
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 [ 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. ] |
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I....I am unsure. I feel as if someone is trying to keep pace with me. If I stop moving, they do too. But...that would also mean they are listening in.
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[ He glances down at where he imagines her to be. ]
You armed?
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[In all her worry , she forgot a fairly obvious fact. Her suit was more than capable of generating light. Without that, she wouldn't be much of a rescuer and medic.
With a small grin at her own absent mind, she lit up the wings, bathing the area in a soft yellow glow.]
Ah, much better. Now we can...
[There was Mccree. But the other noise was...that certainly looked like an armed and angry butler.]
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They have a couple of moments, because the butler is a little startled by the sudden light. Works for McCree, because he’s stuck between a doctor and a hard place. He’s known Angie for a while, and he knows she’s not exactly a fan of wanton murder, and if he shoots to wound, he doubts she’ll want to leave the butler alone to bleed out.
Thankfully the answer presents itself on the ceiling. McCree quickly draws his pistol and fires a shot at a decorative light fixture just behind them. It comes free and crashed to the floor, sending the butler skirting back. That should buy them some time. ]
C’mon.
[ He motions for her to go first. He can take up the rear. ]
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Since McCree could defend himself, it was better that be put himself between the foe and her. Even if it wasn't something she'd like to do. Plus, she could heal up McCree later.]
Stay close. If we can escape, all the better.
[Plus, since she was the light source, she didn't want to drop him into the darkness. Running, yes, but making sure he stayed in sight.]
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[ He’s keeping pace with her pretty well, and since it seems they have a little time before their pursuer gives chase again— ]
You have any idea what the hell’s goin’ on?
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[About Talon and their whole deal. But she never got any confirmation.]
...yet I do not think this is Talon's operation.
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Have you had run ins with them, Jesse?
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Ran into some fellas usin' mighty familiar methods to rob a train.
[ She might have heard about that one. It was on the news and everything ]
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Even you, then. Before here, I was last in Iraq and a little out of touch with society. So much violence there and so many children and families caught up in it. I wonder if it is their doing also.
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[ He falls quiet for a moment, listening for the sounds of footsteps behind them. There seems to be some, but they're faint. ]
I think our friend's picked up the chase.