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C E R E A L I A ★ M O D S。 ([personal profile] reparator) wrote in [community profile] ioculus2016-06-30 05:58 pm
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//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

[ 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

[ 06:00 ] 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

[ 10:45 ] 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

[ 14:30 ] 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!

manolia: (3)

[personal profile] manolia 2016-07-01 04:59 am (UTC)(link)
[The painted Sarif hauls the mop in with a loud shloop as soon as Chibi lets his grip slacken; he takes a few steps back so as not to slip on the hardwood floor. With a twirl of the mop, the painting starts saying something else, but Chibi doesn't bother to listen.]

['People who'd kill for me if I asked 'em to' - that is awfully morbid. The guy would fit right in with the rest of CERES, Chibi thinks. The other part of him thinks it is even sadder, for this ponytailed fellow, that it is his boss showing up as the important figure.]


It will shut up if you walk away. That is, assuming these paintings do not follow us. [Chibi turns to walk away, but looks behind him after a step to beckon Pritchard to follow.] It is not the real... Whoever that might be, as I am sure you've gathered.

[Though one can never be sure...!]
Edited 2016-07-01 05:00 (UTC)
manolia: (8)

[personal profile] manolia 2016-07-02 07:17 pm (UTC)(link)
That is a good question. [It's one Chibi hasn't quite figured out himself; nobody has. His mouth twists in some mix of thought and distaste.] The one explanation is that it is a training exercise. What they could be training us for, nobody--

[I see you cannot solve this, either, brother, one of the paintings jeers, deep and rumbly. Chibi whips around to face the source of the noise: a black dragon, with a white beard and eyes glazed with cataracts, sits in the middle of the frame. Just like you ran from the end of the--]

[Chibi knocks on the frame, heaves a heavy sigh, mutters it's not real. It never is.]
In any case, as I was saying. [Let's just... Walk away from that.] CERES isn't exactly... Benign.
manolia: (11)

[personal profile] manolia 2016-07-04 01:47 am (UTC)(link)
Well, as you have seen pictures of those you know, I see pictures of those I know. I do not see how it is relevant, so... [It being the picture of his brother, which resumes trying to talk shit as they keep down the corridor. Chibi would be lying if he said it didn't get to him - hearing that gruff voice, so familiar it resonates in his soul, telling him what he's done wrong.]

[It's not real, he reminds himself mentally, with an easy wave of his hand for Pritchard's benefit.]


What we know of CERES' function, as of now, is twenty kinds of complicated, but-- [Chibi clicks his tongue, wondering how to phrase it] --They told you about the Flamines, yes? Really strange masked fellows, but CERES had a contract with them, ostensibly to destroy worlds in exchange for payment.

[Dryly, the eye-roll not on his face but thick in his voice:] So. There are politics. And so I am not surprised by the peril involved in these simulations.
Edited 2016-07-04 01:48 (UTC)
manolia: (3)

[personal profile] manolia 2016-07-04 04:34 am (UTC)(link)
See, there is the thing about lies: they are like yarn. [Oh, god, here goes. Chibi might look only thirty-something, but he speaks like an old man - head high, eyes all alight with pride at his own perceived wisdom.] They are threads, upon threads, upon threads. The problem is that they are all intertwined, some tighter than others, but...

The barest touch, the right cut-- [he snaps his fingers, like he's crunching the invisible yarn between his fingers] --and they unravel. You might be surprised how many stupid missteps a group can make, if you look. Of course, I hope that is truer of CERES than our little ragtag group from other worlds, here.
manolia: (1)

[personal profile] manolia 2016-07-04 05:28 am (UTC)(link)
[Rude. A little flash of offense passes over his face, though it's like a mockery of the actual emotion. This guy is starting to remind him of someone from home, really, and not just in the hair and long build.]

[Chibi shrugs it off as easily as it came, though.]


Me? I work with machines. [That's not the half of it, but Pritchard didn't ask for the half of it. Really, he didn't ask for any of it, but details.] As for the contracts, no copies are in our hands - turns out when you try to take that sort of thing from a heavily guarded room, you face some unfortunate resistance. But-- [He points a finger, as if to cut the other man off at the pass.] There are ocular monitoring implants in our eyes, labeled as being produced by the 'Flamine Federation.'

--Ah, but before you get any ideas about tearing your eyeballs out, I might advise not doing that.
manolia: (6)

[personal profile] manolia 2016-07-04 06:37 am (UTC)(link)
[Ah. Chibi stops, raises both eyebrows, and listens patiently. Part of him wants to argue, but part of him knows there's a point there; things do not make sense around here. They never have. Goddess knows he's worked over certain things a million times - why did those robots drop them in there, last time? What the hell is Mosley on?]

[The arrogance in Chibi, though, says he'll learn!]


Abridged version, abridged version. There are better places to give you the long story than here. [He sighs.] And... Well, I did warn you. The last fellow I know sort of, ah... Shorted out the connection to the one in the br-- the seat of his consciousness [he didn't have a brain. there was just space there. there were stars in there. but try explaining that to someone who's already pissy and doubtful], and there was a bit of an explosion. [And Chibi had to clean it up. That sucked.]

[A sadistic part of Chibi considers actually introducing this guy to Saiduq. Good old 'teleports directly into your apartment without warning,' 'texts you before he tears his eyeballs out to tell you to come get implants from his dead body' Saiduq. There are weirder aliens out there!]


If you'd like to try, though, after you die quite the death, you will come back to find what I have told you.
manolia: (3)

[personal profile] manolia 2016-07-05 11:07 pm (UTC)(link)
Set aside an hour or two, then; it is a long one. [Though, Chibi doesn't know how this guy would find him besides his ridiculous hat to 'hold him to it,' so...] And so you can, ah, find me - my name is Chibi. A pleasure to meet you.

[Despite you being an asshole at first. Chibi finds that the best way to deal with types like Pritchard is to appear unflappable; like water off a duck's back, snide comments can just roll off. They're young, relatively! They'll learn.]

[Still, he steps onto the staircase they've come up on, just a tender step, barely even noticing the bloody footprints - and maybe there's something distinctly inhuman about the way the horns on his hat twitch downward when it starts to rumble.]