Closing in on the Kill

Just spotted a suspicious looking person wearing shades and a trench coat hiding out behind Sever with what looked like a gun? Or someone crouching in the bushes of Quincy courtyard clasping a giant foam noodle? No need to get weirded out and call HUPD—FlyBy assures you (with reasonable certainty) that these people aren’t hitmen or lunatics, but are simply engaged in the game of Assassins.

Spring marks the time when various Houses launch Assassins, casting a pall of paranoia over the entire campus. So what can we expect to see, besides shady characters, broken friendships, and a dip in grades? Get a house-by-house breakdown after the jump.

Leverett

Leverett’s game of Survivor—so dubbed supposedly due the House Master’s disapproval of the violent undertones of “Assassins”—began Monday at 8 a.m. and is being carried out in true Rabbit-style.

To eliminate their targets, students have to either poke them with a cardboard carrot measuring at least 8 inches, or pour hot sauce or vinegar into their target’s food without their noticing (ouch!), according to an e-mail from the Leverett HoCo social chairs.

Leverett also considers students safe “while actively drinking a green drink or eating broccoli.” Given the choice between imbibing PowerAde mixed with orange juice or death by carrot stab, though, FlyBy isn’t so sure if survival is preferable.

Conversations with Leverett residents reveal that a murderous spirit has already erupted.

“My target is actually my roommate,” Sam T. Steyer ’11 said before whipping around in his chair to peer around the dining hall for signs of said person. “But I plan to kill him today, so you can print this.”

Quincy

The intensity of Quincy’s “Assassins 009,” which began yesterday at midnight, is evident from a glance at its elaborate Web site, complete with rules, agents, “kill tallies,” and even a rumor board with tips about hiding locations and spottings.

In true People’s House-fashion, Quincy’s game isn’t pitting individual students against one another, but rather is assigning units of six students to target other units using foam objects—Nerf guns, pool noodles, foam fingers, and even yoga mats.

“I’ve just been sitting by my window all day to see if there were people I could shoot,” said Lizzie M. Moore ’09. “Academics have definitely suffered.”

Students won’t be able to avoid the d-hall in an attempt to stay alive—one of the central rules is that everyone has to attend one meal every day in Quincy.

The unabashed get an advantage in Quincy's Assassins game, thanks to a “Naked Rule” granting students who forego clothing immunity from elimination. That is, unless their shooter is naked, too.

Mather

Mather played Assassins during Reading Period in January, and with safe locations including the dining hall and house library, FlyBy initially expected the game to have dragged on for a while. Not so, however: a rule stating that participants had to kill their targets by midnight meant that the over 100 participants whittled down to merely a handful in only three days.

The final kill was “epic,” recounts winner Saul U. Gorman '09. After waiting over an hour outside his target’s locked door, Gorman finally managed to shoot a bullet from his dart gun through the narrow gap between the door and the carpet, hitting his unsuspecting victim's foot and earning eternal glory. Now that’s a true assassin.

Adams

If you've recently noticed spoons going missing from your dining hall or friends from Adams sweltering in their multiple layers and ski hats, look no further than Assassins for explanation. In Adams' game, eliminations occur by touching the target’s exposed skin or hair with a spoon.

Since Assassins began in Adams last Monday, FlyBy has been hearing sporadic cries of murderous assault emitting from the stately brick edifice. Well, not really, but the rules, which state that Assassins is meant to be “exciting, active, and paranoia-inducing,” certainly encouraged a spirit of merciless distrust.

A report of killings from Assassins coordinator William M. Skinner '09 reveals numerous tales of betrayal, teamwork, schedule-memorizing, faux ice cream dates, and over-dressing. “There was a lot of heartbreak,” says Skinner. “But I hope everyone’s patched it up by now.” But expect more heartbreak to come: as of today, a handful of students still remain in the game.

Eliot

Eliot House’s Assassins took place during Reading Period in January, the chilly landscape mirroring the icy, murderous hearts of its players. Assassins from Eliot certainly had the most number of choices for their method of elimination: weapons included water guns, water balloons, sharpies, and cardboard swords. Killings could also be accomplished via poisoning the target with Tabasco sauce or taping a note marked “pwnd” to the target’s body.

In a listing of death's on the game's Web site, Alexandra P. Greenfield '09 recounts her elimination of Tyler Caldwell '11:

“I was studying when spotted Tyler in the library. [sic] I waited, followed him out as he left, asked him what time it was, and shouted ‘Time to die!’ as I stabbed him with a sword crafted from a box of NutterButters.”

Pwnd, indeed.

Currier

Assassins hasn’t begun yet in Currier, but residents are already hoarding food in anticipation of dining hall avoidance. FlyBy might also recommend dressing down for a while, as water pistols are the weapon of choice, and the “target must be hit with water before they see the weapon,” according to last year’s rules.

Though instructions from last year say that tiffs and unsportsmanlike behavior are frowned upon, since Assassins “is intended to foster Currier House community,” FlyBy can already anticipate the mayhem that will soon consume the Quad. Pride and honor aren't the only things at stake—last year, $250 in prizes were given out.

"It'll be fun," says Aaron C. Fallon '09 '11. For a game that centers around killing and being killed, this just reaffirms the fact that Harvard students certainly have their own idea of what constitutes fun.

Photo: Wikimedia Commons/Hasbro