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?
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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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Peridot | Steven Universe
I—what?
[ Peridot has a pretty narrow experience of humanity. How is she supposed to know what blood is, or even what a corpse is? If she has a bloody fork in her hand, and the butler is covered in blood... Whatever ominous chill might run through someone who has veins at all is completely absent here. He's obviously fine. He's just lying down! ]
Wow... What a clod. Can you believe this? [ She turns to face whoever is just coming in through the doors, using the bloody fork in her gesturing, unconcerned with how this situation might look. ] Who gets that much pasta sauce all over themselves? Even I know better than that!
[ Do you know better, Peridot? Do you really?? ]
PHASE IV
[ When she hears the crying, Peridot hesitates for a moment, but curiosity compels her to follow the source of the sound. She doesn't want to admit it, but she feels pretty lost right now herself, without anyone else she knows by her side. If she could find a kindred spirit, and maybe even help them out—yeah, that'd be cool! They'd be falling over themselves to be her friend if she did that!
But rather than giving her a friend to bond with, this hallway is becoming more and more isolating and frightening. By the time she's running, all she can think about is making her way back to any kind of normalcy whatsoever. She's out of options, except for the one strategy that her hypothetical friend was employing—
Wailing loudly for help. ] ...H... How could this happen to meeeee?!
BONUS
[ Peridot doesn't know what a pipe is either, so she's holding it gripped in her fist more like one would hold a hammer. But she can still plead her case! ]
Well... Let's be clear here. I definitely understand the crime, and everything about it. But because I don't want to run my mouth about such an apparently insensitive topic, don't ask me about that!! The point is, it was—that one! That one did it!! I know for unspeakable reasons!
[ She swings her pipe-hammer to point in the direction of your character, desperately. That's all she's got to say for herself? Apparently. ]
phase iv
Um... are you okay?
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[ She's startled at first, and leaps back into the darkness—but just as abruptly as she did that, she jumps back forward to latch onto Sebastian's leg. She certainly looks child-sized, and the dark mostly obscures the fact that she's green. ]
Oh my stars, you actually came!!
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Where's your mom?
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Not... exactly? You just seemed lost.
[Well, that's probably accurate.]
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You don't know what a mom is, do you.
[It's not a question.]
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[ She's taking it as one anyway. And she's starting to worry that maybe this guy is hostile instead of helpful after all. ]
Who are you, anyway! State your business!
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[Even in the dark, he can see how pointy her hair is. How much hairspray does that even take?]
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[ That... doesn't sound like it's helping her case. ]
And I've never heard of a Sebastian. You're some kind of human, aren't you?
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Phase I
No, sauce has a completely different consistency... Also, who would be eating pasta sauce without pasta?
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[ Though she remains oblivious, she's starting to get a bit anxious the more she's not getting any validation for the things she's saying. ]
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[ Okay, this is more serious than she thought. This girl either really doesn't seem to have a clue or is in deep denial. Though on a better glance—she doesn't look totally human, does she?
Should she tell her? ... First, is it even safe to be talking with her? She hardly seems malicious, though.
Before anything else, though, Tsubasa just really wants to get away from the dead body, for her own sanity's sake. ]
For now, why don't you put the fork down? And then come this way? We shouldn't, um—disturb him.
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[ She warily looks between Tsubasa and the corpse. And then down at the fork. For once it seems like her internal IS THIS A WEAPON radar might finally be accurate. And if that's the case, no way is she going to disarm herself! ]
If I follow you, the fork stays.
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... Nothing, I suppose. Stay there if you like.
[ She really doesn't want to stay here. But what are you gonna do. ]
But can you at least tell me what you were doing here?
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[ It sounds like a lie. She says it really defensively. But. ]
After... After that briefing.
[ That's something she doesn't want to think about too much right now. She grips her fork even tighter. ]
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[ She's not particularly keen on thinking about that right now, either—nor does she really want to think about the corpse that's laying right there on the floor. There are way too many things nagging at her and making her want to stop dealing with everything and just get sick to her stomach. But no, focus, focus...
That situation actually sounds very similar to hers... sans the whole murder set-up scenario. She gives Peridot a good, long look, evaluating her expression, her reactions, and the way she carries herself, until she seems to have satisfied herself with some sort of conclusion. ]
The same thing happened to me. Though I didn't exactly wake up here, but in another room.
[ Now what... She thought it might be better to be discreet, but she senses that this isn't go to go anywhere unless she fully explains the situation. ]
—Please don't be alarmed, but I think you've been set up.
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[ She's trying to not be alarmed, like she was told, but she can't see anything but negative connotations here. Was she going to be punished?! ]
For what? Who would do something like that? Have I really become that much of a threat?! [ That's maybe a little... optimistic? Pessimistic? Exaggerating the situation. ]
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[ An avoidant answer. She really has no idea and she can't presume to answer. She doesn't even know who she's talking to, after all. ]
But that man by your feet—he's dead.
[ She says it gingerly. This girl doesn't appear to be human, so she can't predict how she's going to take that, but it's still a little bit hard to say to someone. ]
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[ She finally does let the fork clatter to the ground, stepping away from the body and stretching her hands up into the air. ]
I-I didn't do it!!
[ Which is pretty useless to say after she was already told she was set up, but everything only just clicked for her, and she has to get that reflexive reaction out of the way, even if it's belated. ]
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phase iv; this is not the steven you are looking for, but hello anyway
for that reason, he'll be releasing carbink to light the inky blackness with flash. it's then that he hears a new voice call out, so he and carbink will be following it to investigate. as he approaches, the light of carbink's flash glitters against something... green? huh. ]
...Are you all right?
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[ She jumps back in surprise... and then keeps her distance for now, stance defensive. She's wary of something like Carbink being here. Are these two Gems?? Are they from Homeworld??? ]
I'm... not... not all right! I wouldn't be taken down by something like this!—Who are you?
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Someone without malicious intent, I assure you.
[ he notices that she's defensive, so he at least wants to get that much out of the way. carbink doesn't seem to be wary of her at all, twitching its ears curiously. ]
Were you looking for help?
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