Cry Wolf: Day Two

[volginswaifu.livejournal.com]

[That familiar large TV flicks on to reveal a long table filled to the brim with fancy dishes, silverware, decorations, but not a single person in sight. Well, except for Ivan. He's currently gorging himself on some kind of meat and rice dish. After a few seconds of him eating, the Soviet swallows and wipes his face with an embroidered napkin, smiling up at the camera.]

Welcome back to day two~ I was just enjoying some lamb. Oh! Speaking of lambs...

[His tone turns dark, but amused as he leans his elbows on the table.] One of you has been picked off by the wolves, I think he goes by...Big Boss?

[Chuckles, placing his cheek in his palm.] And as for the young boy, Chico, well...he's been voted off. How cruel...

[Taking a gulp of wine.] You have 27 hours. Why the extra three? Who cares. I'll come back around halfway through the day to give you your clue.

[Ivan, out!]
[Poll #1784285]

((ooc: Due to LJ's 3-hour maintenance on the 5th, the post will have 27 hours. It'll end at 9:00 PM EST.
Or not, because I suck at time conversions and maintenance starts at 6:30 pm EST. But you guys can have the extra 30-minutes anyway~))

((CLUE IS UP! And it's been SOLVED!))

Comments

[neurotic-insect.livejournal.com]

Oh my god.

[Looking at the list wasn't very comforting. Big Boss was a sheep. Chico was very likely one too...]

We're down to seven heads. If anyone wants to confess, now is your chance.

[colonelcrotchgrab]

[Volgin's tone is flat:]

The old bastard was asking for it, whoever he was.

[neurotic-insect.livejournal.com]

You probably know him better as Naked Snake.

[He had his hands on his hips, tapping on hip agitatedly.]

[leashedliquid.livejournal.com]

[Liquid isn't mourning much.] I doubt anyone's going to have a crisis of conscience and throw themselves on our mercy. Things are going perfectly well for them. Two are gone, though neither are any great loss, and we're no closer to an answer than we were yesterday.

[he gives Mantis a sharp glance.]

Unless you have any ideas...

[neurotic-insect.livejournal.com]

Hmm... Big Boss was obviously a sheep, which means Chico could have gone either way. The first clue was about how the most docile person might be the most dangerous in the game, but since none of us can confess the role we're playing, we can only make educated guests. Assuming Chico wasn't a wolf, we're still five sheep to two wolves.

[He finds a marker on the floor and pops the cap off.] Follow me. I want to see if this line of logic makes sense to you. (http://neurotic-insect.livejournal.com/5304.html)

[fancy-shooting.livejournal.com]

Big--...

...

[colonelcrotchgrab]

[Puff. Volgin idly strolls right on by.]

So your preferences have leaned towards older tastes these days?

[Yeah, he has no idea who "Big Boss" is.

... And he was pretty irritating.]

[neurotic-insect.livejournal.com]

At least he's not trapped here with the rest of us.

[lasingingbird.livejournal.com]

[Hi, guess who's recovered? And such a pity. Or is it? She's not fond of Chico after all.]

[colonelcrotchgrab]

If I had a drink with me on the day I'd agree with a conscious tape recorder.

[leashedliquid.livejournal.com]

[Liquid wonders if the robot is even capable of telling a direct lie. It's worth an experiment.]

Are you one of the wolves, TJ-Chrysalis?

[leashedliquid.livejournal.com]

[Liquid lets out a harsh bark of laughter when he hears Big Boss's name.]

The first lamb to the slaughter is the great leader himself. How he must hate that.

[His expression sobers]

Loath as I am to admit it, if the wolves chose him, it must be for a reason. He must have posed a threat. Did he catch a hint of the right trail?

[fancy-shooting.livejournal.com]

...He told me of a few suspicions he had.

[colonelcrotchgrab]

He was an irritant.

[Volgin chewed on the end of his cigar, remembering this man gawking at him. While he never knew this "Big Boss" and whatever else of him, he had met a Liquid Snake before. Wonder if this was the same one?]

Humor me, this "great leader" only offered me puerile insults.

[otakuthropy.livejournal.com]

Sheesh...

Wait, so do we get to know if Chico was a wolf or not?

[neurotic-insect.livejournal.com]

Not by a long shot. This kind of game is never that easy.

[leashedliquid.livejournal.com]

Don't waste your pity. Child soldiers are no innocents. [Liquid would know.]

[butthurtsleeper.livejournal.com]

"Big Boss"...? [But that almost sounds like...]

[..Eh; probably just a coincidence.]

[Anyway- it's a shame the old guy had to go. There was something interesting about him.]

[leashedliquid.livejournal.com]

You must have heard of the famous hero. [While the bespectacled man had proved savvier than he looked yesterday, he said the title as though it was something he'd never heard before.]

CLUE TIME!

[volginswaifu.livejournal.com]

[The feed comes from inside a very garnished bathroom now, and Ivan looks a little seasick.]

...Okay. [Activity...he needs to think of an activity.]

You want a clue...? Take something off. [Wags a finger.] And make it good!

[He slowly sinks back off-screen.]

[fancy-shooting.livejournal.com]

...Major.

[He stares at the TV a moment. Then peels a glove off, looking like he wants to slap Raikov with it.]

[neurotic-insect.livejournal.com]

[Raising his brow, Dimitri lied down on his stomach, rolling his hips so he could swing both legs over his own head. In this position, he removed one of his shoes, blindly undoing the laces by hand before dangling it by the string where Raikov could see.]

This better be worth the effort.

[colonelcrotchgrab]

[Oh.

Not that Volgin could recognize seasickness. He could see that Raikov was in his element.

Of course.]

...

[And so, he give the television a sour look for some time, ignoring whatever buds of concern at seeing his Ivan in pain. When he could, he stood foremost at the TV, giving Raikov the fullest of his attention.

And, with little prompting, he slid off the sweater, revealing the clashing ridiculousness of the red shoulder-gloves and the more practical and improved smoothness of the black insulation. The gloves' ribbing distorted the visible shape of his arms, but the tautness of the dark material hugging his torso left very little to the imagination. Volgin still looked rather stellar for a man of his age, a pleasant side-effect of his altered metabolism.

The sweater was dropped to the floor.

Volgin crossed his arms.]

[otakuthropy.livejournal.com]

[HAHA Otacon didn't have to get undressed for the clue.]

"Wool off the old sheep makes another sheep"

[It was obviously a complex metaphor... Otacon is screwed.]

[volginswaifu.livejournal.com]

[A couple TVs hover near Otacon, as if taunting him.]