaining water over me.

May Week 1999:

I was kindly introduced to "Toby" by a friendly non-player. I brutally stabbed him in the heart after offering him a gelatinous confection - the conversation went something like "Help yourself to a jellybaby... oh, and help yourself to eternal oblivion as well. Or at least, 4 hours' oblivion."

Toby took his death remarkably well, it seemed, with the only show of displeasure an ominous look over my shoulder to my informant, with the words "I'll catch up with /you/ later..."

Kelpie killed Fred at 00:33:00 on Wednesday
Fred reports:

Ooops I'm dead, said Fred.

Turning up in Christ's College after a dinner party at which a couple of people had already been murdered (but all in the name of a good whodunnit...), I heard of "Fred"'s death, in the words "He died three hours and fifty-seven minutes ago. He may be reappearing soon!"

A disturbance was noted at the foot of the staircase, where a porter discovered a bloke hiding in the Ladies'. This turned out to be a zombie Fred, who denied being killed by a water jet from a piece of Lead Piping on the grounds that he "still had 30 seconds left." The company assembled assumed that he had fled, until an involved non-player spotted him hanging around through the window...

I decided to take the risk, and left the safety of sheer numbers to venture out after this foolhardy lone soldier. Unfortunately, wanting to take the imediate opportunity, I ventured out armed only with the weaponry in hand - three shurikens.

Spotting Fred through the open Christ's main gateway, I retreated inside college; my assailant followed brandishing a cap-gun, and we exchanged fire. Exactly what happened after that was a bit of a blur...

We later figured out that his cap-gun shot was out of range (by about a metre), but since my ninja throwing-star had sliced his gun arm off (but no more) this had no effect. However, these considerations were fairly academic given that assorted assassins had immediately run past me, these including --

*sounds of Hologram being elbowed away from typing range*
Oi, gerroff, it's my computer it's my keyboard it's my kill, I'm typing this bit!

OK, now /I/ have control.....
At about half past midnight, the Umpire vanished from the room from where we'd been plott- uh, I mean conversing. I wanted fun - I have had no kills so far - so I followed down the stairs to Christ's Great Gate. I saw Hologram running towards the small wooden gate and naturally followed, drawing my lightsabre. Outside, a heated argument was going on, but I wasted no time in trying to understand subtleties (wouldn't have made any difference at 12:30 am anyway) and I went straight for Fred. The porters came out at the sound of the characteristic crackle-hum of a lightsabre activating but it was too late for Fred. One mighty swing of the red blade had removed his head.

Fred was very annoyed to have been killed by the same lightsabre twice. At least it was my hands on the hilt this time....
=\///.-\/=

Vladimir Shothishedkleenoff killed Hologram at 23:59:59 on Wednesday
Hologram reports:

I was sitting watching Esca (see below). None of us had bothered locking the door. We paid for this. I paid first. You can guess the rest *sigh* *grin*

(For those who haven't noticed the way this game's gone: Overkill flung the door open and shot at me... On this occasion it was with some vaguely space-age-looking projectile weapon. The projectile that I happened to get in the way of can be reclaimed from my room in Robinson - as long as you come and get it before 1pm Thursday, Ed... *gr0wl*)

We arrived at Robinson having managed to avoid manic cyclists, and proceeded to the NFG's room (identifiable by strange noises coming from within. Egads.). Vladimir went first, diving through the door and hitting the Hologram in the back.

I burst in and saw 4 murderers and Umpire. Therefore I shot Hologram with Eagleeye dartgun in the back,
knifed Kelpie in the back,
threw my knife at Puma
and then wasted the guy who charged through the balcony with green shrapnel, possibly losing an arm in the process.
However: Puma survived and NFG is disputing the order of events in the last bit of the fight.
Meanwhile Bob had gassed the room and Puma shot at him.

This put my body count to about 33

*psychotic interlude*
PERMIT ME TO QUOTE SOME GRANTHAM
"I KILLED SO MANY PEOPLE I LOST COUNT"
* *

Vladimir Shothishedkleenoff killed Kelpie at 00:00:00 on Thursday
Kelpie reports:

I was sitting in the room of a friend in Robinson peacably watching Tenkuu no Escaflowne. After repeated warnings to lock his door, this person had - unfortunately - not complied. Neither had any of us had the energy to bother to get up and lock it ourselves. So when I heard the door burst open, and a bullet go whining over my head, I didn't bother reaching for my lightsabre or knife. I felt the knife plunge deep into my back and smelt the gas in the room. I have to say that we deserved it *sigh*

Garrett, we will have to watch Esca with the most vile smell in the history of mankind invading the room. This is an offence punishable by death. Maybe not this term or this year, maybe not by lightsabre, crossbow or dagger, but it will come. You have been warned...

(Besides, I like killing Garrett...)

Kelpie died next, a knife embedded between her shoulders. A muffled curse then went up as the knife went on to embed itself in the Puma's hand...

Friendly Bob mashed a non-player at 00:00:01 on Thursday
No sooner had Overkill backed out the door at the sight of lightsabres humming into action than Friendly Bob inserted a hand into the room. A hand with a poison gas canister, which he proceeded to spray around the room, killing a poor innocent and making an amusing attempt on the Umpire. - Umpire.
Friendly Bob reports:

As Vladimir retreated, I moved in to clean up those who had survived. Poison gas filled the room, failing to kill the Puma again (he produced a gas mask with such haste he must have almost known what was going to happen. Curse his luck) and failing to kill the umpire on the grounds that he's immortal. Sadly, the NFG had already left for the balcony...

Umpire tried to kill Friendly Bob at 00:00:05 on Thursday
It took three seconds to chase Friendly Bob down the stairs, and one second to charge up the fingers for the lightning bolt, which flashed from the Umpire's fingers and incinerated the Garrett in a big flash. But then I thought - he doesn't really deserve to be on the receiving end of the Finger Of Death (tm). - Umpire.

Vladimir Shothishedkleenoff tried to kill NFG at 00:00:30 on Thursday
NFG reports:

Engrossed in Esca, I was startled by a sudden commotion behind my back. Turning round, I saw Vladimir's retreating head, closely followed by a hand holding a can of poison gas. I dashed out of the open French window, grabbing a lightsabre on my way, and went around the outside to try and catch the killers from behind. Unfortunately, Vladimir saw me coming; the bullet hit me just as my lightsabre plunged into his side. The Umpire's decision is awaited.

How on Earth did I come out of that alive? An incompetently thrown knife injured my hand but failed to do me mortal harm, and I managed to whip out a gas mask at the sight of the gas canister. However, the only target I managed to hit was the charred remains of Friendly Bob - the Umpire got there first. Foolhardy as it might be to say it, come and get me next time...

Yes, I am entirely insane btw.

I managed to shout a warning to Vladimir just as NFG reappeared from behind - a lightsabre sliced into the Russian's arm at around the same instant as green balls embedded themselves into NFG's chest.

Upon escaping outside, the Puma failed to hit me with the small pistol that had miraculously failed to injure me on Tuesday and the Kelpie insulted me again. This seems to be a recurring theme, and as such I'm greatly disappointed she didn't recognise me earlier in the week. The Puma vanished into the darkness, avoiding the death that had beset his fellows.

Lent 1999:

This report from the Hologram:

Fri 22 Jan 99:

Another failed poison letter... What is it with these assassins nowadays... Nobody wants glorious kills anymore... How boring.

Michaelmas 1998:

And more deaths :)

The Hologram is pleased to report 2 successful kills between the hours of 1730 and 1815 today...

First a visit was paid to one Adam Penny of Selwyn. This encounter featured once again the cry of the terminally suicidal, "Come in - the door's open!" Hologram and accomplice proceeded to do so: accomplice distracted Mr Penny and then stood well clear of the heavy-calibre crossbow bolt, which sped with pinpoint accuracy through the centre of said Mr Penny's chest, whistling away from Hologram's rapidly advancing form through the door.

The deadly duo then moved on to Queens' College, where one George Danezis proved somewhat more cautious, and definitely not "Dun-eazi". The same ploy was used, but Mr Danezis' reflexes were impressive: the second the crossbow-toting figure of Hologram darted round the doorpost, he ducked behind his door. However, we did not immediately depart the scene of the crime, hoping for the curiosity that killed more than just the cat...

Sure enough, a minute or two later the door creaked open again. Danezis' head poked round to look for his would-be killers, but the shuriken immediately flying from the Hologram's hand impacted off the door-post millimetres from the target's face, which (unsurprisingly) vanished once more.

With the persistence of total boredom, we still didn't depart, and with fruitful results. Death threats were about to be written on the noticeboard outside the victim's door, but (presumably hearing motion outside) the ill-fated Mr Danezis reappeared once more, clutching a canister of poison gas and looking jumpy enough to use it. Fortunately, three more shurikens hurtled towards him and sliced his side before he could kill all present in a senseless act of suicidal frenzy (for he bore no gas-mask...)

Once the stains had been cleared from the (now sadly unneeded) message-board and the crossbow bolt reclaimed from the recently vacated room, the deadly pair walked away, savouring the triumph of two expertly executed dispatches, with only one problem remaining: how to find the way out of Queens'?

(victim's report edited to protect the Hologram's most devious strategies)

I was planing my assasinations when sudenly somebody knocked on my door. My paranoid nature made me ask who it is, as in parallel I was taking my 'POLO' botle of poison on the right hand (the one with the short range) the monster, a huge man that, for sure, returned from hell (well in fact he was a nice guy but he is my killer after all, so I can add some stuff) just to take me back with him, appeared with a 4 inche Bow In his hand. And I could recognise it: It was the same that killed achile in the trojan war, the same that killed El Sid, the same that killed John Wane in many of his films... my spirit will always haunt them... agh............a....a....

Sunday 18th

Hologram is dead, from a lack of paranoia and over-fondness for shurikens...

I am pleased to report my first successful kill. Having cunningly discovered my targets room by reading my target list, I gained access by the equally devious method of knocking. I realised that I could have aroused his suspicions when he hid behind the door and threw a shuriken at me, luckily it missed and I was able to finish him with a single point blank pistol shot to the chest.

Yours, The Ominous Pseudonym

Likewise, the Fitz Defense Infrastructure caused two more coppers to die:

At around 4.40, there was a knock on the door. Shortly afterwards, a mysterious lady lured the characters onto the stairwell, allowing me to sneak out and score a direct hit with a paper pellet on the nose of PC Hologram, who died graciously. I then waited, until PC Puma re-emerged from the bottom of the stairwell, with a water pistol. Whilst he was still attempting to obtain a clear shot, I fired several more pellets, eventually hitting him on the top of the head with my last pellet.

There was however a price: WPC Emma Bennett of Fitz is now Wanted for Corruption.

Oi, they're GOOD PLAYERS you silly penguins... Use decent tactics and equipment or they'll win easily

Lent 1998:

... In spite of this impressive display of fear, surprise and ruthless efficiency the crime rate continued to rise when Alex Churchill (aka Hologram) attempted to kill Susan. The shot was deadly and on target, but unfortunately not on the correct target, and another innocent bites the dust. This report in from hologram himself...

Pleased to report my first kill! - ********* of Trinity is no more...
It was a fairly straightforward affair. Having just attended a talk organised by the movement codenamed "Paradigm Shift", and in fact wearing a T-shift sporting the ubiquitous pS logo, my cover was perfect. I approached *****'s door; hearing loud "retro" music booming from within, I was sure that at last my quarry's time had come. I knocked...
A voice called from within, "Come in." So I did.
I introduced myself as involved with Paradigm Shift (true as far as it went), then asked: "Have you every thought about what's going to happen when you die?" ... <bringing out my miniature rocket launcher> "Because it might happed sooner than you think." BANG. The tiny shell fired from its home, blasting a large hole in the sofa on which ***** had been unsuspectingly reclining. And thus ended the ballad of *****.
I hungrily await a new target, to speed to meet our Creator.

Umpire's note - names have been changed to protect what passes for the innocent...

However, as was said earlier, this was not the real Susan, as this comunication clearly indicates....

Hello,
Excuse me if this note is a little incoherent but I have just witnessed the brutal and senseless slaughter of a close friend of mine. There we were, quietly sitting and doing our work like good little students, when a be-Paradigm Shifted person entered our room, and, after some preliminary conversation about eternal salvation, proceeded to demonstrate to my friend what it looks like close up (although knowing my friend as I do it's not likely to be slavation that he becomes acquainted with).
This is most distressing as it will take the bedder forever to get the bloodstains of the sofa and my best throw is RUINED.
An innocent bystander has been killed! Susan cries out for vengeance!

...and the response, the next day...

The rampaging Susan dealt a blow for the law with the death of the criminal Hologram...

...and as I write this, the more important business of vengeance has been taken care of. Hologram lies slumped over his computer in the Robinson computer room, regretting finally his brutal murder of an innocent.
The same poison that took care of Ms Bebbington has been the instrument of justice of the sweetest kind. His desultory attempts to been incapacitated before he could carry through his plot of spraying me with acid. Susan laughs triumphantly!!!!!
Ahahahahahaha!!!!!!!!!

Ahem. As a warning to those inclined to bend the law here and there, here is a posthumous testimony from the Hologram, given by this weird figure projecting itself from the mouth of his fallen corpse....

It appears that I wasn't even killed by one of my assassins, but rather my target - "apparently" I killed the wrong person on the occasion when I believed I had eliminated X. (If one of them answers to the name "X", what am I supposed to think?)
I arrived in the Robinson Computer room (where, of course, any number of my associates would have been able to tell 'Susan' (?!) that I would be bound to appear at least three times a day. I took no notice of the several unrecognised faces in the room: this proved to be my undoing, when a poisoned dart flew from point-blank range into my protective coat. Although I tried to spray my acid into my assailant's face, I wasn't fast enough...

The Monk went to meet his maker, dying from an absence of paranoia ( a common cause of death at this time of year ). His departing spirit appeared to me (or maybe it was just too much caffeine) and gave me the following message :

I felt my life was too boring, as noone had attempted to kill me for ages, so I set out on a killing spree. So I killed three inocent looking people as they left after a hard session of backstabbing classes. Unfortunately, though I got two before my ammo ran out (though I tried to hold my gun and say bang convincingly), the third turned out to be a policeman. I put my gun away and tried to act casually, knowing I was not yet a member of the 'wanted' list. He however shot me saying that I would be. I was heeply hurt, a policeman who was supposed to be protecting the public murdering a person not as yet proven guilty. I call for his immediate suspension, as he is a threat to their noble calling.

Sebi (The Monk)

A more conventionally delivered report appeared slightly later, from the newly uniformed hologram....

I am pleased to report my first kill as a member of the Cambridge Police Force. The story follows...

Place: Diplomacy Society Meeting, Clare Buttery
Time: 8:00 - 11:10
Dramatis Personae:

• Two Experienced Assassins - one a policeman (myself), the other not in this term's game (or is he?)
• One Inexperienced Assassin (The Monk)

Plot: At the DipSoc meeting, the Inexperienced Assassin discusses with the Experienced Assassins whether or not weapons will function at official Society Meetings, and then suggests the possibility of killing someone immediately outside of one. He then gets completely wiped out in Diplomacy, but rather than leaving early, for some strange reason hangs around...

Upon leaving, the Inexperienced Assassin confirms the suspicions of the (Relatively) Experienced Assassins by drawing a handgun and first firing several shots at one of them (who claimed in his death throes to be completely uninvolved with this term's Guild and therefore an innocent bystander), then attempting to shoot at the other E.A. (your narrator), but runs out of ammo. The Hologram punishes this incompetence by drawing his Acid-String and mercilessly firing a caustic spray of steaming red acid at the Monk's face, who collapses on the floor, limbs twitching as his head dissolves. Disturbed by the two bloody corpses on the floor, the Hologram leaves the scene and has nightmares that night..

Note - you may kill someone if you've got a good reason to believe that they are going to kill you. The above case is a good example of this kind of thing

Michaelmas 1997:

The Hologram was today approached by two suspicious characters pretending to be his assassins. It appears that they were in fact PC George and an innocent bystander, but if you're going to pretend to be someone's assassin you deserve all you get... PC George survived, but may face disciplinary action from the police force for a rather dubious mission.

Or, in the words of the Hologram:

"On engaging them in idle chitchat it soon became apparent that they were trying to kill me. Not wishing to kill a mere bystander, I drew my jet-propelled Acid-String, but nobly ran for more discerning cover amidst the maze of balconies and staircases that is Robinson College, so that I might have a chance to identify which one was my assassin.

They gave pursuit. In a daring night-time rooftop chase, we played cat-and-mouse in doorways, until one of them foolishly ran into full view. I let rip with a full blast from my can - as he dissolved, he screamed in agony that I had killed an innocent victim, and that PC George would be after me. Cursing my trigger finger, I determined that the heartless murderer who'd sent his friend to die in his stead would not go unpunished.

With my well-practiced supernatural eye, from a balcony I observed him enquiring my whereabouts of his friend's ghost, down on the ground floor. I foolishly revealed my location by shooting at them from above, but my can was low on ammo and the hissing burst of red poison fell short. The remaining killer drew an impressive police-issue silvered handgun and set off in pursuit of me.

We stalked each other across the dark walkways. I managed to get behind him, but as I went to shoot him my traitorous weapon ran out of ammunition and released what little remained in a searing spray over my right hand. Containing the agony of my dissolving appendage with an act of immense willpower, I drew my backup weapon - poison darts from my breast pocket - with my remaining hand.

But it was to no avail. I chased my assailant (who claimed to be PC George) further, but he refused to come close enough to let me finish him off. In the end, in a fit of cowardice he turned tail and fled out of the Porters' Lodge main door. Not having any long-distance weapon, I decided against giving chase to try to rid Cambridge of such a careless killer / lawman."

OCTOBER 31ST

It was a cold and dark halloween evening, and the Umpire was sitting, spiderlike, in front of a dimly glowing computer screen...

It might even have been a dark and stormy night. You can always pretend. As is appropriate for the time of year, anyhow, there was a great deal of blood and gore on the streets of Cambridge today. Some of it frozen.

The Hologram faded out once and for all this morning, only to be replaced by PC Hologram, who was able to give us this report of his death...

"There's not much to tell really. Casually strolling (I should have known better) into the renowned killing grounds that is the environs of the Cockroft Lecture Theatre, arm in arm with my true girlfriend (the one I phoned on Monday means nothing to me)... I was laughing at a private joke, when I felt cool metal bury itself in my shoulder. Turning, I just had time to see an unknown assassin stabbing me repeatedly, first in the arm and then in the chest.

The hordes of passing Mathmos were mostly in a zombie-like state from the effects of a lecture by Dr Carne, and so mostly are unlikely to have witnessed anything.

However, before I was led away by corruscating angels of light, I saw my unknown killer walk up to my nemesis PC George, standing in the background, and thank him for doing a good job.

The police force seem singularly unpeturbed by PC George's off-duty role as mafia assistant. When asked about it, a senior police officer commented 'Well, everyone's got to have a hobby - stamp collecting, knitting, mass murder... I myself am very fond of sheep' before being carried away.