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!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

PHASE I

[ Chihiro tries taking stock of her surroundings, which after the wash of white and the crash of thunderous sound that followed, meant blinking and whirling around, wide eyed. She vaguely knew this was to be expected — the sudden change of setting, less so the particulars of where she stood now — but it didn't make it any less disorienting.

She's in a small hall with a set of double doors closed in front of her; the other side is where she believes the crashing, thunderous noise originated. At the far end of the hall, she spies a smaller door, reminding her of some of the out of the way doors set into the panels of the bath house.

All right. Things weren't solved by holding still, unless they were; but with no one around telling her that was a good idea, Chihiro was left with moving forward and finding out what she needed to do in order to get back out of what she was presently mired in.

Only as soon as she opens the double doors she comes across you, whoever you are, standing there. With a body on the floor in front of you dressed in black, and some odd object in hand. It may in fact be an eggplant; or it may be something entirely different. Chihiro's response is the same either way. ]

...! Excuse me! I didn't mean to interrupt, I'm sorry!

[ Before she promptly attempts to close the doors once more. ]

PHASE II

[ Turns out there is such a thing as an accessery to murder, though Chihiro's not sure what that's supposed to mean, and mostly tunes out the accusations that seem to fly from portraits she almost recognises.

Politely, considering she's told at least three portraits accusing her of murder that she needs to keep moving, and she can't talk right now, she's sorry. Which is all well and fine before she finds herself slowing down, catching sight of a portrait of what appears to be her mother looking out, dead eyed, with limp yellow carnations clutched in her hands. The portrait doesn't speak. It just stares.

Chihiro stares back, taking a step forward just as a hand from the portrait at her back reaches out, fingers bending into claws as it tries to snatch at the material of her shirt... ]

Mom?

[ This seems more like something her Dad would have gotten himself stuck in first... ]

PHASE III

[ The problem with moving staircases is they don't always move in ways profitable for the person standing on where two meet.

Which is how Chihiro found herself scrambling to hold on to the railing of one staircase as the other swung out and away from under her feet. A nearby portrait was rating her climbing ability with a placard held in their hands. It reads, "5/10 for Style". ]

Almost... there...!

[ She grunts, jamming the toe of one sneaker between two balusters and continuing to haul herself upward through sheer force of will.

Which of course is when the staircase promptly decides to start a slow roll over. Sure sucks for anyone who doesn't have a firm hold on the railing! ]

Woah-- that's new. [ said in the impressed tones of someone who has never seen a staircase pretend to be the world's most misshapen dog, but who has seen giant kamikaze robotic alien whales do something similar, and therefore his very first line of thought is 'i wanna try running on that'. and of course, this being kei, he goes off to do exactly just that.

abandoning his own staircase, which has decided that this would be a fantastic time to fold itself into the world's largest accordion, he pushes himself off and sails through the air for all of half a second, his ridiculous trench-coat tail flapping behind him like a broken banner before he lands in a semi-crouch on the rolling staircase. semi-, because he has to have a hand free for his sandwich, which he totally didn't scavenge out of a dead guy's kitchen because he was hungry, okay, what kind of an opportunistic idiot do you take him for (no really, he's actually that stupid). at least he doesn't take the opportunity to snack on his sandwich like a douchebag, but he does look down at the little girl with the death grip on the railings with some interest, even as he slowly walks along the rotating staircase in order to keep his balance. ] I'm surprised, though.

[ he doesn't look all that, to be honest. stubble, pair of swords hanging off his sides, twenty-year-old man with an opaque expression on his face that is completely offset by how cosplay-ish his trenchcoat looks, but the interest that he shows in the little girl hanging onto the railings is hardly feigned. ] I didn't think this house would mess with its own ghosts. ... Or maybe it's just trying to keep itself entertained while waiting for more victims? Can houses feel boredom?

[ 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. ]

[ 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?

[ 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! ]

he's not known for his powerful ability to think

manchildren - 2016-07-01 15:24 (UTC) - Expand

but instead, for his powerful ability to grill mochi and throw down right

onethousen - 2016-07-01 20:48 (UTC) - Expand

grilling mochi is his defining character trait ehehe

manchildren - 2016-07-02 03:15 (UTC) - Expand

this trait has left me hungry all weekend for no good reason

onethousen - 2016-07-05 02:43 (UTC) - Expand

[IN ANOTHER WORLD, A CERTAIN NO. 2 ATTACKER IS JUDGING YOU, TACHIKAWA.]

Chihiro || Spirited Away

phase iii. hi--

i laughed out loud when i read this tag

kalsfjsda your tag too!!

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

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phase iii!

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