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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Dio Brando | JoJo's Bizarre Adventure
Clearly I, DIO stepped on an insect without knowing it. Oh well.....
[He shrugs and tosses the spoon away. He had better things to then wonder why or even if he killed the man or not. Such as figuring out where he was and how he got here. The current surroundings, he finds himself certainly brings back memories of waits for whoever it is to come in throug the doors and be seized by the throat by a his youth with Jonathan in an mansion such as this... Though any reflections on the past are cut short as he hears someone coming this way. Slipping into shadows, Dio massive hand with a grip of iron and to look into a cruel yet sensual face.]
Hello, I'm DIO and I have some questions for you....
PHASE II: [You know who isn't bothered by the pictures grilling him? One Dio Brando, immortal vampire and genuine nasty piece of work. If anything he just looks bored as hell.
Yes, yes... maybe I did kill him but then how many files do you remember swatting in your lifetime?"
YA DAMN INGRATE, SERVANTS ARE SUPPOSE TO VALUABLE!!! I DIDN'T RAISED A SON WHO WAS GOING TO BE WASTEFUL!
[The portrait of an ugly drunken-looking old man is the most vocal of accusers. Dio just rolls his every time he speaks.]
Like a worthless failure of a thief who spent whatever money he'd gotten on booze and women would really know the value of things... It was one of the many reasons why I, DIO poised you...
[Anyone care to interrupt this family squabble?]
2!
( here comes saber walking by, seeing this tall man who she guesses has such bad grammar. horrible, as a roman emperor she can't even bear to listen to such filth. )
What else was it. I must also enlighten you that this so called "DIO" isn't an action. So you'd be better off speaking in a different tongue than making up words.
no subject
DIO is my name and he was speaking in first person as befits his status as ruler of the world, you simpering idiotic whore.
[She certainly looked the part to him.]
no subject
( a hand raises as she places a hand over her chest, a small roll of her eyes and next comes a clear of her throat. ) Speak with beauty, your speech is that of something which lays at the bottom of the barrel; nasty.
( she hums softly and then decides: )
A ruler of this world? Trapped inside of a fantasy, I see. There is no beauty in delusions, get over yourself and allow me to give you speech lessons!
no subject
Woman, do not think having a pretty face and body will spare you from DIO's wrath if you continue crossing him. He has killed people of both genders and of all ages for far lesser insults then yours. I am DIO, he who posses an immortal body and unrivaled power with my Stand. Now get on your knees and beg for my forgiveness, least I remove your tongue.
phase ii
ah well, he supposes he might as well say something. ]
What files? [ did he mean flies? so confusing. ] Jeez, instead of standing here and yelling like an unwashed savage, you should be making yourself useful, you know? What good comes out of arguing with a portrait?
i...... hi dad.
Now there's a name that stops Giorno cold in his whatever thought that he was having. (Once again trapped in another ViViD against his will. This time a murder mystery? At least they kept him on his toes.) It's not as if Giorno knows right away that this man was his true father, Dio Brando—the man in the photograph that he kept with him—but there's a chill that runs through his whole body.
He had always been curious to see what kind of man his father was. From the photo he looked like a power man and judging the aura that surrounded the man who shared the space with him right now, it was not a wrong assumption. Still, there was no guarantee that this man before him was indeed Dio Brando. Even if Giorno has never once not trusted his instincts to tell him what is right from wrong, this is worth a more careful step. ]
Hello. [ Giorno speaks calmly as he does and lowers his head instinctively. He holds back his name; it's not as if he would recognize it. ]
If I'm able to answer them, I will.
Hi Son
Reaching out with his other hand, Dio pulls back the collar of Giorno's jacket and cranes his neck to see if he bears the 5-pointed star birthmark of his enemies...
Within seconds of his confirmation, he releases his grip on the youth and looks at him with a mixture of curiosity and caution. ]
Question 1: Your name and those of your parents...
no subject
My mother's name might not sound familiar to you, however I believe my father was a man that closely resembles you.
[ He doesn't want to say that his father is Dio Brando as there is no confirmation that this man is the same. Or even if that name is a good one. Still, hopefully that would suffice for an answer. ]
ii!
Might as well ignore them. Most things here aren't worth your time.
[Not that this man seemed like he needed any kind of reassurance. He had a powerful presence, an almost immovable one, and clearly wasn't bothered by what the paintings had to say. He was intimidating in a way that Fugo had never experienced before, but they were all in the same boat, stuck in a place they didn't want to be—in other words, he saw no reason not to impart his pessimism over how awful everything in Cerealia was regardless. And besides, being caught in the presence of someone like this? He'd rather not be perceived as an enemy.]
no subject
I, DIO can plainly see that. Is making obvious statements that even a monkey could come to, a habit of yours?
no subject
You'd be surprised what new people here don't know. People fall for this stuff all the time.
[It's a surprise there's no one around trying to fight the paintings right now, as they speak—]
no subject
[In a second, The tall muscular man in yellow standing right behind Fugo. You didn't even feel him move, much less see him.]
Then perhaps you can tell DIO all he needs to know about this place and it's tricks...
no subject
I'll tell you what I can. [He didn't know everything there was to know, but he'd certainly been through ViViD enough times...] It's supposed to be a game, but it preys on your weaknesses. It knows things it shouldn't, only to taunt you and prevent you from moving on.
[Or embarrassing them, ViViD liked to embarrass them.]
All that matters is reaching the end, but it likely won't be the last time you find yourself here.
I
When the noise has settled and he sets his eyes on the scene before him, Johnny immediately regrets entering the room. As he begins to turn his wheels back toward the main hall, there's a familiar voice from the shadows, followed by a familiar face. Johnny reflexively raises his right arm and calls out Tusk; there's no knowing what that bastard Diego might be up to and he's not taking any chances.
But as he gets a better look, there's something off about the jockey. He seems... bigger? The differences are small, like he could be Diego's brother more than the man himself. But Diego didn't have any siblings, he was pretty damn sure. What the hell...? Had he undergone some strange new transformation with that Stand of his? At least this one didn't have teeth or tails... yet.]
As if I don't know who the hell you are.
[A pause, his eyes narrowing. His right hand's nails are already set to fire at a moment's notice.]
...did you kill that man over there?