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@sleepymeele
Morgue: Daryan, Matt, Lana, and Luke LKW: Dee, Redd, Cammy, and Mimi Crime Scene: Alita, Yanni, Morgan
All room clues have been sent out. Again, some of the names on the general room descriptions may be wrong because of my aforementioned editing error, and I offer my apologies for any inconvenience this may cause.
Good luck with your investigations, dear guests.
press f to pay respects
It’s not something that makes a lot of sense— the way she had convinced herself that no one else would die. Not even Cammy herself quite understood how she’d managed to delude herself into thinking that just maybe, all of this was some elaborate prank, beginning and ending with the death of Kristoph Gavin. Not that there is a single person who would go through all the effort of stealing them away just for a prank. It hadn’t stopped her from hoping, though.
Hope hadn’t kept anyone alive— Furio was still lying dead, and everyone was still terrified. Hope hadn’t done shit for anyone. Sure, Cammy hadn’t loved him, it’s kind of a stretch to think anyone had. He was uncooperative and aggressive, but he was still a person— still one of them. And now… he was dead.
Hope in a situation like this is insidious— alluring, but ruinous all the same. Hope isn’t going to keep her alive, or get her safely through the doors of the mansion at the end of all this. Cammy is the only person that can save Cammy now— her and her own two hands and her own brain.
And she was going to survive— no matter what.
Investigation Start
After Shelly finished his piece, dinner was a tense affair. Luke had gone a pasty white, his eye glass clattering to the table as he read and reread the word on his card. Furio nearly punched a hole in the dining room wall, bellowing “You don’t know who you’re fuckin wit!” before storming out, his dinner only half-finished.
Lana had sat mute, unsure sure whether she should be relieved, angry, or some combination of the two. She almost wanted to offer consolation but she doubted it would be taken kindly- more likely, they’d see it as contempt or even pity.
With a clap of his hands, Shelly draws their attention once again. “Ladies and gentlemen, now that the issue of rooms has been settled, I do believe it is time for us to retreat for the night-“
“Like, no way!” Mimi scoffs, taking the words out of several people’s mouths.
Morgan purses her lips haughtily. “I agree. Don’t you think it’s unfair for the rooms to have been divided in such a way? A lady like myself needs proper bedrest.”
“Funny, I don’t see any ladies around here,” Daryan mutters, and Morgan turns to scowl at him. Lana could only shake her head at how much attitude they were still able to have, considering they had just been told someone would be murdered tonight. Alita and Cammy had left as soon as Shelly made his suggestion, claiming that they wanted no part of the ruckus, and Yanni left soon after.
“I mean, it’s not so bad, right guys?” Matt says, shrugging his shoulders.
Mimi glares at him. “Of course you wouldn’t be bothered, you got first pick. How do we know Mr. Killer over here isn’t biased, anyway?”
“H-hey, if he was biased I probably would have lost, right?”
“Or maybe he’s faking you out…” Redd muses, surprisingly contemplative.
“What about the body?” Dee asks, deftly sidestepping the argument. “I hope you do not expect any of us to share a space with a corpse.”
Shelly shakes his head. “I will dispose of all victims appropriately, and restore any tarnished spaces. Please do not concern yourself with such trivial things.”
Lana wasn’t sure the issue of a dead body could be called trivial, but Shelly’s placid face prevented any further questions.
The conversation died down soon afterward and everyone scurried to their rooms, locking and barricading doors in an attempt to keep the killer out. Even though they had been told Luke and Furio were the next targets, all they had to go on was the word of an assassin- hardly a trustworthy source. She had half the nerve to confront the group and impose some kind of buddy system, but she doubted it would go well. None of the group seemed to even want to cooperate, instead choosing to keep their distance. Talking casually in the open was taken as a threat to the house, so hushed meetings in corridors and speaking through the cracks of barely opened doors were quickly becoming the mansion’s norm. Strangely, she felt almost at ease. It reminded her of the competitive atmosphere in the prosecutor’s office, a sight she sorely missed after months in prison.
She slept poorly that night, just as she had the night before. She kept the card ensuring her safety sealed away underneath her pillow- if she managed to escape this nightmare, she could have Ema examine it for fingerprints or other identifying information. She had been in a melancholic state ever since the events at Hazakura Temple, but maybe the intrigue of a new case would help get her out of it.
Keep reading
Faceless
Murder 1 Reveal
“And it appears, ladies and gentlemen, that our investigation has come to its natural conclusion.” Shelly de Killer announces to all, cutting through multiple thick layers of tension, blissfully unaware (or perhaps unconcerned) with the feelings of those in this unnatural group. He had removed his headset, so his voice was no longer the distorted cacophony of false voices, but the raspy, whispery tone of his real voice was not much better. Once everyone had returned from their respective investigations, they were all left standing in the foyer once again.
It was rather unsettling how Shelly always seemed to be cloaked in the long shadows of the estate, his appearance a grostege visage of some kind of calculated beast. That, and there was something chilling about investigating what looked to be an abandoned mansion with a dozen con artists, creeps, and killers.
Morgan Fey was sure that she could not be defined as any of those slanderous terms, and figured herself to be far above the rest.
“How dreadful,” Morgan simpers as the twelve so-called guests follow their host to the large dining room, faces carefully blank to conceal the nature of their investigations.
Morgan herself knew that the only way to survive such a drastic night would be to hold her head up high and pretend to be a dainty little thing, perhaps even a mother figure in order to deflect off any suspicion that could be thrown maliciously her way. She cursed her lousy genes, and wished that she had been more inclined to inherit the Fey Clan’s psychic abilities. In a bizzare night like tonight, she was going to need all the help she could get. Not only was she forced to share a space with eleven other individuals, but once again she was surrounded by murderers and fiends.
(She, of course, had never considered herself accountable for any crime, so to find herself so cruelly locked away had broken her poor maiden’s heart.)
Resisting the urge to grimace in an un-ladylike fashion, Morgan could feel a pair of eyes glaring at her back. Turning around, she smiled sweetly at Mimi Miney, a familiar face from a past endeavour that had ended in failure. Miserable wretch.
“Try not to appear so cold,” Shelly’s voice crackled with amusement. “I am sure you will have much time to share your findings and introduce yourselves to your peers… if you have not already been acquainted.”
Morgan nearly laughed. What a shrewd fellow, mocking her quite bluntly. She had no real interest in getting to know these people. In prison she was told that she did not play well with others. And yet, socialization was an obligation in this place, wasn’t it? Not only did she have to think about the body that had become the centerpiece of the foyer, but there were other questions that now came to mind. Where they supposed to sit around in a circle and share sweet stories of the good old days as they waited to be slaughtered one after the other? Perhaps they were to feed off of the dust and the memories of their past as they starved to death?
“The hell is that supposed to mean!” The spiky fellow growls with rage, his voice a loud and awful thing. Furio Tigre had quickly made himself an annoyance.
“Clearly you lack understanding. Zvarri!” Luke says smugly, earning himself glares. “I will solve this in a fortnight!”
“You can’t expect us to stay here and actually take part in this madness!” the prim woman with the shrill voice pouts angrily. Alita Tiala would have been another nuisance even if she hadn’t won the ridiculous riddle challenge.
Lana, Yanni, Cammi, and Daryan all stayed close to the wall, watching with their beady little eyes. Did they think they were above this? Morgan found herself more annoyed with the silent ones then those who were outspoken.
“Now, now!” The boastful voice of a man who should not speak fills the room. “This is no time to be cowardly, my good fellows. No one ever got ahead in life by sitting idle!” Redd offers a thumbs up to the room.
Matt was one minute away from having a conniption. “We’re all going to die, he’s going to kill us all…” he mutters, managing to sound as pathetic as he looks. Utterly disgraceful.
Morgan smooths her hair behind her ear, holding her hands up in a placating manner “Children, children, please don’t bicker. We should make the best of this, don’t you think?”
Mimi snorts in disgust at her maternal act.
“This bores me. I would like to skip the commercial break and move towards the next segment.” Dee drawls, with her usual lack of tact. If this wasn’t a game of life and death, Morgan would have been inclined to befriend such a woman. It was no secret that she had well made connections within prison; there were no lack of funds or cigarettes in her presence. If only…
Shelly motions towards the dining room. “For now, sit and appreciate the meal I have prepared tonight. It is the first of many meals we will have together, and I assure you it is edible.”
“Could you imagine if it was poisoned?” Cammy folds her arms across her chest. “That would be, like, totally wild.”
Daryan throws himself into a seat at the head of the table, eyeing the others suspiciously. “I wouldn’t doubt it.”
Shelly chuckles lowly. “That would be far too easy. Regardless, by now you all have submitted your theories as to how this crime happened. My client and I have looked over your work and judged you accordingly. You should all have received a letter in your bed prior to being seated, yes?” He waits for a few nods before proceeding. “It is a warning from my client- if you did well on your case, you will be spared from elimination in the next round. But those of you who did poorly… should be very scared indeed. Now, it is time for me to reveal what really took place.”
Keep reading
Accusations
Luke: 3 Morgan: 2 Daryan: 1 Furio: 1 Lana: 1 Dee: 1 Alita: 1
Some of you failed to accuse anyone, how disappointing. Do try to remember for next time, it gives me great pleasure to watch you all point fingers blindly.
[ things to so instead of solve cases ]
This is what the right to remain silent looks like
Cases are due Friday, May 11 at 11:59 PM PST. Please submit your case to The House via DM.
You are welcome to submit your cases earlier, of course. If you need an example of what a case should look like, please feel free to ask.
I neglected to mention this, but you will also be required to accuse someone of being the killer. This will not have an effect on how your case is judged, and any member of the house is fair game. Best of luck, my dear guests.
Investigation End
As the night dwindled away into a chill morning, Dee Vasquez could not believe how utterly tasteless this script was.
As a producer, this entire ordeal was one of the most haphazard pieces of writing Dee had ever seen. The murder was tasteless. The cast was far too dynamic for her preferences, and it seemed that there was zero consideration to budget when it came to furnishing this destestiable mansion. One of the only saving graces of this filler episode was that their captor had done them the favour of supplying them with their belongings from prison storage, so the inmates who had been subjected to this cruel writer’s fest would not be forced to wear tacky prison garbs for the duration of their stay.
Luckily for her, Dee had been given the few cigarettes that she had owned when she had been imprisoned months ago for her murder of Jack Hammer. Chewing one now, she was impatient to find a flame more fiery than her muse to light her smoke. Her patience was thin, but her resolve to keep her comments to herself showed her true willpower. There was a thing called karma after all.
There was much she could say about each character. Matt Engarde had flare but was far too casual to be a protagonist. The loud ace detective Luke was a cartoon villain at best. The musician and ex-detective Crescend? A devious Gary Stu. Redd White was every cliche she could think of wrapped into a one-hour Christmas special. She had little appreciation for Morgan’s sly, supposedly crafty monologues. Nor was she moved by Lana’s stoic spirit. Cammy was clearly a work in progress never completed, and Mimi was far too fickle to have any interesting personality traits. Yanni irked her with his lackadaisical characterization, and Furio bastardized what she believed to be a strong Jersey accent. Alita seemed to be another pointless side character, but her quick victory in the riddle challenge caused Dee to pause. Finally, their host Shelly de Killer (honestly, what a gauche pseudonym for an assassin) was so unbearably stereotypical that her gums throbbed at the audacity. She only wished she could have burned the script to draft it anew.
Keep reading
[i feel so at one with cammy when i rp her while in bed lying]
Alita Tiala has won the riddle challenge.
