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Day 7: The Clock Strikes Down

At the end of day seven, the world seemed to stop. Like a clock winding down, the hours grew longer and longer until, finally, the twelfth never ended. But that mattered little for those who were trapped within: a few remaining guests, servants with nerves wearing thin, a figure who watched on with a letter clutched in her hand. 

The letter promised, in the sweetest of words, that that which brought them there - the blackmail of course - was soon to be purged. Though the crumpled state of the letter, now clutched tightly in her hands, and the set look of horror seemed to say that that offer was now void. 

Indeed, a game had been set, at least in this world, where the host had decided to be benevolent for once. Choosing those she thought least likely to have done it, she had manufactured a ruse that was more of a test. What would they do? Would they prove themselves guilty or innocent?

Someone had been very, very guilty. And she didn’t know who. 

But the game was over, the world was frozen. And with the killer escaping, the chapter began to end. 

The players were returned, and the invisible hands pulling the strings, looking the characters over this way and that, seemed to finally be at rest. Though the eyes with which had looked upon the game left a lingering feeling of distrust, as though at any moment, the people who’d survived, might be pulled back.

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Day 6: Death In The Night

Another death had occurred. With no smell of breakfast in the halls, the servants grew worried that another of their members had expired. And, much to their horror, in his very room, lay the cook. Dead as can be. 

For gameplay, there are (3) day and (1) night actions. Keep in mind this is the second to last day and tomorrow is the end. Tomorrow will have a fewer number of actions, so keep that in mind.

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Day 5: Another Day Dawns

When the residents of the house awoke, they counted themselves lucky to be of the same number they had before. Though all the more concerned with why the police had not arrived yet - and perhaps a little concerned as to what they would do when they got there. 

A letter did arrive, according to the cook - who had been outed by Larei as delivering the letters - which stated that the host was, in fact, bringing police. And soon, the blockage in the road would be removed. 

Some cheery news for some, despite the rain of the day. 

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Revealed Information

“The cook is the one receiving the letters from the supposed host now” - Ms. Larei. 

This information is now common knowledge and a submitted clue.

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Journal Entry: November 18

My hands shake as I write today, the latest tragedy hitting too close to home. Susan, a fellow nurse whom I have worked with before on some EMS cases, was also a guest here. She found it odd that the two of us were among the invitees, and I agreed. Susan was practical … she assumed she’d been asked to attend for medical purposes … I wasn’t brave enough to ask if anything strange had been in her letter. But it’s too late now. I am convinced there is a killer among us, and they struck again … if Susan ended her life as their target, then who’s to say I’m not next? 

I should leave, I should just pack my bags and run, and take my chances with blackmail … but if I can help discover the truth, and stop this monster … Oh, I’m no detective—I’m a mess!

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Dear Diary:

I’m not sure why I’m still here. Or how. There’s a sour taste in my mouth that’s less to do with the alcohol I’ve been consuming and everything to do with the strange goings-on…

The only thing I trust is you, as always. The unbiased bystander; the harmless participant. I should use you better.

I should use many things better. Things, not people.

I fear I put Eiel at risk, sending him to watch Basil as I did…how convenient, for the good “father” to pick the perfect vantage point from which to watch the house in its entirety. Well, a good vantage point–if not the most ideal. Subtle and out of the way. And an excellent alibi for a solitary man.

Misplaced kettles; poison, all manner of things that go bump in the night–it’s as if we’re being haunted by something here. Or we would be, were I the type to believe in ghosts who could actually harm the living. Haunt, yes, but not necessarily harm. 

We do that to ourselves.

Basil was visited by that quiet woman; Elisa–along with a servant who was most grievously affected by the happenings…I myself stayed far from there, waiting for Eiel’s return and doing a little digging of my own.

It seems the good cook has been the one retrieving letters–supposedly because they are delivered in the morning. But by whom? Has no one seen our host…? A host who claims the police will be called–as soon as a convenient roadblock is removed. Are there no other roads? We did not all arrive simultaneously, not from the same direction, so…

Why all of us? Why any of this?

And now–

Someone else has died. I can’t–fathom it. It’s terrifying. It’s enough to drive a woman to drink. At least I wasn’t there to see–her unfortunate end. 

Poison; now a fall–perhaps the second is an unfortunate accident…God, but I know better. 

I know better.

I dismiss Eiel for the time being–to rest. 

It is my turn to follow Basil to the chapel.

Perhaps the good priest would like to be the one to confess for a change.

See you soon, dear diary. I promise.

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Day 4: Extended

Hey, friends.

It looks like today has been shit for a lot of people. I’m hoping people have better days tomorrow, and lots of good things come their way. You all deserve it. 

I’m extending day four to today (what would be day 5) as well, give people time to submit actions if they want, maybe settle and write. Whatever helps make it easier on people. 

Love you all.

.A. 

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Day 4: Trouble Abounds

Not but a day after the murder of the poor butler, but a noise wakes those slumbering - or out and about. 

Glass shatters, footsteps echo. 

And there on the pavement, one Nurse Susan, blood pooling around her.

Another murder within forty-eight hours. And no note from the host as of yet. What is to become of the guests, only time will tell. 

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Dear Diary…

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A shrill, piercing scream woke the fitfully slumbering nurse with a shock. Her instinct to help in the face of a crisis pushed aside her own fear, and she threw a coat on over her nightgown, rushing to the scene of the chilling sound, unbothered to collect her hair from its currently loose, frazzled state. 

Still not overly familiar with the house, and somewhat dazed, it took her a few minutes to locate the site from which the cry originated, but when she arrived at the butler’s quarters, she found the shaking servant girl and the motionless man on the bed. 

“Is he …” she began to ask, but the look on the girl’s face and a closer vantage of the body answered the incomplete query for her. He was, indeed, dead.

Milena couldn’t claim to have known him more than by his name and demeanor—he’d been in perfectly good health the day before, hadn’t he?—but the butler’s startling passing seemed to foretell only more complications for herself and the other guests.

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Stranger and the Strangers

There was a tension among the guests. He quite assumed their invitations had all been of a–invasive sort. Despite the pleasantries, it was clear that none of them were as interested in each other as what the house presented them. It suited him well enough, though the thinning of the crowd had him on edge.

It would be harder to hide among even the flashiest of guests. His stature was always a hindrance, but a good crowd would usually do the trick.  Still, the man showed up at lunch (he had skipped breakfast in favor of sleep), just a jovially as he’d attended dinner.

The good doctor provided well enough conversation. Edmund did not seem the type to ask too many unnecessary questions and his jokes were usually met with a pleasing laugh. Looking at the others, the doctor had to be the safest option. His nerves could be settled on that notion.

The nervous blonde was a talker–a question asker, the studious priest–seemed observant, the dark haired girl who barely had enough in her lungs to get out a syllable–probably scare her off, and then there was the dame all dyed up in red with this….peculiar leer to her features–unsettling. Ms. Larei proved a hard one to read anyway. Then again, it wasn’t too hard to figure out who had raided the bar the evening before catching a glimpse of her. 

After a pleasant enough conversation, the tall shadow stood and with a wave of his hand. A few other’s broke from the group as well, heading up toward their rooms to refresh themselves and the like. He stretched before setting off toward the elevator. 

“Oh excuse me, What did you say your name was, Mister…?” The stranger winced, glancing to his left and down a bit more. Confirmed to be a question asker. Miss Milena had taken the same elevator and unfortunately interest in him as well. 

“Ah, did I say?” Silly him. 

“You could call me Andrew.” 

You could anyway. 

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As was his oldest and truest habit, Basil made sure to know the house he would be staying in well enough to escape it. 

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Day 3: Gameplay

A murder has transpired! Today, you have (3) daily actions and (1) night action. Spend them wisely, and be careful to whom you reveal what you have found - you never know what will happen if you reveal too much.

Speaking of revealing information, if there is information you want other non-murderous members among you to know, you can reveal information! Information that is revealed is information that is given to all members of the house and will be found here.

This can be anything from something you find suspicious, something you discovered, or something that you think could be valuable to others looking for the killer. But be warned, your character’s name will appear next to the information. And if you know too much? Who knows. Remember: anyone can submit false information.

Additionally, when you think you know who the killer is check this post to learn about how to make a formal accusation.

As for investigating, you all seem to have the formatting down which is super! Play to your character’s strengths, investigate, ask questions, go forth! <3

As for creativity today, it is up to you all! If you feel like writing blurbs about how your character is doing, feel free to do so! I’ll reblog anything and everything creative pertaining to the roleplay. <3

Soundtracks, graphics, anything your heart desires is fair game. And if you have any questions, just ask!

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Day 3: A Sad Awakening

Night left the sky, but selfishly clung to the morning to try and keep its place. The sun was slow to shine, and the house was slow to wake from it. The servants had scattered themselves around the house, at first so that they might have order, and then in confusion when they found there was none to be had. 

The butler, Mr. Brookes, was nowhere to be found. On any other day, he would be found awake before anyone else. He would prepare for future events, orchestrate as need be, and correct what he must. The servants found themselves much without him.

And thus, a scream from a terrified maid woke the rest of the house. 

Mr. Brookes, facedown in his bed, was dead.

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Dinner: A Mishap

The table was immaculately prepared. Every detail, down to the last polished tea spoon, was in perfect place. Not an inch wrong in either direction. The candles were lit, the chandelier aglow, and place cards for each of the guests. Opulence and splendor walked hand-in-hand for the dinner.

A full three-course meal had been prepared: French Onion Soup, a large roast (seasoned with only the finest of spices), and ice cream for dessert - according to the servants. 

The seats arranged around the table belonged to the guests. And at the head, in every prominent fashion, the host would presumably sit. Even by the plate stood a placard that said, “Host.”

But by the time the French Onion Soup had begun to cool, the guests waiting for their host to open the meal, a very timid, very small serving girl came forward.

Clearing her throat, she held out a note, her hands shaking. “I-I regret to inform you that...your host is--unable to make it. He sends his a-apologies, along with this note...”

My dear guests,

I have had the greatest misfortune with travels and am now in wont of a car. I am attempting to find transport for myself, however, this only delays me. I had planned to discuss with you all a certain matter tonight, but it seems I must delay.

Please, at least enjoy the food. I have instructed the cook and butler to see that it is the best. 

By tomorrow, or the next day at the very latest, I should arrive. I look forward to discussing a certain business matter I think we can all agree is high time it was put to rest.

Thank you,

Your host”

After reading it, the servant quickly bowed and exited the room as quickly as possible.

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I’m going to make myself some dinner, then start answering the actions that I have. <3

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Journal Entry: November 16

(Morning)

Yesterday was no help to my understanding of the situation. Though uneasily, I slept through the night. The rest of the guests don’t seem to know what to make of this event either, or of our mysteriously absent host. There is to be a dinner tonight, so I think I’ll save my formal clothes for then. I felt far too overdressed when I arrived … perhaps I expected too much glamour of this world? So far it’s been only confusion.

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