ioculus | //TESTDRIVE15.EXE

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!test drive

//TESTDRIVE15.EXE

//testdrive15.EXE

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?

//SCENARIOS.EXE

PHASE I

[ 0215 ] 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. ]

//RUN.EXE

Welcome to Cerealia's fifteenth Test Drive Meme. For your convenience, we have compiled a post detailing everyone's arrival experience and a FAQ that should explain everything in more detail. Please read them thoroughly before playing. Thank you!

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

PHASE II

"Oi! Where or where not my mother is s'got nothin' to do with you, ugly bastard!"

[A deep inhale as Narancia's patience was tested. His bottom jaw jutted out like a monkey as an indignant finger pointed across the hall at another painting. A woman, hands folded over her skirt with grace.]

"'Sides! That's technically her over there! Why don't you ask her where she is if you're so much smarter'n I am, asshole!?"

[What he hadn't expected was for the conversation to actually open up into a three-way affair. In the interest of roasting him further, the woman took on a cruel expression with a saccharine smile. The only word she'd spoken:]

"Dead."

"......................................
......................................."

[Narancia's expression blanched, the pit of his stomach filling with a heavy, oppressive air. His finger drooped, the corner of his left eye jumping up and down in annoyance.]

"Would you like to hear about his father as well? Or, rather, from? A luxury Narancia hasn't been afforded in nearly six years...!"

[He was rolling up invisible sleeves now, digging for the switchblade in his pockets.]

"You wanna say that again, bitch!? I'll rip a hole right in your--"

"Now, is that any way to talk to your mother, young man?"

[He froze, his hand abandoning it's search.]

"S--Sorry, mama..."

[There hadn't been a picture in the room that wasn't laughing at him by now.]

[As Mabel walked along the hallways, all she wanted to go was get out of this place and fast. Wherever this place was, it was giving her major creepy vibes. In fact, it didn't even take her all that long before she started covering her ears! No matter how much she wanted to ignore their words, she couldn't deny that they were starting to get to her.

And yet, she could have sworn she felt something from behind her. There wasn't a ghost around here...was there?]

W-Whose's there? I know you were just here a moment ago! I've got a grappling hook and I'm not afraid to use it!

PHASE I;

[this is ridiculously familiar. ridiculously, ridiculously familiar. everything from the entrance--seeing her home city a destroyed wasteland--to finding herself clutching what appears to be a murder weapon, with absolutely no recollection of how it got in her hand and the person in front of her got killed.

it's almost funny. she almost wants to laugh. almost being the operative term both of those cases.]

N-No, oh n-not this again--!!

[she grumbles under her breath, staring at the large, hardcover novel in her hand. fitting. only syo uses scissors. she shudders, staring down at the body--and it's plainly not syo's handiwork. therefore, not her problem. she shudders at the blood, fighting the nausea that tries to rise in her throat, but it's been a while since bodies have affected her that badly. so, obviously, someone is trying to frame her.

after a brief moment, she drops the book, rolling her eyes and kicking the body for emphasis before grumbling.]

I-I don't have the time for this b-bullshit. Seriously.

-- PHASE 1

[the only unusual thing here is the dinner fork she's holding. oh and— that dead body. right. dead bodies are probably important too. yet Murasa seems more fascinated with the utensil than the corpse, brows scrunched together in confusion and the body ignored for now.

in fact, she's quick to step right over the victim, still turning the bloody fork over in her hands as if there's supposed to be a secret code hidden in the metal. the doors open right then— her head snaps up, and she lowers the incriminating weapon with the body still behind her.]

... Wasn't me.

[yep. she shrugs.]

-- PHASE 2

[arguing with a bunch of portraits sure seems like a productive way to pass the time!! which is why she's doing her best to ignore them. sort of.]

"You were caught redhanded!" "Why are you so nonchalant, you monster?!" "How could you! He did nothing wrong!" [etcetera. etcetera. etcetera.

yet Murasa only scowls and brushes past them, only taking the briefest moments to respond with the same phrases muttered over and over again as she passes each portrait:]

Right, right. Sorry for your loss. Yeah, sorry 'bout it. Too bad for him, right? A real tragedy.

[she's not even defending herself?! though it looks like her patience is steadily wearing thin as the portraits continue to yell at her all the way down the hall. when she spots the first real person, not portrait, nearby, she rushes up to them.]

Hey, you. How do you get 'em to shut up?

[Togo's been watching for a bit now. She was their target earlier.]

Actually, could I convince you to just let them shout at you instead? The only way I've found to get them to quiet down is to sic them on someone else, and you don't really seem to mind them, so you'd be doing the rest of us a big favor.

PHASE I:

[Karl doesn't even really need to think about it—he tosses the encyclopedia in his hand to the side (... this also begs the question of why the heck he'd use that as a weapon when he has a halberd in his other hand), rushes to Mr. Nondescript Corpse, and tries to check for a pulse.]

Hey! Are you okay...!?

[WHO'S THINKING OF MURDERS AND SUSPECTS someone might be dead here :c]

PHASE III:

[Yeaaaaah, no. Karl can't even tell his closest friends his secrets, let alone shout them to a bunch of staircases.

After a lot of futile running, Karl decides that he's had enough. After pressing a hand to his forehead for a moment (because seriously, what is going on and why is it going on)... Well, this is probably one of the most inane things that he's used this power for, but frankly, he's not in the mood for games right now.]

Come out, Felneus!

[A magic circle forms, and then, as per his decree, out comes Felneus, hovering in the air and looking like it's ready to kill something.]

For what purpose do you— [And then it pauses, because wow, there's no enemy to be had here. Karl just points to a doorway up above.] You require my legendary power for something so menial...!?

[Karl, to his credit, at least has the decency to look sheepish.] ... Yup. Sorry about that. Just help me out here for a bit, would you?

[And that's the story of how Karl ended up on the back of a legendary sea dragon so that he could reach a doorway. Before he and Felneus start to move, though, he'll turn to you and smile.]

Need a ride?

PHASE IV:

[NOW WOULD BE A GREAT TIME TO HAVE A GLOWY—

Unfortunately, Karl doesn't happen to have a glowing blob on him, and so he can't see much of anything in the dark. Halberd tight in his grip, he runs. The paranoid feeling doesn't leave him.

When it reaches its peak—or when the footsteps sound a little too close (same difference, really)—he turns and swings his weapon, in turn sending a small torrent of water and bursts of ice down the hallway.

... Yeah, sorry if you also happen to be in that direction. Look, he really can't see anything, okay.]

PHASE I (he's an idiot)

[A box of crayons. There's a dead body before him and he's holding a box of crayons. His heart drops.]

[There's no possible way he could be responsible for this, is there? The crayon box isn't even bloodied (as if that mattered), and here this butler is soaking in a pool of his own blood. This guy was already beyond saving. He could tell that from looking at him alone, his chest gored out enough to show all of his insides— but the more immediate issue is that the killer could be anywhere. Leon drops to one of his knees, using his free hand to close the butler's eyes just as the doors open.

Honestly, he's more worried about the person who just entered than appearing guilty himself. He's holding a crayon box, for Christ's sake. So he's back to his feet in an instant, reaching for the gun he keeps at his waist.]

[Yes, this is what you do in this situation.]

PHASE II (lots of yelling)

real

[Oh, sorry, were you trying to use this hallway? Unfortunately, Leon is busy arguing with every portrait in the hall. This might be easy to walk by at first, but as it heats up and he shouts more nonsense about the real murderer, insists that he did nothing wrong, that he's a detective, it begins to get even more rowdy. His attempts to shove past these nosy paintings is met with them reaching out to grab him.

He's not going in so easily, grabbing onto the wall and forcing himself out of its grip only to stumble across the way and into another one. Eventually, he spots whoever happens to be nearby.]

[ Phase I. ]

[ This is a predicament that Trucy Wright never expected to be in. Everything's happened so fast; literally she'd been in one place, and now she's... she's here. Wherever here is, holding onto a single Ace of Spades card that's got, ironically, a single drop of blood on it. There's blood spatter all over the place and that guy on the ground sure is dead, a slashed throat it would appear. It takes her a few moments at first to really take in her surroundings and the fact that she's holding onto... a murder weapon? A card. She killed someone with a card.

There's no way. She finally makes a rather loud startled noise and drops the card, backing away from the lifeless figure on the ground. She can hear the doors opening with a creak, and she can feel herself starting to panic. She didn't do this. They defend people like this all the time at home, but this isn't home and she's got no idea what's going on. ]

This isn't what it looks like!

[ Phase IV. ]

[ This is way too odd for even her, and that's saying a lot. The talking portraits were kind of cool, but now... now it's just silence. Or rather, it was; someone's crying somewhere and she's got the urge to go and see if they're alright. She freezes at the screaming, though, and then she finds herself in the dark. It takes a lot to scare Trucy, but this is definitely doing the trick.

She's got goosebumps, because she can hear footsteps. She's got no idea where she's going, but she's certainly not sticking around to find out. So off down the hallway she runs. Someone may want to give the magician a hand. ]

[ Bonus. ]

[ This day just keeps getting better and better. Trucy stares at the detective; she's told her story over and over, how she's got no idea what the heck is even going on, but he just keeps finding flaw after flaw in her story. She's nervous, but she refuses to even give a single twitch; she's on her own this time and now she's going to have to take what she's learned from her dad and Apollo and use it to the best of her abilities. ]

Objection! [ Trucy takes the time to point a finger dramatically at the detective in question. ] There's evidence to back up my claims, and I'll prove it right now!

[ She's bluffing probably. That's the best thing she's learned from daddy and Polly. ]

Edited 2016-07-01 01:25 (UTC)

What? No way. They're annoying.

[extra emphasis on annoying. trying to destroy the portraits sounds like a good idea, but vandalism ain't really cool.

she needs to at least know who the owner of this place is before she starts wrecking stuff!!]

What's their problem, anyway? I probably didn't even kill that guy. ["probably"]

[ PHASE II ]
[The portraits are absolutely relentless. Unfortunately so is Jessica herself. She's already thoroughly frazzled from finding herself standing over a body clutching onto a statue that looks suspiciously Slime-like. The lovely jaunt about the compound shortly after hasn't helped either, particularly when the only thing she has been able to find has been rows and rows of paintings that slowly looked more and more familiar.

Anyone will hear the redhead long before they come across her. Her hands are planted firmly on her hips and she's giving this oil painting of some random old man an absolutely livid look. Her voice is firm and sharp in it's bit of a British accent.]

I told you already I had nothing to do with it! What in the world would I gain from killing some random servant?! I wasn't possessed or any such, I would at least remember that! So just lay off already.

[She's very firm about those last words, thank you very much. She huffs out an indignant breath as she straightens up, then turns to walk away.]

What a weird place. First the butler, now the paintings...

[ PHASE III ]
[Then the paintings and now? Now the stairs. And more paintings of course. Jessica is quickly losing her patience after the fifth or so time of going round and round these staircases. She's dead certain they're moving now and stops in her tracks to glare up at the stairs themselves as if she can intimidate them into working properly. And that's when a nearby portrait starts chattering again, though this time with advice

"The stairs are gossips, you know. Why don’t you tell us a little something about yourself? Make it good!"

She pauses, blinking a bit at the portrait.]

Gossips? So what then, I have to tell them some really juicy news?

["Absolutely! The more scandalous and juicy, the better!". Jessica looks quite dubious at this enthusiastic reply.]

... And then they'll behave?

["It's worth a try," states the portrait. It's not really the answer she wants but she doesn't really have a lot of choice here. The redhead stands a moment, trying to fathom up what could possibly be the best bit of gossip about herself. Then she blushes just a little.]

I do like the occasional romance novel now and then. Not often of course but the fairy tale sorts are rather sweet.

[She admits as much in near a mumble and the portrait just sighs in near disgust. "That's juicy to you?"

Jessica's flush spreads as her anger spikes immediately. Once again she's near shouting at a portrait.]

Well pardon me if I don't have any amazing exploits to share with the stairs, you daft bit of canvas!! Why should I be telling either of you anything anyhow?! Just let me through already!

[ WILDCARD ]
[Feel free to throw prompts at me. PM with any questions.]

[Well, it was worth a shot. Togo glances at the shaming shouting portraits.]

I think they're just saying that to annoy you, so if it's annoying, I guess it's working.

Maybe we could take down all the portraits and put them in a stack face down. Or set fire to them.

Free--

[Woah! Mai nearly jolts backwards when she catches just what Leon is doing there, eyes wide and hands shooting up to wave frantically before her.]

Wait! Hold on just a second!

PHASE I;

[ ophelia is found standing next to her deceased butler friend with a paint roller. a really soft, harmless paintroller. of course she also has a tome with her, but it could be mistaken for any kind of book, couldn't it?

she eyes the roller for a moment (what is it???) before dropping it upon sight of the dead butler. ] Sir!!

[ she drops down to his side, searching for signs of life. ]

Oh no! A foul tragedy has befallen my comrade. Mayhaps it has something to do with that strange item... [ it doesn't even occur to her that she's a suspect. because she stands for goodness and heroes only!!

as the doors begin to open, she cries out with a dramatic hand gesture. ] If you are friend, approach and give me aid! If you are foe, come no closer! I will vanquish all who stand against me with the power of my ultimate move: Luminary Uppercut!!

PHASE III;

[ later on, she's wandering the hallways looking at the portraits — some who strangely look like her parents and others from back home but are being awfully rude — still completely oblivious to the fact that she's supposedly a murderer. all she knows is that she needs to get out of here and fast!

the best way to do that is to make allies! ] ... Tell you something about me? Well, alright. I've been working on my lines, so prepare to be amazed!

[ she clears her throat and then continues, gesturing wildly as she speaks in the mightiest tone she can manage. ] I am she who is descended from chosen heroes, daughter of starlight and darkness, a champion of justice and evil-vanquishing! I ... am Ophelia Dusk!

[ so, how was it? the portraits don't have to be the only audience! of course this may just be an embarrassing reminder of a certain someone else she kinda resembles... ]

WILDCARD

feel free to fill in any blanks!

Edited 2016-07-01 01:44 (UTC)

[It's been a long, confusing and terrifying game. But a hope rises in Phoenix's heart when he sees her - Trucy! She has disappeared from the colony not too long ago, but now here she is! In the middle of this weird murder mystery!

...And she's pointing a finger at him. It probably doesn't help that when he was teleported here, it was in a certain suit from a past case which Trucy might have been shown pictures of at some point in the past. In fact, the game may have had some subtle clues pointing towards a certain tiger as the culprit.]

Objection! [It almost breaks his heart to have that finger pointed at him. But Phoenix points right back.] This - this isn't right! And there's no way you could have evidence like that!

[Mai's been bumbling around in the dark herself, the wee little battery she keeps in her pocket having long since run out of juice. Who knew forgetting to change batteries would work out like this? So with one hand against the nearest wall she's taking slow, cautious steps, her ears sharply focused on the sounds around her. Is there someone in front of her? It does sound like footsteps... actually whoever it is seems to be running so she ends up picking up her pace in hopes of getting closer to them. Maybe they can tell her what's going on here after all.

Well, that is until she gets slapped by something distinctly wet. It's like running straight into a fountain and she can't help the few flailing steps she makes as she staggers backwards. Maybe Karl can't see anything but he's bound to hear something. Something that sounds distinctly like a shriek.]

WATER?! WHERE THE HECK DID WATER COME FROM?!

phase i;

[Okay, there are several things wrong with this picture.

One can forgive Jonathan for some level of reasonable confusion, after being pulled into these circumstances so suddenly, but he can't decide whether he should be more distressed at the current moment, or outright perplexed. His initial reaction to the body laying in a heap at his feet is panic and intense concern, crouching down and wondering where on Earth he should feel for a pulse. He's immediately worried that his memory of the past few moments is uncharacteristically blurry, but as he comes to realize he's holding a murder weapon in his palm, the situation only becomes further complicated.]

What is the meaning of this?!

[It's an egg.

He's holding an egg. An unboiled, perfectly intact egg, at that, aside from a blood splatter staining the surface. He may be an archaeology major, but he's been educated enough in physics and the sciences at large to know this situation is just about impossible. And yet...

He's about to further voice how perplexed he is when the doors open up behind him, and he spins around, still holding the bloodied egg and failing to realize this may look somewhat incriminating.]

Is someone there?

phase iv;

[To say that Jonathan is on edge would be a gross understatement. Every step he takes is made with great caution, glancing around the empty hallway for any kindred spirit who isn't about to pronounce him a vagrant or a murderer. His own quiet, rhythmic breathing punctuates the near-silence, and for a moment he thinks he's alone, until--]

S-Someone is crying!

[His footsteps immediately gain purpose as he bounds down the corridor, looking for the source of the noise. In this moment, he has little concern for himself. Whoever else is in this mansion is almost certainly frightened, could be hurt, and he's not about to let any other murders take place.]

Whoever you are, stay safe! I'll be there as soon as I can!

[Then there's a wail, the lights go dark, and Jonathan realizes that he is certainly not alone.

It's at this moment that he's grateful for his years playing rugby in university because his legs are moving underneath him like pistons, and he has a feeling it will be a while before he stops running.]

bonus;

At last, I have uncovered your heinous plot. I can scarcely believe this, and yet...

[The spotlight snaps to Jonathan as he takes the pipe between his fingers. The detective outfit is really quite befitting of him, actually. He paces around the ballroom with his back to you, seeming tense yet conflicted, before turning around with a flourish, his glare burning holes through whoever is unfortunate enough to be his chief suspect.]

All this time, you must have been working against us!

Edited 2016-07-01 01:45 (UTC)

[Why is he even in this weird dusty house, anyway?

At first, there's nothing about this place that brings back any uncomfortable memories for Leon, at least. He's pretty sure it's a ViViD level; that much he's used to. It's CERES jerking them around again. And it's creepy, sure, and he's been getting horror movie vibes off of it since the moment he found himself roaming the hallways, but it's still whatever. There's nothing going on yet. Probably any second some stupid shit is going to happen like usual. He's probably going to swing open these double doors and there'll be a serial killer waiting for him on the other side—

But he didn't expect his idle complainy thoughts to be accurate in quite that way.

He doesn't even notice the corpse at first. Even though he knows CERES is dragging in new people by the month in situations just like this one, he never expects it to be a classmate, and he never gets over the reaction when it is: the breath strangles out of him in a weird-sounding and definitely uncool noise, and he just stares stupidly for a moment, feeling the way his heart jumps up into high gear pumping suddenly-chilly-feeling blood through his veins.

God. It's Fukawa, too. This is going to be screwed up. (It's always pretty screwed up.)]

Yhhhh—Fukawa . . . ?!

[Then he takes in the scene, hovering awkwardly by the double doors, which have already gone and slammed shut behind him.

Oh. There's a dead body.

What?]

[... Wow, that, um, really doesn't sound like someone out to get him. In fact, it sounds an awful lot like he might've just attacked someone completely random and, most importantly, innocent, which is by far and away not a good thing.

On the bright side, it doesn't sound like he hurt her? That, or she has a rather impressive set of lungs for an injured person...]

Ack! I-I'm sorry!

[He may or not may not be cringing in the dark here, before stepping closer towards the sound of the voice.]

Are you okay!?

( That... was not a face she expected to see again for quite some time. She remembered the girl fondly from her time in Ruby City, yet lacked the drive to face her again in this world. Perhaps-- because of the accusations she now faced, what what Integra needed to speak to her again, to erode her mistakes of her past.

Had she not lacked the foresight then, perhaps an innocent child would have not died at the hands of her foes, against Rip van Winkle.

It is here, among the crowd of onlookers, a voice pipes up from the audience. )

It's practically impossible, actually.

Edited 2016-07-01 01:53 (UTC)

[If Mai could see the man, she could possibly level the flat expression she can feel forming on her face at him. As is she ends up squinting into the darkness to try to make out something, then just sighing out when that naturally doesn't work.

Watch out there, she may just be brushing water off of her and flinging it everywhere. Not that this portion of hallway is particularly dry though.]

I'm fine, just a little wet.

[A little. Now she brushes at her hair, fluffing up the rough bob cut as she talks.]

That was so weird. I was just standing here and then suddenly bam, water! It didn't get you too, did it? Maybe the roof is leaking?

[Then again she couldn't hear any rain.]

[ If he thinks she doesn't feel bad enough about this, he's wrong. She'd been overjoyed to see him, but this... this isn't looking too good for either one of them. As a matter of fact, she's half hoping this is all just some big, elaborate prank he's pulling, and confetti will come raining down and someone will come out and point at a camera and tell her she's on TV.

That's not happening, though. Everything is adding up, at least in her mind -- and he's wearing that really dumb, ridiculous outfit. Why is he wearing that? There'd been evidence... but he wouldn't do something like that, and neither would she.

She's still pointing at him, but there's really not a lot of fight in it. ]

Hold it, daddy! First off, why are you wearing that outfit? Secondly, I do have evidence! And it's the murder weapon itself! I know you, and I know you well. You didn't do this, and neither did I! It's not like either one of us to go and kill someone!

[ Finally, she drops her pointed finger and slides the murder weapon -- the Ace of Spades card -- forward. ]

Has this been examined for fingerprints? Are we sure this is even really the murder weapon here? It's got one drop of blood on it. Shouldn't at least one edge have blood on it, too?

phase iii;

[Navigating this stairwell isn't easy, navigating this stairwell with a Charizard proves to be even harder. Left and right...up and down. Is there any end to this? Probably not, no. That was way too easy. Alain finds himself growing more and more agitated with each step.

The suggestion of the portraits? To share gossip with the stairs. As if. No one could ever pay him enough to share a single thing about himself to an inanimate object.]

Tell the stairs something? You have to be kidding.

[No, the portraits are not kidding. And yes— he is definitely being unnecessarily stubborn. He is also definitely trying to doom himself to becoming a stair golem for the rest of his life.]

wild card;
[Bring me a prompt!]

[ odin is likewise wandering the hallways. to be quite honest, he's tired of this aimless wandering. he's done enough of that in his younger days that he'd really just rather always know where he's going.

he's about to introduce himself when he hears the telltale signs of a heroic introduction. he pauses and listens, rapt with attention. what... zeal! what strength! this is truly the heroic introduction of legend! ]

That was quite an introduction, if I do say so myself!

Huh?

[What... it's just some little girl?? Well, she couldn't be the problem here, with these wounds. So he drops his hand back to his side, only clutching the crayon box now.]

You probably don't wanna be in here right now. [It's gruesome!!] Did you see anyone come out of those doors?

[when the door swings open, she startles, throwing her arm up in front of her face as though to protect herself from whoever the incomer is. some sort of murderer, probably, or a monokuma--but she doesn't have any sort of weaponry, which would mean she has to--ugh, and does she even have her taser?

such thoughts are cut short when she sees who's on the other side of the door.]

K-Kuwata! Y-Y--You're--

[she drops her hands just the slightest bit, though they're still crossed over her face and chest, just in case he turns out to be dangerous. he did kill maizono, after all.]

W-What are you d-doing here? You--m-murderer! A-Are you the one who f-framed me? I-If so, what a--s-sloppy job you've done!!

[she snorts. and then she pauses.

does he even know about syo? oh...boy. she just won't say anything about that particular...quirk.]

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//TESTDRIVE15.EXE

NARANCIA GHIRGA | JOJO'S BIZARRE ADVENTURE

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Touko Fukawa | Dangan Ronpa

minamitsu murasa | touhou project

Phase 2

karl | brave frontier

Leon Orcot | Petshop of Horrors

Trucy Wright | Ace Attorney

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Jessica Albert | Dragon Quest 8

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Phase I

ophelia | fire emblem: fates

Bonus

Phase III

jonathan joestar | jojo's bizarre adventure

YOOOOOOOOO

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Phase I | S'uuuuuuuuuuup.

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Alain | Pokémon

screams also iii

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CHESTBUMPS U