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
Karl-san, please step to the side.
[ Considering if he does or doesn't, she'll make a run at the window and throw her side into it; if she's not stopped, she'll succeed in getting the window open wide enough for her to fall through, feet up in the air as she lands on her back and has one arm thrown over the outside ledge. If, on the other hand, he stops her, she'll probably only get the window open a few more inches before her running leap is stopped.
Either way, that window is slowly opening. ]
no subject
He doesn't stop her, and so that sure is a little girl falling through the window—immediately, he reaches out to grab her and make an attempt to pull her to safety.]
Whoa! Chihiro!
no subject
I'm fine!
[ She blurts out, one elbow throbbing, but it's not bad and she's feeling scrappy enough. She lifts one hand to wave, giving a light kick of her uncaught foot. See? ]
Thank you. Uh... If we push it a little wider, it should be big enough for you to fit through too.
[ One hand now on the window, she leans into it to demonstrate. Slowly, creaking, it complies, unoiled hinges protesting their abuse as it opens, little by little. ]
no subject
[He's making sure he has a steady grip on her—just the ankle, unfortunately, since his other hand is still holding his halberd—because please do not fall out, Chihiro.]
Do you wanna get into a safer position first?
no subject
[ It's safer because then she's not sprawled? With a hammering heart and a slow drop off from the adrenaline that'd coursed through her with her fall, she shoots him a small smile. She hopes it looks reassuring.
Should he comply, she'll regain her feet, using the frame of the window for balance. She'll then push and pry it open, figuring he'll either be standing guard (look someone's roaming those halls) or help as he's able. ]
Can you fit through? It's wider than I thought it would be.
no subject
It might be a bit awkward, but hmm... I think I can. [The bulk of his armour and carrying his weapon with him at the same time won't make it easy, but it should be doable.] You go on ahead a bit, and I'll see if I can make it.
no subject
Be careful, Karl-san! The leaves out here are slip—
[ With a startled noise, she slips and catches herself against the side of the house proper. Blinking and breathing through her accelerated heartbeat, she finishes what she'd been saying beforehand. ]
Slippery!
no subject
[At this rate, he really is going to get a heart attack, especially what with being on the wrong side of the wall and therefore not in much of a position to help her. Frozen for a moment, he relaxes, albeit just barely.]
Please be careful!
no subject
[ She calls back; she's being as careful as she can be, concentrating on staying balanced as well as moving further down along the narrow balcony. She's well out of the way now for anyone else attempting to follow, one hand braced on the wall and windows as they appear, the other held out to her side for balance. She doesn't appear to suffer any other immediate losses of balance for the moment. ]