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 [ 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.
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no subject
But if this kid didn't know den-den mushi or Devil Fruit, then the mingling of different worlds had to be true. In that case, Law had to show him what he meant. "Do you really want to believe in ghosts," he sniffed, "when you're around people who can do things like this?"
With a flick of his wrist another Room turned the hall faintly bluish, again, and this time he followed it up with a quick flick of his finger and "Takt." Objects all around the hall began to float up into the air - vases of flowers, decorative tables, the loose rugs on the floor - and the portrait frames on the walls rattled. He touched nothing of Keigo's, but with objects slowly whirling around him at Law's direction, there was ever the threat that he could do something much, much worse with just a twist of his fingers. The smirk starting to grow on his lips suggested as much.
no subject
He watched as the objects floated around, much like a poltergeist had entered the room and begun to shift things about. He regarded Law's expression with a guarded one of his own, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "I don't want to believe in that stuff, no."
Keigo never wanted to believe in ghosts. Even for as much entertainment as he derived out of the occult, he never wanted to experience it for himself. But that was too late. He was already exposed to that realm and going back was impossible. And if this guy didn't take his suggestion seriously...
"But I have no choice. And if you can't figure it out, even with all that power you have," he made a gesture to the glowing room, the floating objects, "then maybe spirits are the reason."
no subject
Whether or not that was the source of the strange happenings inside this weird house, there was still more research to be done. Talking paintings which could appear as familiar faces could still be due to some sort of technology or ability that neither of them had experienced before. Law was intent on digging out any and all options and then testing them, experimentally, to determine which was the right one. He folded his arms again and studied Keigo carefully.
"...if this place is neither in my world nor yours, then the traditional rules of what can and cannot be real are suspended. It opens the doors to more possible explanations for the phenomena."
no subject
He offered Law a shallow nod, then looked to one side. He didn't really want to talk about it so candidly, as in doing so, it would further solidify just how little control he had over his life and destiny. Instead, he focused on the more pertinent aspects of their conversation, shifting onto the heels of his feet to turn around and gaze at the remaining stretch of hallway.
"I guess you're right. But what can be done about it? Are we just... stuck here until we figure it out or something?" Saying that made him feel like he was in a video game... again.
no subject
He snorted under his breath and turned to resume his meander down the hallway, leaving it up to Keigo if he wanted to follow or team up. "The decor in this place is really too tacky for anyone to stand." One of the portraits gasped at his audacity, making him smirk back at it.
no subject
And it seemed that Law was going off to do just that. Keigo would have rather preferred to not be alone in the hall with portraits resembling his mother, even if the guy wasn't the friendliest. He didn't seem keen on beating him up or anything like that, which was a plus.
"Hey, I'm coming with you!" he shouted, trotting up alongside the other man. "You seem to know your stuff and I don't want to be by myself, so!" Explaining his decision wasn't necessary, but he felt it was better off than just silently going along with things.
no subject
At least, with another person alongside him, it seemed like the portraits weren't sure which one to focus on, and so didn't take on any more familiar faces. Most of them just sort of glared at the two men walking along the hall. Law patted himself down as if hoping to find something in his pockets that wasn't there the last time he checked, and then rubbed his bandaged arm. "Well. Can you do anything?" he wondered vaguely of his new traveling companion. Keigo could take that any way he wanted. "I may not have my sword but I still have my ability, so there's that."