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?
|
PHASE I [ 02 15 ] 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. ] |
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Touko Fukawa | Dangan Ronpa
[this is ridiculously familiar. ridiculously, ridiculously familiar. everything from the entrance--seeing her home city a destroyed wasteland--to finding herself clutching what appears to be a murder weapon, with absolutely no recollection of how it got in her hand and the person in front of her got killed.
it's almost funny. she almost wants to laugh. almost being the operative term both of those cases.]
N-No, oh n-not this again--!!
[she grumbles under her breath, staring at the large, hardcover novel in her hand. fitting. only syo uses scissors. she shudders, staring down at the body--and it's plainly not syo's handiwork. therefore, not her problem. she shudders at the blood, fighting the nausea that tries to rise in her throat, but it's been a while since bodies have affected her that badly. so, obviously, someone is trying to frame her.
after a brief moment, she drops the book, rolling her eyes and kicking the body for emphasis before grumbling.]
I-I don't have the time for this b-bullshit. Seriously.
YOOOOOOOOO
At first, there's nothing about this place that brings back any uncomfortable memories for Leon, at least. He's pretty sure it's a ViViD level; that much he's used to. It's CERES jerking them around again. And it's creepy, sure, and he's been getting horror movie vibes off of it since the moment he found himself roaming the hallways, but it's still whatever. There's nothing going on yet. Probably any second some stupid shit is going to happen like usual. He's probably going to swing open these double doors and there'll be a serial killer waiting for him on the other side—
But he didn't expect his idle complainy thoughts to be accurate in quite that way.
He doesn't even notice the corpse at first. Even though he knows CERES is dragging in new people by the month in situations just like this one, he never expects it to be a classmate, and he never gets over the reaction when it is: the breath strangles out of him in a weird-sounding and definitely uncool noise, and he just stares stupidly for a moment, feeling the way his heart jumps up into high gear pumping suddenly-chilly-feeling blood through his veins.
God. It's Fukawa, too. This is going to be screwed up. (It's always pretty screwed up.)]
Yhhhh—Fukawa . . . ?!
[Then he takes in the scene, hovering awkwardly by the double doors, which have already gone and slammed shut behind him.
Oh. There's a dead body.
What?]
CHESTBUMPS U
such thoughts are cut short when she sees who's on the other side of the door.]
K-Kuwata! Y-Y--You're--
[she drops her hands just the slightest bit, though they're still crossed over her face and chest, just in case he turns out to be dangerous. he did kill maizono, after all.]
W-What are you d-doing here? You--m-murderer! A-Are you the one who f-framed me? I-If so, what a--s-sloppy job you've done!!
[she snorts. and then she pauses.
does he even know about syo? oh...boy. she just won't say anything about that particular...quirk.]
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But here's the alternative, and nope, he was wrong. This is worse. This sucks.
His expression shutters off into a glare. This isn't really helping him know how to cope with this. For like two seconds he tries to think of what to say to that, and then he gives up on thinking about picking his words, because there aren't any good words to pick anyway so why bother?]
—Hey, shut up! Don't just—don't ask me stuff and then turn around and spit that crap out at me! Yeah, I know! I know I am! You don't gotta tell me what I am! And I didn't do shit to you or that body, so lay off if you want me to explain anything! I could just leave you here instead!
[ . . . Maybe. He hasn't actually tried the doors yet.]
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she'd barely known kuwata, and true, the details of the case weren't exactly in maizono's favor. but that didn't mean she had to stay here and pretend to be nice to a boy who'd victimized a girl.
(or, any boy. or, anyone, for that matter.)]
W-W-Well, if you didn't, who d-d-did? The book isn't an M-MO I would use, it's w-w-way too obvious.
[she looks him over. it's so--very strange to see him alive, and they were supposed to have been friends, once upon a time. or something like that. but that didn't mean she had to cut him some slack, or anything.]
Y-You're dead, anyway. A-A-And even if you weren't, you w-w-were never very good in court.
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[He knows. He spits that out even though he already knows what her problem is, or so he thinks, and he doesn't even have an argument prepared against it. She hasn't said anything that wasn't true, which is why it makes him feel so sick and sour inside to hear. He can't even criticize her for saying it in the first place. What more does she owe him?
But at the same time, why? Why can't it not be like this? Why does she have to be this way about it?!]
What's your problem, why would you just say that crap to me?! I know, okay? I know I am! I know I am. I know I wasn't! You ain't telling me anything I don't know!
[He looks around, suddenly, eyes flicking to the corners of the room, like he could will someone else to be there. Kirigiri. Please? She'll vouch for him. She knows how to keep cool; she can talk to people and not make an ass of herself. It's all right, she'll say. We're friends. We're working together.
She's so much better at saying that kind of thing than he is.
But there's no one there, and finally he's forced to look back at Fukawa, jaw tight. Okay. Breathe. He can try.]
Just . . . just stop. Just stop and, look, if you'd just be cool about this for like two minutes you'd get it! You'd definitely see! I'm not gonna do anything to you! I didn't do that either!
[He gestures at the corpse. It's an NPC, he can tell; he can't get worked up about it. He's seen worse.]
no subject
[she crosses her arms and pauses when kuwata speaks a bit more rationally, and does her best to lower her tone just a bit. she drops down from shouting all the way to grumbling, her other default setting. she takes a step back from kuwata, but there's nothing more suspicious about her look than there is at any other time.]
F-Fine. I-I guess you're not d-d-dangerously wrong, but t-that doesn't mean I w-won't be ready in case you d-d-decide to h-hurt me!!
[beat.]
D-Do you know w-w-who the b-body is, though.
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[But he drops down into a grumble himself. That's apparently going to be their method of communication for now. The implication that he got off easy by dying pisses him off, but . . . less than the stuff she was saying before, so it's a step in the right direction. So this is how people win him over lately, is by lowering his standards right off the bat . . .
Whatever. Since she's calmer and allowing him to do this, he's gonna do it. Despite what he'd said, he would have felt weird just leaving her here. He's never been good at that. So, with a slightly sullen glare in her direction, he trudges over to the body to confirm what he's already pretty certain of.]
It probably ain't anyone real. I mean, it's probably someone CERES planted here for this level, y'know? You get what I'm saying? This is all part of ViViD! There's nothing like this in the real city that I know of.
phase i
...Maybe I should leave you two alone.
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[she points at him, eyes narrowed, and practically growls.]
A-Are you the one that s-s-set me up? H-Honestly, this is o-one of the s-s-sloppier times I've been f-f-framed...you must be t-truly pathetic, if this is your idea of framing someone.
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[What. Why is she getting angry at him. She's the one going around kicking unconscious people... speaking of which, is that body even breathing?]
I don't even have the slightest clue who you are.
[Wait, does that mean she's been framed before?]
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[she may have been too busy yelling to listen to the explanation properly. oh well.]
I-I guess I s-s-shouldn't be s-s-surprised. N-Not that you'd care, but I-I'm--Touko Fukawa.
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[Insert audible sigh here. Honestly, that book probably couldn't kill anyone.]
If someone set this up they might still be around. Waiting.
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He gives a concerned glance towards the girl near the body.]
Are - are you alright, Miss? ...What happened here?!
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[she glares at him critically, taking a step back. this is about where she desperately wishes she still had komaru, to hide behind, to draw that stupid weapon that Byakuya-sama had given her. then again, she doubts that would have done much with this ridiculously clothed boy.]
I-I have no i-idea what h-happened here. A-And...w-what are you? Some sort of cosplayer?
[she snorts derisively. what a horrible outfit that was.]
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I assure you, Miss, my concern is completely genuine! I feel it from the bottom of my heart!
[He frowns.]
I- I am sorry to trouble you. Do not worry, I will help to figure out what happened here! No, I am not a 'cosplayer'. Rather, I am a ninja!
i'm sorry for her
[she points at him, gaze accusatory, and practically snarls.]
S-Some wannabe c-cosplayer otaku...a-a-all you really w-w-want is to take advantage of an ugly g-girl with low self-esteem, isn't that t-true?! Well, I take pride in my uniquely u-ugly features, and won't lower myself to your l-level!!
[the body, touko. maybe focus on the body, instead of your weird hangups.]
it's okay... I know what I signed up for...
N-no... That cannot be!! I promise you, Miss, that I do not intend to take any sort of advantage over you. A-and I do not think that you are ugly at all! I promise... I am only here to help!!
[Lee will also ignore the body for now, as he chooses to drop to the ground and start doing one-handed push-ups with an intense sense of urgency.]
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It's when his gaze slides up to the person standing over the body that he lets out a choked noise of shock. ]
Ggkk—
[ Damn, that's embarrassing, though. This is clearly some kind of "haunted house" that's deciding to play on his "fears" by looking into his brain and throwing Fukawa at him as a prank. It's not like that kind of thing hasn't happened before. The idea that he gave CERES the reaction they wanted is at least as upsetting as the idea of Fukawa's... Fukawa. He coughs, trying to cover up the fact that that ever happened. (He's not afraid of her! CERES!!! Clearly you had to resort to this because he isn't afraid of anything!!!1) ]
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Byakuya-sama!!!
[she clasps her hands together, cheeks flushing, and smiles at him. what a relief, to run into Byakuya-sama in a place like this! surely, he would know who'd framed her.
(or, maybe he was the one who framed her. like the last time she was framed. magnanimously, fukawa decides not to consider this option.)
even if he didn't have any knowledge about that, it was still wonderful to see him.]
Oh, Byakuya-sama, I h-haven't seen you since that i-incident in T-Towa City!!
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So all he says out loud is: ] ...Likewise. I was rather enjoying the reprieve from being forced to listen to that ghastly screeching.
[ With that, he feels suitably recovered enough to jump into the actual situation at hand. He steps into the room properly, pointing at the dead body. ] Who is this person?
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[she immediately situates herself at Byakuya-sama's side--not close enough to be breathing down his neck, but certainly close enough to reach out and touch him if she so desired. after a moment, she bends down and inspects the book, eyebrows rising in shock and...disgust? she grumbles.]
Honestly. I-I wouldn't stoop l-low enough to use a M-Murakami novel as a m-m-murder weapon. N-No contemporary masterpiece of J-Japanese literature should be used in such a debasing way. D-D-Disgusting.
[she glances at Byakuya-sama, cheeks flushing, and toying idly with a strand of hair. she twirls it around her finger, attempting to look coy. like many of her other flirtatious gestures, it doesn't quite hit the mark.]
no subject
These two enable all the wrong things in each other.
Anyway. He listens to her explanation, frowning, although it's unclear whether he's concerned about the situation or whether he's concerned about her proximity to him. When she's done, he takes the book from her, flipping through it to see if there's anything strange stuck in it. ]
Well, this isn't a real murder in the first place, so it's still possible that you were designated as the culprit against your will. How very boring that would be...
SLAMS IN HERE REALLY LATE
What does get to her, though, is the sight of Fukawa near the NPC. ]
Fukawa-san...? [ She isn't sure what else to say, really. It's possible that Fukawa isn't actually here, anyway. ]
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On a whim, he chooses the door nearest him, a set of promising-looking double-doors with ornate fixtures. He stumbles a little pushing them open, causing one to clatter with a loud slam and he shakes a bit, mouse-like at the entrance.
It's a moment or two for his eyes to adjust to the scene. There's a body on the floor, blood is minimal, but there's enough to make him queasy. His hands ball into fists at his chest and he takes a step back, eyes watery.]
W...who?
[The dark-colored uniform made it hard to focus right away, but after a moment he sees the shy bookish girl, Touko, holding a bloodied hardcover novel.]
A-a-a-ah Fukawa-...san?