ioculus | //TESTDRIVE15.EXE

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!test drive

//TESTDRIVE15.EXE

//testdrive15.EXE

The clock strikes twelve. The gong of the grandfather clock in the foyer tolls out the time in slightly unnecessarily obnoxious loud noises. The ambiance of this old mansion demands respect, care, awe --

Okay, no, wait, why are you even in this stupid dusty house?

No reasons are forthcoming, because everyone knows that people just end up in places like this sometimes. That's just how the narrative device works. The hows and the whys don't matter -- all that matters is that you're all here, so you'd better get cracking and start exploring, because it's not like you can leave yet.

Or ever, maybe.

Good day, sirs and madams. Might I interest you in a nice glass of blood...y mary?

//SCENARIOS.EXE

PHASE I

[ 0215 ] All you see is white. The crash of thunder hits your ears next, punctuated by the piercing pitch of white noise in the background. After a few blinks, your vision comes back to you. Oh good, glad that you’ve joined us in the land of the living. Unlike the nondescript corpse at your feet – it looks like… a butler? Oh dear. You’ve already killed Murder Suspect Number One in most situations. How terribly ironic.

After all, who could’ve killed him but you? You might not remember, but there is definitely a murder weapon in your hand. It’s probably a knife or a poisoned glass of wine or-

Wait, is that a toaster? A full on toaster? Or maybe it’s a taser. Maybe you bludgeoned this poor guy with an entire encyclopedia. Either way, it looks like your murder weapon is a little unconventional, whether it’s a stranger’s pair of underwear or a hair curler. Are you really supposed to believe you committed a murder with these? (Yes.)

That said in the next second the double doors will be opening up. It’s pretty clear you’re not alone. Think quick!

PHASE II

[ 0600 ] Exploring more around the compound, you’ll find plenty of those tall, oil portraits of people hung around the walls. When you start walking, they’re all strangers. However by the time that you feel like you’re wandering around for an hour, two hours, they might start looking a little bit more… familiar? Mom? Is that you?

You don’t have time to think about that, though. You were clearly framed! You don't’ have a motive for killing some random NPC –

“Or do you?” a portrait will ask.

Oh. Holy shit. Well it’d just be rude to leave, right? Whether you stick around for conversation or not, you’ll find that was just the beginning. The portraits are going to start grilling you. Welcome to CERES Central’s Roast of You. What was your motive? Don’t you know you should respect the servants? How would you feel if you were caught like that? Careful turning your back on them though, because if you ignore them for too long, the subjects in the portraits may just reach out and snatch you to join them in their portrait world.

At that point, the only way to get out is to swap places with some other poor, unsuspecting soul wandering around.

PHASE III

[ 1045 ] You know what makes me hungry? Murder.

What’s the point of making a mansion this big anyway? Who’s even here? Either way, whether you’re looking for the kitchen to make a fine post-homicide sandwich or just trying to escape, you’ll eventually make it to a stairwell. The most finicky stairwell ever. Is that a trail of bloody footprints leading up the steps? What? No. Stop it, just climb.

Or well – don’t climb too quickly now. The staircases apparently have a mind of their own, swapping from one doorway to another. You definitely haven’t seen this before. It would seem that these stairs might even be interested in keeping you in a circle forever, no concern for whether or not you’re hungry or, god forbid, need to use the restroom.

However the portraits in the stairwell will provide a little tip: “The stairs are gossips, you know. Why don’t you tell us a little something about yourself? Make it good!”

Weirdly enough, sound advice – that is, if you’re interested in shouting out your most embarrassing secrets into the void so a mansion can keep talking shit about you. Oh well. Your alternative is just being a stair golem. There are worse fates.

PHASE IV

[ 1430 ] This hall is oddly quiet.

Well, until you hear it – the soft sniffles coming from down the hall, the broken sobs. It sounds like someone’s crying. For one reason or another, your footsteps take you forward – there’s really no point in going back now after all, right? Yet as you continue to walk… walk… walk… the crying becomes louder and louder. More desperate, more despaired. In time, it’s clear that this person is wailing, screaming, “How could this happen?!”

Within the span of a breath, all the lights in the hallway go out, leaving you in pitch black.

It occurs to you then that you hear a second set of steps. When did you stop walking? A cold chill runs down your spine and you find yourself running then, despite the fact that it feels like this pitch black hallway goes on forever. The other footsteps pick up, remind you that you’re not alone. No, certainly not.

Best hope that you find some assistance soon – otherwise it looks like the Butler Association is going to ignite some righteous vigilante justice on your ass.

BONUS

[ why o'clock ] You’re in the grand ballroom now, ready to present your case. Armed with a cob pipe (don’t smoke inside, it’s rude), a detective hat, and a single spotlight aimed right at you, you now have to explain how you came to the conclusion about the True Killer that is Obviously Not You. Rather, it’ll just be the character of whoever tags into this prompt – yes, you are suddenly so very sure that they’re the ones who are the ultimate mastermind of this entire game and… you’re just going to have to bullshit the reason why even if you know virtually nothing about them. It’s a dog eat dog world out there, you know?

Sorry about that.

Should you actually provide enough of a compelling case or they take pity on you, having a villainous breakdown for the sake of the plot, you’ll be awarded with a coupon that’ll give you three free scoops at your local ice cream parlor! (Note: you must buy the first two scoops in order to qualify.) Of course, if you’re not able to nail them down as the killer, you are obviously the killer yourself (citation needed).

From there, you’ll be dragged off to face your punishment: for six grueling hours you will be tickled mercilessly.

[ Remember to apply proper warnings on threads with sensitive or inappropriate material and do let a mod know if your thread careens off into maiming or canoodling so we can lock the log. ]

//RUN.EXE

Welcome to Cerealia's fifteenth Test Drive Meme. For your convenience, we have compiled a post detailing everyone's arrival experience and a FAQ that should explain everything in more detail. Please read them thoroughly before playing. Thank you!

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[ Chihiro hadn't managed to turn her head when she heard someone speak, feeling it was as likely another portrait had decided to join in on the commentary they seemed to favour. (How was it the stairs preferred gossip, again?) It wasn't until he'd taken his flying leap from the folding stairs onto the ones going for the world's most awkward barrel roll that she saw him; even then, Chihiro wasn't quite sure what she was seeing.

She was still not fully looking at him when he mentioned how unsurprised he was. Instead, she was hooking a leg over the rail and shifting her deathgrip until she was fairly sure she'd survive a roll like this if necessary. Which is when she looked at her erstwhile companion, stubble, dual swords, complete lack of surprise in his expression, and one sad piece of lettuce leaning away from the sandwich clutched in his hand. Even as she's watching, it falls free, sailing smoothly past to land on the stairs in a sad, green plop.

Then it slid down a stair.

And another.

Caught up in the same rotation, only taking it as aleafly as it could. ]

Don't ghosts &mdash ngh — float?

[ Chihiro had no idea what he was talking about in particular, considering the only victim any of the portraits seemed interested in was the poor unfortunate, unremarkable somebody who'd been dead in a room she'd left behind ages ago. The portrait who'd been rating her earlier had changed out their signs: it now read, ""7.5/10 for Style. Is that a BLT?" ]

Um... how long have you been stuck on the stairs, sir?

[ All asked as she finally swings herself over the side of the railing to where it becomes easier to keep moving and likewise keep balanced while the stairs continue their ill-fated roll. She has an eye out for any other staircase moving in closer. For the moment, none are in what she'd consider jumping range, but that might change.

She has no idea if houses feel boredom. Then again, she has yet to meet a sentient house, but considering what else is out there, and the chattiness of the portraits on the walls, it might be possible. Chihiro was still more determined to get out of the weird hall-stairs than figure out the potential nuances to the reasoning behind this chaos. ]

PHASE III

[Kara is already Done With This.]

Okay, whoever's listening, where should I even begin? There was the time I almost cheated on my late fiancé with his brother.

[Nope, the spinning hasn't stopped. Okay, obviously something else needs to be done. Or confessed. Or whatever the hell is going on]

Uh...I'm dead? Or, I was. How's that for gossip?

Edited 2016-07-01 06:26 (UTC)

Huh? Oh, thanks.

[Karl, on his part, while proud of his abilities, isn't thinking about how good he might be vs. his companion here because he wouldn't like to assume, except that's a moot point because he's not even thinking about competing with Tachikawa at all.]

... Find out yourself? I'm not gonna shoot it at you again, if that's what you mean...

...you really think those count as good secrets, guy?

[Kara cocks an eyebrow, glances around]

Not that I know of with the kids. But if I'm wrong you better warn me first.

Edited 2016-07-01 06:25 (UTC)

[Alain takes a moment to listen, noting Steven's change in tone. It was almost like Steven was speaking from experience. But he won't dig too deeply. Not when it was clearly something that the other didn't want to discuss.]

I understand. I'll take your word for it and be cautious.

[As if he hadn't already taken precautions here. It was common sense to do that in a place you were completely unfamiliar with.]

Point me in the right direction? If that isn't too much to ask.

[ the sad, green plop is actually more pressing than the slow rotation of this alien staircase, and kei has to take a moment to morph his expression from curious interest to a mournful 'o' as he stretches a hand out towards his wayward piece of veggie. his lettuce...! everyone knows that a sandwich has to have a good proportion of lettuce...! the house has claimed another victim, and kei is to suffer for it. if he had the capability of crying just a single tear, this would have been a good moment for it.

but ultimately, the twenty-year-old man's pouting over his lost lettuce is interrupted by the little girl's quiet confusion. actually, shouldn't he be helping her...? the trained part of kei, otherwise known as the not-stupid part of kei that had been beaten into him to keep him from being a total mess outside of the battlefield, is singing out something that sounds vaguely like 'gotta help the civilian!!', but the less trained, far more ten-year-old part of kei just briefly wonders if civilian-ship included things like small ghost girls. are they in the same category? is he obligated to help a ghost? and that-- is actually a very good question. he blinks, and takes a thoughtful bite of his sandwich. the lettuce crunches noisily as he thinks, or attempts to think, which, in the end, pretty much amounts to the same thing. ]

Hmm... I don't know. Do you? [ though clinging off of a rotating railing, in kei's book, is not strictly floating. he consults his knowledge of horror games that he'd played (read: been forced to play). did that blond chick in that museum game float? what about that camera chick from that photo-taking game? why were all ghosts chicks, anyway? ] Oh, uh, I just got here, actually. It seems fun. What are you trying to do, exactly?

[ climb up? down? ... do ghosts even need to climb stairs? maybe he should go back and ask izumi. just then, his eye catches the flip of a rating sign, just off to the side, and his interested expression quickly morphs into that of unadulterated surprise. even five-year-olds would have a harder time looking more genuinely surprised than kei. ]

Why didn't I get a full score? [ ... his voice drops in suspicion, as he furtively hides his snack behind his back-- ] And how do they know I have a BLT?

[ For what it's worth, the ten year old doesn't seem to notice his babbling (though she does notice), nor to particularly care (which is indeed true at the moment). She's far more intent on, well, kneeling over the poor dead butler to get a good look at his face. Which looked pale indeed, and he didn't appear particularly alive, but he was still not long dead (if he was dead, she didn't actually want him to be dead) considering he wasn't cold to the touch.

Cooler than she expected, yes, but not cold, and not breathing as far as she could tell when she tucked stray tendrils of her hair behind one ear and place her ear in close. She couldn't hear him breathing. A hand on his neck couldn't find a pulse, either, but she wasn't sure she knew where to feel for that. Wiping her other hand on her shirt, she reached up to her own neck and sought out where she could feel her pulse.

It took her a moment, but once she thought she had it, she moved her fingers on the man's neck to about the same place. There was not, sadly, any heartbeat to be detected. It was both incredibly unnerving and also distantly sad, but it left her with no idea what to do, considering that for all her adventures and for having seen Haku near death, she still hadn't dealt with anyone who'd actually crossed that threshold.

Which means that babbling Jack has ten year old Chihiro looking up at him and asking, managing to keep most of her distress out of her voice if not off her face: ]

I think he is dead. What are we going to do?

[ Legitimately, she doesn't understand what comes next. Please say you have ideas, Jack, because in all the growing up she's undergone lately, handling the end of life has not yet factored in. ]

Well, obviously not during the boss fight. [ kei says reasonably, his free hand now reaching up to stroke at his stubble thoughtfully. ] But I was thinking after, we could have a go at it.

-- wait, how accurate are you? What's your control like? [ maybe he's just too used to fighting with izumi, who can hit a gnat out of the air and avoid kei by a hair's breadth no matter where he is, but. maybe it's okay to get to know his new, potential and shiny ally a little. ]

I think you have to try a little harder, crushes aren't too scandalous as far as these stairs are concerned...

[ Don't mind Imanotsurugi on another set of nearby stairs, or to be more specific, the guard railing like a cat that has enough lives to not care about the height below; he's been messing with the staircases more for fun than getting anywhere fast. Actually, this staircase he's been on has been putting him on a lonely path, so stair-hopping time! Well, once he can get his to move a bit, the angle's not right. ]

Hm... I kept some of the gym clothes my grumpy jerk of a housemate left behind in the house. Sure, he only has stuff in varying shades of gray and black, but they're really comfy and easy to sleep in!

[ Bingo! Thank you canon update for making him a bit more ~~shameless~~ honest about how much he misses the jerkface. The staircase swings around, and Imanotsurugi hops onto Makoto's staircase when it's in range without any trouble. What a weird boy, but he gives the tall lady a friendly wave hello. ]

Phase I

You've... gotta be kidding me...

[The body - and it's still hard to think that word right now, but the body is spare feet away from him. Between the corpse and the lightning flash that just lit up the room, his heart is pounding hard in his chest.

And is that- Yes. Yes, it is. The absurdity of it almost pushes a laugh out of Daisuke, something edging on hysteria, but the inappropriateness of it holds him back. But there's no mistaking it - there's a deck of cards in his hand. And several of them are covered in what looks like dried blood.]

It's a bad joke, or a bad dream. Has to be. There's no way...

Wait-

[A warm weight in his lap; he feels it when his legs shift. Looking down, he spots Chibimon laying on his thighs, unconscious but unharmed. Tension leaves his body, makes his limbs loose with relief.

Seeing Chibimon reminds Daisuke about the Jogress connection. Hard to describe, but he focuses his heart and- ah. There it is. Good. Far fainter than it should be, but he can still feel Ken... somewhere. Not here, obviously, but that's probably for the best.]

Ken... Hikari-chan... I need to find them.

[And suddenly, something creaks behind him. Daisuke whirls around, gripping the cards tight as if he can actually use them to defend himself. He spots double doors behind him, one of them slowly edging open.]

Someone is in here with him. But are they friend... or foe?]

Edited (Forgot to add <small> HTML code...) 2016-07-01 06:59 (UTC)

[ Does she what? Chihiro blinks, taking a step forward and holding her arms out from her sides to keep balanced. She purses her lips, looking around for that ephemeral idea of another stair, anything less likely to go belly up. When she processes what he means, her head whips back around, hair swinging out beyond the arc of her movement. ]

I'm not a ghost! I'm not a spirit, either! I'm alive, and human, and I have a name. It's Chihiro.

[ Granted, a name alone didn't guarantee anything, but it was still liberating to be able to freely remember and speak that name and feel its relation to her. That it was also a means of introduction is secondary. She wasn't pouting, but she was definitely giving Kei and odd look. ]

I'm trying to get out of here, but the stairs keep moving away from the doors, or the doors won't open.

[ She's not sure what to make of his surprise, or what he starts talking about after. Chihiro is starting to have a sneaking suspicion he might not fully be here, mentally, and while she wouldn't blame anyone for that, it's not all that helpful in the present stair issue. Then again, his balance was fine, so even if his head was halfway in the clouds, he could at least manage where he was walking.

Did he need even more help than she did? She wasn't sure, but it was probably better to stick together with someone who spoke and wasn't nailed to the wall, even if he was a little loopy.

She glanced at the hand behind his back, keeping his sandwich safe.

Or maybe he was just delirious in his hunger. ]

What's your name, sir?

[ She doesn't catch sight of the scorecard holding portrait, let alone when it flips another card that says, "My eyes have eyes. 9.82/10 for Expressing Surprise. 3/10 for Expressing Paranoia." What she does see is another thin, rickety staircase moving at an angle toward them from further down the stairs.

She doesn't pause to do more than calculate if she can make that angle leap or not. Confident that she can at least try, and that she must try, she instead reaches out and makes a scooping motion at Kei, encouraging him to come her way. Or that way. ]

Come on, we've got to go now!

[ If all else fails, she'll dart forward to try and claim a sleeve or a hand or whatever she can reach and pull him diagonally toward the rickety stairs leading up to an equally rickety landing. But those stairs aren't rolling!

They're mostly just rotting, but that's probably fine, it's not like they'll be doing more than leaping down on them (potentially) and hoping not to fall through! ]

[It...probably could, and Jonathan considers this. Still, that's certainly a specific question, and certainly a direct way of phrasing things, but he's polite enough to keep that to himself and push the thought away.]

If I went through that much effort to bring such a cruel fate to an innocent man...it would be unthinkable.

[While Jonathan seems tense, Fugo is just kind of exasperated. This whole thing was ridiculous—pretty typical of ViViD, but ridiculous nonetheless. But as silly as it is to him, he's going through the motions anyway, because... well, that was probably the only way out of it. That's how it usually worked.

Being accused of murder is kind of a big thing, though...?! Especially when he's gone out of his way to not stand out here. There's an irony to what this man says, too, that doesn't go over his head.]

What proof do you have?

[It didn't matter to him what anyone thought, but what would happen if he was found guilty? He didn't really want to find out.]

[The footsteps behind him seemed to have fallen away, and he stopped running after a minute of silence behind him. Whatever had been crying in the hallway had suddenly become very loud, very close, and extremely distinguishable. Following the sound, Sebastian came across... a child? It was hard to tell in the dark.]

Um... are you okay?

I'm not certain if I could provide you a clear answer to that.

( Oftentimes, Integra didn't know what to do-- or say in these situations. Her childhood was far from normal, she knew. As a result of that, knowing how to console others-- especially children, was almost a foreign concept to her. There was a certain amount of trial and error, in more recent years, but there were times when it was still difficult for her.

Such as now. Yes, she could tell Trucy was clearly upset. Perhaps even because it was what she had just said. And while she was not at loss for such things as compassion or empathy, she didn't believe there was anything she was capable of doing to provide her comfort. Thus, finding herself trying the only way she knew how: by pulling Trucy into an embrace, by gingerly stroking her fingers through her hair. It was - after all - what her father would have done. )

I--. ( She never was close to Apollo, truth be told; there was nothing she could say to that effect. But when she brings up Rip, her voice falters slightly. ) She was here, for a time. But there is nothing you need worry about now.

( And that's all she could do, try as this woman might. )

[Great. One of these days again. Jinga huffed to himself and reached into his corset to free the little blue butterfly from the material and send it to lazily flap around the room before arching an eyebrow in response. The butterfly came back to land on his head, definitely ruining the tall dark and slightly annoyed look he had going on simple because each beat of its wings sheds tiny flecks of glitter.]

You're stuck inside of ViViD, which is a game system geared for annoying and killing people, even if the creators insist it's only a few minor bugs. [He reached up to shoo the butterfly away.] If you don't know what that is, just think extremely stupid dream with something trying to kill you. [The butterfly decides to fly around and settle on the body, making tiny chiming sounds as it does so.]

I'm called Jin, and I think it would be best to not handle anything you find while you're stuck here. It might try to kill you.

"E-eh? Umino-kun?"

Cute? Umino? Usagi isn't quite sure what to say to that. But of course, more importantly, after she gets over the initial pang of familiarity at hearing that name, hearing that particular voice again, Usagi whirls around. All but lighting up at the sight of her friend.

"Mako-chan!"

There's relief there, of course, and joy, because she has dearly missed her senshi. Makoto being the only one not previously present while the other four were all here at once prior. She can't help but to dash forward, approaching with her arms wide and trying and probably failing to entirely keep the threatening tears at bay as her hair trails behind her.

phase i; the butler (still) did it(?)

[ Dwyer can be competitive, but 1. only when his father is involved and 2. he would never take it this far. Besides, what reason would he have to kill a supposed fellow servant? That would mean more work for him, ugh. He turns toward the open door, and holds up a baguette as he shrugs. ]

Don't look at me like that. It's stale, but not that stale.

[ Stale bread only has Mt 3, for gods' sakes. ]

phase ii; daaaaaad whyyyyy

[ Fatherly scolding and arguing is something he deals with all the time since joining Corrin's army, so this is easy enough for him to shrug off. The painting thing? Not so much. This portrait can't possibly be his father because Jakob is truly too damn stubborn to simply let anyone turn him into a talking painting.

(A part of him, the more sentimental part of him he doesn't like to admit, believes, no, knows that Jakob has more faith in him than accuse him of cold-blooded murder right off the bat, even if they're both terrible at showing that faith.) ]

Give me a break...I can't muster the motivation to argue with you when you're the way you are right now. You don't even have a third dimension.

"Of all the—!"

[ Cutting painting-Jakob off, Dwyer sighs, and turns to the nearest actual, three-dimensional person. ]

Do you happen to have a curtain or something I can smother him with?

phase iv; is it time for guard stance???

[ Fortunately, his vision in the dark isn't all too bad; chalk it up to his own living space in the Deeprealms, and how he might have even preferred it that way. He finds the darkness and gloom a bit soporific, which isn't really doing him any favors when the crying is getting louder the farther he walks, and then hears another set of footsteps.

That almost never bodes well. ]

Who's there? You've got a lot of nerve, trying to sneak up on me in the dark like that.

[ (Even if they weren't actually "sneaking"...) He's hoping they're a friend and not foe. If they happen to be the latter...well, he's got some steel daggers under his cloak and in his thigh holster and knows how to use them. ]

[For that brief moment, Yusuke dares to hope that maybe, just maybe, this guy happened to have some common sense. After all... did he really look like the type to commit some convoluted murder scheme? Really? It's true people assumed the worst of him, thanks to his punk appearance and attitude and all, but this was a little too far, and it was kind of insulting.

But as Jonathan then moves in closer, face stern, Yusuke realizes that hoping for a normal resolution in this place was just plain dumb.

He leans back, trying to put some distance between him and this giant of a man, but as Jonathan makes his... threat? It sure seemed like a threat where he was sitting-- Yusuke's face drops in an expression of disbelief.]

No! Jeez, it's bad enough I'm stuck here, but you don't gotta make it worse by going into exposition mode on me!

I'm telling you, I got nothing to do with this! Track down whatever assholes made this place, they got more to answer for than I do!

This...this is terrible.

[Though being a doctor and field medic, she's perfectly used to dead bodies. For the moment, Angela is more entranced with trying to take a pulse and trying to confirm some sign of life. Or at least if said body has been alive recently.

It takes her a few moments to notice the other occupant here. And intervenes her body between the corpse and him. Mostly as a protection of innocence if anything.]

Do not look. Sights like these will only bring you problems.

[After a gasp of surprise from seeing the actual situation, the good doctor scrambles into action. Her mind has already proclaimed the body as dead. It would take a miracle to survive a wound like that.

As for the mopping man.....well, she's seen people do crazier things out of stress. She's not even being accusatory at the moment, more putting her hands on the man's shoulders to push him back from the body a little, speaking with a Swiss accent.]

Sir, please, find a place to sit down.

[If he fainted and collapsed, he could end up hurt too. Yes, definitely guiding him to a chair.]

Are you feeling okay? Dizzy at all?

[He accidentally come across that conversation and was already feeling a pang of embarrassment. No one wanted their family's problems witnessed by others, even if it was an act of fiction.]

No curtain unfortunately. I would say I could just burn the portrait down for you, but I suspect you don't want to watch an effigy of your father burning.

[Hopefully not. It seemed like a morbid idea at the very least.]

No, I'm fine.

... More importantly, you should probably keep running. [ She can still hear footsteps... ]

[A certain someone comes up from behind Jessica when he notices right away it's her. Of course he's going to be his usual smug self. She's also certain recognize the voice speaking to her as he approaches.]

You get used to the strangeness after awhile. [Hello old friend, look who it is.]

[Technically, not a no. Although, I mean, if you had that level of control and murdering skill, why even bother with the egg? Still, Togo mentally declines to cross his name off of the suspect list for now.]

Well, if we start by assuming that you aren't the killer, then you must be here for some other reason. I hope you won't take it too badly if I ask about your alibi?

[Rule: Tread lightly around people who might be egg-wielding murderers.]

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Page 9 of 86

//TESTDRIVE15.EXE

i laughed out loud when i read this tag

Kara Thrace || Battlestar Galactica

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phase iii

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kalsfjsda your tag too!!

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phase III

Motomiya Daisuke | Digimon Adventure 02

lkajdsf then i also laughed at my html fail... and this tag, kei, really, full score?

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bonus...!!

phase iv

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phase i

Phase III

dwyer | fire emblem fates

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I

I

Phase II

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phase ii

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