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.
[ 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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no subject
For the time being, he files away Gilles' reaction over that very particular saint. An instinctive reaction from a creature so very used to torturing. Seek the soft spots, then press them when it hurts the most.]
Oh please. [He lets out a tiny little breath -not the least interested- his holier than thou look very much angelic and an awkward match to Gilles' sassy winking. Did the room just got warm?] I would like to see you try.
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Would you? Maybe I'll be generous enough to show you. I've never met an angel I wouldn't fight.
[Although he hasn't launched himself at Kevin in an attack just yet. Partly because of his familiarity with this particular angel, and partly because of the unfamiliarity of this place.]
I wouldn't worry about me, when you're the one more likely to harm a hair on his head. Or his whole head.
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[Not that he would ever hesitate to invade Dantalion's territory again. Why, he is practically a local at this point.
Besides, Kevin may share Gilles' familiarity problems. Though he would never say that aloud, there is something definitively awkward about attacking straight away someone you saw wearing a maid dress...for your boss, no less. Speaking of which...]
That will not be necessary. I will never allow you ruffians to have him again.
[Not that he would allow heaven to touch young master either, he has come to realize. Kevin fully intends to keep the young man under his overzealous wing no matter what.]
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[Typical! So what if he's manipulative and deceitful? Since when are those negative traits for a demon? And Heaven isn't any different, just more hypocritical.]
What do you know about my orders? Not a thing. Don't go inserting your pretty nose where it doesn't belong.
[He waves his free hand at Kevin dismissively. Really, he should attack the angel, but he is used to encountering Kevin in the calmer atmosphere at the school. And he doesn't see how he'll further his plans by fighting him now. He wants to, but... maybe he'll wait and see what's going on. A better opportunity may arise.]
What I mean is, he's in more danger from you than me! I know what you types are like. You can't be trusted.
no subject
[No similarities to heaven at all!
But wait, Kevin is suddenly on Gilles' personal space.]
My type is the the type that will scorch you to the ground if you ever use him again. Delegating, manipulating, following orders, pastime...I do not care how you call it, demon. I do not care about your games.
[That cold, obsessive and most likely insane rage? Gilles may or may not recognize it for what it is.
Love.
He pulls away and finally turns his back to the demon. He could threaten Gilles all day, but he can't deny the fact that they have reached some sort of truce.
It's kind of mortifying, really.]
Follow me. It is better for him to know you are here than being surprised by your shameless face.
no subject
[This isn't the most accurate description of what happened... Gilles is, of course, untrustworthy, but if he is going to backstab, he (usually) needs a suitable reason to make the effort.
When Kevin gets in his personal space, Gilles gets right back in Kevin's, leaning in toward him. Love? He doesn't care about an angel's love. It's worthless.]
I have no idea what you're going on about. Don't you people know how to do anything but threaten and lie? Oh wait, you can also destroy, that's right. And make everyone miserable. That's what you do best.
[In a fit of angel-inspired irritation, Gilles (hugging his heavy model Eiffel Tower) floats up into the air and crosses his legs in haughty irritation.]
I don't take orders from angels, in case you forgot! I don't know what gives you the idea that you can speak to me in that manner!
[He's very stubborn. He would quite possibly follow Kevin if Kevin went somewhere, but he's not going to do what an angel tells him to, just like that. It's a matter of principle. Still, some kind of truce must be in effect, as he's still not attacking.]
I'm honestly LOLing here. :')
[Kevin's own view of Gilles' personal drama is that he became a psychopathic douche and then a psychopathic demon because Michael exalted his lady friend. Oh well, those things happen, especially whenever Michael is involved.
Oh wait, you can also destroy, that's right. And make everyone miserable. That's what you do best. The accusation unsettles him more than Gilles' completely unnecessary proximity (it doesn't matter that Kevin started it). Sadly, destroying and making everyone miserable is actually a quite accurate description of Uriel's job.
He points at the annoying buffoon holding the weird tower.]
Now you are just being contrarian! You know you will seek him.
[The truth is, Master William misses home, and Gilles - annoying, mercurial and completely demonic Gilles - is part of home too.
Kevin's duty is to provide what young master wants. And he is secretly happy that his more mundane duties don't involve destroying and making everyone miserable. Usually.]
I'M GLAD, me too!
[Well... Kevin's not entirely wrong. But as far as Gilles is concerned, he should keep his dumb angel opinions to himself! Because no one else cares about them. And someone is going to pay for what was done to Jeanne. Sometime.
And as far as Gilles is concerned, that's angels in a nutshell! Misery-making misanthropes! But nonetheless, he's annoyed when Kevin assumes all demons are the same. Because that's not the same as assuming all angels all the same.]
Don't be paranoid. I'm not even qualified to rule Hell! What do I want with him?
[He's still thinking about that ring, actually... Gilles clutches the tower more tightly, holding it as if it's a balloon that's keeping him aloft instead of the hunk of heavy metal that it is. He sticks his tongue out at Kevin.]
Just because Baalberith is always babbling about the elector this, the elector that—that doesn't mean Gilles de Rais cares.
[(Or does he?)
Engaging in banter with a familiar face may be a little fun. Not that he'd admit it out loud. But he'd been reduced to talking to paintings before Kevin had arrived.]
no subject
He smoothly grabs a smallish - and still talking - painting of Charles VII and throws it at the floating Frenchman. There!]
Do not hide behind your bloody owner, you foul coward! Your kind is drawn to Solomon's powers like bats to a candle flame!
[All right, so it is also a case of Solomon being drawn to demons. And it should have been moths instead of bats. But his point still stands!]
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I—can't stand traitors—!
[And he does attack—but his taget it the portrait, not Kevin. He strikes it with a bolt of energy. It catches fire and burns away to ash very quickly. Gilles turns to Kevin with a grin. See? They're bonding. But he quickly remembers that he has no reason to smile at angels, and his expression shifts into a frown.
That was satisfying, though. Too bad it wasn't the real Charles.]
I may be a coward, but I'm not the one who keeps running after him, making him tea, ironing his pajamas, fixing his hair...
[Gilles is a bit vague on Kevin's duties, because he, quite frankly, doesn't care.]
...I'm just not that interested in him!
[He's going to repeat the sentiment, because it made Kevin react.]
no subject
Though it is not like he ever liked Charles anyway. What with his annoying habit of waging war against England.]
Attending to Master William's needs is a great honor! And you are lying through your teeth. [Kevin points an urgent finger at Gilles. The perfect picture of paranoia.] If you are so uninterested why do you refuse to follow me and meet him in my presence? You're obviously hiding your diabolical inten--!
[He is interrupted by the very perceptive scent of something burning. Oh dear, the other portraits have been set aflame. Was it just the fiery remains of Charles' painting ruining a perfectly nice moment just like the original Charles would? Or was it just a side effect of Kevin's perfectly justifiable outrage? It has been so long since he last met one of his demons! Young master and Kevin were demon-free here. Why must they always ruin everything?
He will blame Charles for finding himself in a completely unnecessary conflagration. And Gilles. Because he can.]
Now, look at what you have done!
no subject
I'm not going to follow you, because I will never follow an angel anywhere! It's beneath me! What difference does having you there make, anyway? Are you going to serve him a crumpet to protect him?
[Gilles strikes a dramatic pose in mid-air, balancing the tip of the Tour Eiffel on his pointer finger.]
It's not that I can't understand why you'd be afraid. I am formidable, I know.
[He turns to see the flames rising. Hm. He hadn't intended to have that happen. But he's not exactly sorry. He likes seeing things catch on fire. And they were his annoying relatives and associates. He smirks.]
Me? I'm sure that was your doing! As I said, you can't help but spread destruction wherever you go!
[Pin-the-blame-on-the-angel is a fun game.]
no subject
[Oh dear, maybe he sounded a little more defensive than he had intended to. But back to the point, heaven representative can defend young master's honor until they are both roasted. Probably. He would rather leave. It is getting stuffy here.]
You are a demon and you live in hell. I'm quite certain there are not many things beneath you. Besides, you don't need to follow me if that makes you insecure about your evilness, you infantile old man! We can merely walk towards young master's location.
[A location only Kevin knows about, but details. He smoothly dodges to avoid a flaming and screaming Duke of Brittany, before grumbling under his breath:]
...I bet twenty credits you haven't even left ViViD yet.
no subject
[Everything is the fault of angels, in case you didn't realize that, Kevin! Gilles glares at him knowingly, at that defensive tone.]
I am rather high up in hell.
[He is the wonderful and amazing Gilles de Rais.]
And the least of demons is above you! You, calling me old? That's a laugh! I'm not unspeakably ancient.
[And Gilles does laugh, but in an aggressive way that doesn't speak to much amusement on his part.]
Obviously, I will have to keep an eye on you. Since you can't be trusted.
[If he's keeping an eye on the angel for his own reason, then it doesn't count as following his orders. But he isn't going to walk. He's floating along, instead.]