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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nill. dogs
[ yes, because a tiny fourteen-year-old girlchild in a tattered frilly dress is murder suspect zero, the mastermind behind this torturous mansion and the destroyer of all things good...! the most intimidating part of her, of course, is the terrified shaking of her limbs, the sort that starts in her tremoring boots and ends in someone else's, kept together only through sheer force of will and the iron-tight grip on the... dog plushie...? being held between her hands like a prayer.
she hasn't noticed the dried blood on it yet. nope. she's certainly not noticing that, because the all-too-fresh blood on the murder victim is just a little more pressing of a concern at this very moment. the small girl takes a tentative step forward, blue eyes wide with terror and worry all rolled up into one as obligation takes her forward in spite of her fear -- is he dead? is he really dead? there's so, so much blood, but she's seen something similar to this before, and back then--
if you've ever wondered what the sound of a mute fourteen-year-old girl running the hell away was like, it kind of starts like this: a startled, soundless scream, the frantic flutter of a pair of small, white wings beating the air, and the panicked sound of bare feet hitting the wood, 0.3 seconds before those two double doors slam open.
by the time anyone's managed to peer in, nill's already across the room, her tiny wings standing up poised like knives to cut as she jams herself underneath a chair, the dog plush with the dried blood held in front of her menacingly. she's going to murder you with it if you even think of stepping her way, okay, or so her trembling bottom lip promises, her body shaking so badly that the chair itself rattles against the wall.
terror comes in small packages, but in this case, so does the terrified. ]
phase iii.
[ look, in nill's defense, gossip is all good and well, and nill certainly has nothing to hide if it'll get her upstairs and out a door to safety, but isn't this situation kind of disadvantageous for those who're mute...? is what nill would think if she were a little more bitter, a little more annoyed. as it stands now, however, all she's done for the past half hour is give the stairs pleading looks that were, unsurprisingly enough, ignored, and completely and utterly failing to climb those stairs on her own. unfortunately, staircases aren't really known for their amazing powers of empathy, and nill isn't really known for her penchant to give up -- so the stalemate continued. that is, until you came about.
you could be climbing those stairs like a trooper gunning for the last cookie in the cookie jar, three steps away from finally getting out of the clusterfuck that is these staircases from hell, when all of a sudden, and it really is always all of a sudden, the stairs decide that they've been lenient enough, and unceremoniously dump you down the side like a sack of potatoes.
amazingly enough, the first thing you'll see below you is not the creaky wooden floors that will soon become intimate with your face, and instead is a little tiny bird of a small girlchild flinging herself underneath you, her eyes taking on the light of frenzied determination and small wings set into a stubborn line as she-- wait, is she trying to catch you?!
11/10 for guts, one portrait flips a sign, while the other one gives a 0.5/10 for intelligence, would vine again. but dammit, she is not going to let you fall...!
... she probably doesn't have a choice in the matter, huh. ]
choose your own adventure.
[ eh anything goes ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ]
Phase I
Besides, she recognizes terror when she sees it, in the form of a girl younger than she is, cowering beneath a chair as if it would help protect her somehow. Her own expression drops into a frown as she walks through the door. A quick check at the side of the corpse's neck tells her that the butler is a goner.
Maybe it could be a trap. Maybe this girl was actually a psycho trying to trick her.
But thankfully for everyone involved, none of those thoughts so much as cross Veronica's mind. The girl was clearly terrified and standing up, she takes one step in her direction.]
Are you all right?
[Her voice is soft and gentle as she can make it, trying to soothe her.]
Are you injured? Do you know what has happened?
i
She didn't expect to find a kid in here. She moves over slowly. )
Hey there.
( She gets down on a knee trying to get a good look at the girl. She doesn't get too close and gives a wide berth; the terror is obvious, so she doesn't want to scare her more by getting too close too soon. )
You don't need to be afraid now. I'm not going to hurt you.
3
While Michelle tries to soften her landing, she sees she's barreling straight towards Nill. Panic settles in her belly;]
Hey, you! Get out of the way or you'll get flattened!
choose our own adventure (warning: this is a terrible adventure)
Chihiro knows that feeling. She also knows that feeling of figuring out a way of getting down. It's the reason why, when the door back into the staircases of doom opens again, Chihiro is hanging over the ledge and trying to get a good foothold on the small roof below her. That it happens to look like she's struggling is because she's trying not to slip. She jerks her head up to look at the opening door and calls out: ]
Wait! Don't let the door close!
[ While promptly sliding down as she gets her foothold and appears to otherwise be falling off the ledge in a split second evaluation. ]