
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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Once he beats this game. Wormmon tugs on his pant leg: real or not, that butler is creeping the Digimon out. ] Ken-chan, let's go....
[ Ken shakes his head. All right. A game. A murder mystery game. They have to solve the mystery to beat it. And then get Hikari back to her city with a ramen shop.
He smiles, addressing her. ] That sounds nice.
Will you help me?
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Un!
I promise to do my best to help, Ken-san. With whatever you need.
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[ And then he's all business, surveying the "crime scene". ] If it's a game, they have to have left us clues. Look for anything out of place.
[ Like this jump rope. Is it the murder weapon? Ken steels himself to examine the corpse. Wormmon tries to help, but when Ken kneels by the "body", Wormmon ends up squeaking in fear and climbing up Ken's back to bury his head in Ken's jacket.
Poor Wormmon. Ken vows to be quick. ]
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[That gave Hikari an idea.]
If you're scared... [She addressed the little digimon directly.] I can hold you. If you want, of course. I'll make sure you don't have to see it.
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[ Ken presses his lips together so he won't smile out of turn. Wormmon is patient with him when Ken gets like this, isn't he? Wormmon always gives him space to accept his own weaknesses at his own pace. So he has to do the same for Wormmon.
Picking up his partner, he offers him to Hikari. ] Why don't you look together?
[ This seems to placate Wormmon, who is fine with this if Hikari is. ]
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You're even lighter than Tailmon!
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[ Things seem managed on that end. Ken turns his attention to the body, trusting Hikari and Wormmon to comb the area for other clues. Ascertaining the cause of death should direct the rest of the investigation, shouldn't it....?
...He checks the neck first. Maybe it's paranoia, but even in a game, he doesn't like waking up holding a rope weapon next to a "dead body". ]
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[She asked out of genuine curiosity. He was hovering over the body, looking for something, but beyond that, she couldn't begin to guess.]
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[ Ken's fingerprints are already on the jump rope, and it fell due to his dropping it, so he doesn't feel bad about disturbing this part of the crime scene. He holds it up for Hikari to see the pattern of the weave on the rope part. ] If he'd been hurt by this, it'd leave a mark, right?
[ And the man's skin is unburned. Hence - this is a red herring, not the murder weapon!
What a relief. ]
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[She stepped around the body, coming to stand on the opposite down. Peering down at both the rope and the area of skin which Ken indicated towards. He was right. There was no mark.]
So...that's not the murder weapon.
Does he have any mark on him? Umm...like a stab wound? Or gunshot? Maybe he was poisoned?
[Trying to think back to all the murder mystery tropes. For all they knew, it could have been a candlestick.]
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[ And thus, very close inspection of the "corpse" is necessary. Ken has to pause, steeling himself to lift the body and look at it close-up. If this is a game, it's very good at simulating reality.....better than reality had been when he'd thought it was a game.
He swallows, hating himself for pausing. ]
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...you're very brave, you know.
[To get so close.]
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[ Ken blinks, solving the mystery of what the word "brave" means in this context first.
He's pretty sure the detective isn't supposed to color and blink and avert his eyes upon solving it, but here he is. ] Ah.....
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[To elaborate on her reasoning.]
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How to explain? It's not that he isn't scared, it's just that he....And besides, she's plenty brave herself - the only time they spent any extended time in danger together, he'd been mostly useless...but this Hikari hasn't experienced that yet...
So Ken's shoulders twitch and he almost smiles, but not quite. ] W-we have to solve the mystery, right...?
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Mmhmm! [She nodded, and there was something about his reaction to her words that fueled her all the more. Enough for her to lean forward just enough to point to something.] Would that help, maybe? There's something funny on his sleeve.
[A stain. One which would carry a particular scent to it. Like almonds, only bitter.]
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[ Ken checks. It takes him a moment before he thinks to sniff it, but then, he frowns. ] Poison.
[ That would explain the lack of marks on the body. He stands up. ] Is there food or drink around here?
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[It was hard to see. There didn't appear to be anything. Not on the floor. Not on any of the furniture. Not under--]
Ah! [Then again...there was something...that looked like...] There. Under the table on the other side. It looks like there's something under there.
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[ All right. Only one way to know for sure. Ken gets down on all fours to crawl under the table. Wormmon, watching, colors in shame. ] Ken-chan...
[ He's so dedicated. And here's Wormmon, small enough to easily fit but getting squeamish. ]
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Are you okay? Is something wrong?
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Wormmon...
[ Ken sits back on his heels. Then he scoots out of the way. ]
Would you two like to check?
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Okay.
[She knelt down, making sure that Wormmon was carefully placed on the ground and out of the way before she lowered her upper body all the way to get a good look underneath.]
There's...a red thing. Like a ball. [An Apple] Wormmon...do you think you can reach all the way under there?
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[ Over he wiggles. Ken waits, a repressed smile on his face - Wormmon is being so brave - until the Digimon returns. ] Somebody littered, Ken-chan...
Don't get that near your mouth.
[ And Wormmon promptly drops the evidence in fright. Well. Baby steps. That's all anyone can ask of anyone. ]
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[When the apple dropped and rolled towards her, Hikari knelt down and picked it up. By the stem. It twirled around slowly, giving all of them a good look at the giant bite mark on one side.]
Look. I think he was eating this when he fell over.
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...No. Don't get sad about not being sure when you're going to be able to see your mom again, Ken Ichijouji, or worry that you weren't able to call home. Fix this problem first. ] Give it here.
[ They should be careful with this important evidence. ]
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