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Post by Avery on Jul 27, 2013 21:33:31 GMT -5
Welcome, to what is sure to be a most exhilarating dinner party… It is a fine night at the mansion of one W.E. Woo, and a dinner party is well underway. Everything is going brilliantly—that is, until Woo winds up dead (murdered!). Now then, the question is: who killed our fine host? And with what? And where? That is up for you to discover, party-goer! Presenting to you, in no particular order, our esteemed attendees—now also playing double duty as suspects: And next up, the possible weapons our unknown suspect might have used to murder poor Woo: And finally, the rooms of the mansion in which the grisly murder might have taken place: Now, to get down to business and explain the rules of this guess-fest (alas, there are rules!). This game shall operate largely as does the classic board game, Clue: your job is to figure out who did it, and with what, and where. The game will last from August 1 to August 31, with your goal to figure out the guilty party, item, and location as quickly as possible. At the end of the month, the results will be released, as well as the rankings (e.g., first place, second, and so on down!). The game will played via two separate, but equally important, mediums: RolePlaying here on this very thread (how convenient!), and then your private guesses. As previously stated, the guessing shall begin on August 1; however, in order to get the RP rolling a little before then, I’ve decided to open up a bit of a ‘prologue’ to Woo’s murder today, the night of July 27th. This is simply to get your characters established and creative juices flowing prior to the death on August 1 (gee, someone ought to warn Woo!). As stated before, the meat of the game—the guessing, primarily—shan’t begin until August 1. The basic guidelines: 1. Each guest to Woo’s party will be dealt a hand of six cards, handed out to you by the evening of July 31. If you have a card in your possession, this means that this suspect, weapon, or room was not involved in Woo’s death. Strike it off your list! 2. You are allowed one guess per 24 hour period, defined as from 9pm NST to 8:59pm NST the next evening. Guesses will be performed in a private message thread with myself (for simplicity’s sake, I’m going to have everyone guess in the same private thread wherein their cards were issued: each person’s guessing thread will be entitled something extremely original like ‘John’s Clue Guesses & Cards’). This thread can also serve a private medium for you to ask me questions or the like. a. I know people are busy. Therefore, each person is allowed four cumulative missed days without guess penalty. Say you don’t get online on… August 3rd. On August 4th, you may then send me two guesses. After four missed days, you simply forfeit your turn. i. If you know you will be away for a time longer than four days, please PM me ASAP and we can work something out. ☺ 3. Guesses will be formatted like this: “I think it was Suspect, with the Weapon, in the Room”. a. You may guess any Suspect or Weapon you’d like, as long you do not have their card in your possession, and have not previously been told that they are innocent. i. Although I know it is often a strategy in Clue when played in person, unfortunately I will have to preemptively strike out the strategy of guessing your own cards, or known cards. Based on the tweaked format of this forum version, it would just make things too easy. Guessing Suspects or Weapons you have in your possession, or have already been told are not guilty, is therefore NOT ALLOWED by any means. If you attempt to guess a card you have in your possession or have previously been told is not guilty, you will forfeit your turn for that day. Why does it have to be this way? Because rather than questioning fellow players, as happens in vanilla Clue, you’ll be questioning an omniscient narrator. If I don’t “have” a card, that means it’s automatically guilty. Therefore, a person guessing two of their own cards, plus a random, would be able to arrive to the solution excessively quickly. b. You may only guess a Room if you are inside that room. You can see the layout of rooms on the map that will be posted farther down in this post. i. This means that you can very well guess a room that you possess—although for the sake of keeping things more interesting, I’d most appreciate if people at least tried to branch out from known Rooms. ii. On day one, everyone will begin out in the Hall. Therefore, your first day’s guess will necessarily be: “I think it was Suspect, with the Weapon, in the Hall”. After I return your first answer (“It was not Suspect”), I will include in that PM a dice roll. The dice will have three possible sides. The number that comes up represents how many Rooms you can move the next day. You need not move this exact number—but cannot move more than that number. 1. As an example, since we began in the Hall—if the dice says ‘2’, you could move into Lounge, or the Bedroom, or Shed, or any other room within two rooms of the Hall. But you could not, for example, move into the Kitchen (4 spaces away), or the Basement (3). YOU MUST MOVE EACH TURN. No loitering! If you want to flip back and forth between Room A and B, that is fine; but there must be movement on each turn. And just to make it clear: the stairs do not count as a space. Meaning, from the library down to the basement is just one space. 2. You will notice around the board a couple of secret passageways. These are to be utilized in a slightly different manner: as two-way streets. Say you’re in the Dining Room at the start of the turn. Regardless of the dice roll I gave you, you could use the passageway into the Bedroom—but once you’re in the Bedroom, that’s where you’ll stay for the turn. In other words, they’re dead ends. You could not, for example, upon rolling two, go from the Dining Room, into the Bedroom via passageway, and then into the Hall. The same goes for the inverse: you may only utilize a passage at all if you're in a room with one at the start of a turn. As another example, say you begin in the kitchen on a certain turn, and I have rolled you a two. You cannot then proceed to the dining room (one move) and use the passage into the bedroom (two). To put it as simply as possible, think of the passages as two-way streets: back and forth, no surplus moves either way. Another way of putting it—using a passageway nullifies (replaces) the dice roll. Make sense? iii. The RP and your whereabouts on the official game-board do not need to, and probably won’t, correspond. Think of them as sort of separate entities. Just because you’re “in” the Kitchen for guessing purposes, doesn’t mean you must be in the Kitchen in the RP as well. 4. Hidden around the forum, concealed in other threads, you may find “dropped”, extra cards—Easter eggs, so to speak. Though at no time during the game may you share with other players your dealt cards, you are welcome to work collectively with other official players only to dig up Easter eggs (assuming you want others to have such knowledge, of course!). Once you find an Easter egg, please tell me via PM so I can add it to your hand. I doubt anyone here would try to cheat, but please don’t ‘forget’ to tell me that you found a card and then attempt to guess it as a strategy. That simply would take out the fun for everyone—and you want to solve this murder honestly, right? 5. At 9pm NST (or thereabouts) each night, in the post below this one, you will find a daily leader-board. What is this? Basically, it’ll reveal to you the TOP THREE VOTE-GETTERS in each category for the previous day. That is to say, whom (or what) others most suspected. These results will only be up for a 24 hour period, after which time they’ll be poofed for the following day’s results. So make sure to keep track of the leader-board if you want to know what your fellow players are guessing! Now, of course the Suspect list above is not a comprehensive representation of the party’s attendees! What sort of party of the century has a mere 18 guests!? So, if you’re not on that list, do not fear! You can still participate in many aspects of this game as a NPC. As an NPC, you will not be dealt a hand of cards; you cannot officially win. However, you are still welcome (and encouraged) to participate in the RolePlay. You may also send me guesses if you’d like in an effort to figure out who-dunnit, as well as search for Easter eggs. Any NPCs who solve the puzzle will be given an honorary shout-out at the end. Any NPCs will be presumed to be alongside the Suspects in the Hall at the outset, and will need to guess following the same format as official players. So, if you would like to, as an NPC, make guesses, please PM me. You are also welcome to participate in the RP without guessing. Now that the rules are all squared away, this is the map of Woo’s mansion, for reference: Finally, a note: all official (Narrator) posts will be made by myself and will be in bold. I will also be playing a character in this RP, who is a Suspect herself (for a better balance of Suspect numbers). Her posts can be easily picked out from official Narrator posts 'cos, well-- they won't be in bold. xD Now, with all that official mumbo-jumbo squared away, I have one mere thing to say to you: good luck, party-goer!
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Post by Avery on Jul 27, 2013 21:33:51 GMT -5
SOLUTION:Alexa Marie Oswald, with the lead pipe, in the bedroom WINNERS:1. Stal (solved August 11th) 2. Celestial (solved August 13th) (tied with GLQ) 2. GLQ (solved August 13th) (tied with Celestial) 4. Kristy (solved August 15th) (tied with Ted) 4. Ted (solved August 15th) (tied with Kristy) 6. Terra (solved August 16th) 7. Draco (solved August 22nd)
Honorary NPC Mention: Coaster (solved August 24th)
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Post by Avery on Jul 27, 2013 21:34:06 GMT -5
We begin... The party was going splendidly.
It had started promptly at 6pm on a sultry August evening—the first of the month, in fact! It was the kind of night where the humidity was so thick it bordered on suffocating, and armies of mosquitoes buzzed about, looking for delicious humans to snack on. Fortunately, the party was being held in an air-conditioned, mercifully mosquito-free place: the mansion of one W.E. Woo.
Woo had been preparing for the gala for weeks, if not months, meticulously planning every detail of it. He handpicked each menu item, personally approved each decoration, and made sure each invitation was signed with the finest, smoothest ink. And it all came together swimmingly. The food was succulent; the décor luxurious; the guests well-coifed and enjoying themselves. But the crowning jewel of the night Woo saved for last: the unveiling of a gorgeous and very expensive ice sculpture, in the shape of a swan, to be revealed to the guests following the main course.
As Woo watched the partygoers eat their entrees, about two and a half hours into the dinner party, he was nearly itching with anticipation. Thoughts of the beautiful swan tugged at him. Butterflies flapped about his stomach. Oh, his precious, his sweet, his gleaming, shining sculpture! Oh, how the guests would stare at it in awe, blown away by its sheer beauty. He was so consumed with thoughts of it that he could hardly focus on the dinner presently at hand, could hardly heard what the guests were chattering about.
At last, he could sit still no longer. As guests continued to dine, Woo stood up sharply and said, “Thank you for attending tonight, guests! Please enjoy the rest of your meals, but for now I must depart to tend to the details of the great unveiling! After you’ve finished your entrees, feel free to mill about the mansion at your leisure until 9:30pm, at which point the revelation shall take place in the great hall. I will see you then!”
And with that, Woo smiled broadly at his guests before slipping away. The guests bid him adieu and continued on with their meals and chattering. Why, this party was a joy! A real treat! The company was delightful, the food delicious. And oh, they couldn’t wait for the great unveiling that Woo had hyped so magnificently.
They were sure it would be so very, very memorable.
What possibly could go wrong?
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Post by Avery on Jul 27, 2013 22:05:10 GMT -5
Hanna Robert LeeAnn Delaney did not like parties.
Well, that wasn't wholly true: parties were ok, sometimes, if they were quiet, and there were no people there. And perhaps most importantly, they were not being in held in mansions. Mansions! Oh, the very word soured Hanna's stomach. There was a fact, you see, that Hanna knew, but other seems oblivious to: mansions. were. evil. They were not just innocuous buildings like most people claimed, oh no. They were so much worse.
She knew this because as a child, Hanna had gotten lost in a mansion. Lost! And it was then that the true nature of such buildings had been revealed to her. This was very complicated to Hanna, because her father was quite wealthy, and therefore the family resided in what could only be classed as a mansion. She'd hoped after her experience that her father would listen to wisdom and move the family away. But he hadn't.
And so her fear had... bloomed. Intensified. By the time Hanna turned 18 and moved out of the Delaney family mansion, she was a nervous wreck... and refused to so much as drive near the family home anymore. That mansion! The way it leered at her! No. Hanna had just barely made her escape from it. She could not let it draw her in once more...
So being in this mansion right now, at Woo's dinner party? Was Hanna's worst fear. She was only here because of her therapist, Dr. Grunkle. Grunkle was on Papa Delaney's retainer and had been providing counseling to Hanna for years, with limited success. And Papa knew of this limited success, and was close to canning the old lout. So what was the old lout's solution? Why, to convince Papa that no, therapy was going great: and to prove it to him, to drag Hanna to this party at a mansion. Hanna had only agreed to come because she was perhaps more terrified of confrontation than of mansions.
Though not by much.
At the table, Hanna sat with Grunkle on her one side and a stranger on the other. The food smelled great, but she was much too nervous to eat. Not when she was in such a horrible place. The mansion was just plotting, she knew it. Plotting something awful. Why did no one else seem to understand this? How were they carrying on such careless conversation? How how how, when they were inside the belly of a beast!?
“Thank you for attending tonight, guests! Please enjoy the rest of your meals, but for now I must depart to tend to the details of the great unveiling! After you’ve finished your entrees, feel free to mill about the mansion at your leisure until 9:30pm, at which point the revelation shall take place in the great hall. I will see you then!”
Hanna watched with darting eyes as Woo walked out of the room. Then, she glanced down past Grunkle, and at the person on the therapist's other side: Geoffrey. Geoffrey Wallis Camille Delaney. Her brother, and Grunkle's other (failing) therapy project. He was not here quite willingly either. He was picking nervously at his plate of food and being very, very quiet. Typical Geoff.
"Hanna," Dr. Grunkle said, noticing Hanna's staring. "You are being quite rude. Finish your dinner, hm?"
"Yes, Dr. Grunkle," Hanna muttered, forcing down a bite. But delicious as it was, the food felt gross on her tongue, slimy as it slid down her throat. How could she eat at a time like this!? When she was inside such a beast!?
She had to leave this party. And soon.
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Post by Mostly Harmless (flufflepuff) on Jul 27, 2013 22:22:19 GMT -5
Vincent V. Gladstone straightened his tatty brown suit, drinking in the cool, mosquito-free air. How fortunate he was, he mused, to have wandered in through the back door and be welcomed as an aristocrat. Perhaps it was his suit. Perhaps it was his charisma. Perhaps it was even the thirst for knowledge he saw all around him. Yes, everyone could use a piece of his mind. They should consider themselves lucky to know him, and understand everything on a deeper level.
But luck would have nothing to do with this party this time. Vincent was certain of it. The elderly man adjusted his glasses and helped himself to a shrimp cocktail, his stomach as eager to receive nourishment as his mind was to discover everything. What is shrimp, he thought, but a nuisance of the sea? A lowly bottom-feeder...And yet it is considered valuable enough to bring into a mansion. Of course, the poor shrimp himself must be sacrificed in the process. That, too, is destiny. Some shrimp were meant to live out their happy little lives on the seafloor, where others... Vincent paused in his thoughts to crunch on another shrimp. Aren't I like a shrimp? There I was, circling various houses to see what they were like, and SHWOOP, up I go, into a net, into a mansion. The only difference is, I am not at the moment skinned and gutted. That is not my destiny. I am certain of it. He continued to snack on seafood when he heard someone make an announcement.
Me Snaw! I just came back from my trip to Norway in which I conquered the country, found some gems, and won Miss Iceland! How is everybody tonight?
Vincent turned and smiled. Now here was someone eager to learn. Such energy, such enthusiasm! Practically a child, with a mind so malleable and perfect. Snaw would be an interesting experience.
"My dearest Snaw, it is more than a pleasure to meet you. As for how I am doing, I can answer in no way but honestly. I am a shrimp. I am nothing in this world but what others make of me, and I was plucked up from nothing and slapped into this bowl of a mansion. But unlike the shrimp, I am not going to have my intestines pulled out, nor will I be eaten anytime soon. As for you..." Here Vincent lifted a shaking hand and pointed to Snaw. "You are probably a lionfish. So bold, no one dares to eat you. So full of vitality and youth! I pray you keep it up, small fry." Vincent patted Snaw on the shoulder.
Another voice rang out through the commotion, clear as day, though it was night. “Thank you for attending tonight, guests! Please enjoy the rest of your meals, but for now I must depart to tend to the details of the great unveiling! After you’ve finished your entrees, feel free to mill about the mansion at your leisure until 9:30pm, at which point the revelation shall take place in the great hall. I will see you then!”
Vincent nodded. It was something about an ice sculpture, wasn't it? Those were incredibly fascinating. Such secrets ice held, very much like the earth, with bubbles and other tiny signs of life beneath its surface. Of course, it wasn't much to look at unless it was formed in a certain shape. And, of course, if that shape was considered beautiful. Beautiful? Hmmm...
The old man turned to a woman next to him. Ah, yes. Women were phenomenons. They were the only mysteries of the earth which eluded him, but there was no reason not to study them. They were beneath his intelligence, beyond his scope of normality, unreachable like the end of the galaxy or the final digit of pi...He left them to their own devices. Someone else would figure them out. Someone else with a BS in Philosophy, just like him. Only that person would probably minor in Women's Studies. Someone with the time to study such fair and interesting beings. Vincent had the entire universe to unearth!
"What does beauty mean to you?"
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Post by Terra on Jul 27, 2013 22:37:48 GMT -5
Geoffrey Wallis Camille Delaney was not happy.
He stared at his plate resolutely and poked at it with his fork, trying to ignore his surroundings - the stares of his sister Hanna, the chatter of the people surrounding him - but most importantly the omniscient voice that seemed to follow him wherever he went, narrating everything that went on around him.
The party was going splendidly, he heard the narrator say. Maybe it was going splendidly for everyone else, but it was not so for Geoffrey Delaney. He had to listen to the narrator give exposition on every little detail about every single guest. Maybe some of it might have been interesting if he didn’t have to hear it every single time he met someone new, but as it was, it was simultaneously overwhelming and extremely frustrating.
And on occasion, the narrator would speak at length about someone he knew very well! The narrator was now discussing his sister Hanna’s paranoid fear of mansions, which Geoffrey was far too aware of, having grown up with her in their own mansion. Geoffrey couldn’t imagine why the narrator bothered speaking about this if he was the only one who could hear him; and it seemed that he was the only one who could hear him, based on Geoffrey’s interrogations of everyone around him in childhood.
(Those didn’t go particularly well.)
But by far the worst thing was when the narrator decided to narrate Geoffrey’s thoughts about the narrator.
Geoffrey put his head in his hands as he heard the narrator say the previous sentence. Great, thought Geoffrey. Now he’s going to go on and on about how “metafictional” it is - what does that even mean? This is real life, as far as I can tell! Unless, of course, it isn’t. And I’m stuck in the WORST STORY EVER.
The last thought was probably the most horrific possibility of all.
“Geoffrey. Geoffrey!”
Geoffrey looked up at the sound of Dr. Leona Grunkle’s voice and realized that he’d been hyperventilating. He turned bright red and looked around frantically - had anyone else noticed his strange behavior?
“Geoffrey! Get a hold of yourself and eat your food,” said Dr. Grunkle sternly.
“Yes, Dr. Grunkle,” said Geoffrey meekly. He stabbed a piece of broccoli with his fork and put it in his mouth.
At least I get to eat something other than fish tonight, he thought.
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Post by Kristykimmy on Jul 27, 2013 22:40:56 GMT -5
Alexa Marie Oswald sipped at her champagne as she watched the other party guests chattering to each other around the table. She admired the painting on the wall, wondering if it was Mr. Woo himself or his father. The shadows were so deep that it was hard to tell. She liked the use of the deep shadows.
Alexa considered herself an artist, which is not so much to say she was one. She was twenty-one, independent, and traveling to wherever she felt her muse was directing. She considered herself a cross between Picasso and Monet, but both artists would most likely have been offended by such a comparison. Alexa saw art everywhere, though she was often the only one.
Alexa had received the invitation to the party from her mother. She was in the area, and her parents were too busy to make it, so she asked that Alexa represent the family. She had heard there would be several important people there and the house was amazing, so she agreed. Alexa was not known for going out of her way for anyone, even her family.
Alexa vaguely wondered what her brothers were up to. She hadn’t spoken to either of them in more than two months. Her older brother was probably worrying about her, and the younger was always complaining that she was irresponsible.
Alexa looked across the table. The Delaney siblings were sitting on opposite sides of some old bat. Alexa had heard of that family from mutual acquaintances.
“Small world,” Alexa thought. “I wonder if they are as batty as everyone always said. That girl looks like she’d jump straight through the ceiling at the least provocation. I think the man is having a panic attack.”
Alexa glanced down the table to where Prince Stal was sitting. Her mother had mentioned him specifically. Clearly her mother had a little more in mind when deciding Alexa was the best suited to represent the family. She laughed internally at his smug smile.
There were other interesting people at the table. She people watched, she always had. Her mother informed her it was rude, that she should be socializing and talking with the people instead of just watching them with her customary bored expression. However, Alexa had rarely taken anything her mother had said to heart.
She wondered who the loud, flashy man in the dark shades was. She smirked at the old bat in the ratty suit chatting him up. She vaguely recognized the girl with the pig-tails, believing she’d seen her in the paper as beauty contest winner sometime in the past.
She looked down the table at Mr. Woo as he got up.
“Thank you for attending tonight, guests! Please enjoy the rest of your meals, but for now I must depart to tend to the details of the great unveiling! After you’ve finished your entrees, feel free to mill about the mansion at your leisure until 9:30pm, at which point the revelation shall take place in the great hall. I will see you then!”
Alexa smiled and raised her glass to him as he left. She had promised her mother she would be charming to Mr. Woo. He was an old family friend, or some such nonsense. Any rich aristocrat who extended an invitation to her mother was an ‘old family friend’ in her book. Alexa sipped the last of her champagne and a waiter promptly refilled it.
She took another sip and returned to her people watching.
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Post by downrightdude on Jul 27, 2013 22:48:39 GMT -5
Snaw Van Peacock strode inside the mansion with pride as he walked through the front door, with Fred #3 behind him with his baggage. After double-checking that his mascara wasn't running, he looked around the front entrance and scoffed at the wooden coat rack that was placed beside the door. Snaw was surprised; at his mansion the coat room was much bigger than Woo's front entrance, and the coatroom was also filled with numerous leather coats that he claimed as his 'leather coatroom'. He walked over to the buffet table and helped himself to all of the available sugar cookies as he sat in one of the supposedly-luxurious velvet seats. Snaw could tell right away that these seats were not real velvet but just cheap imitation. (He should know since HE owns all of the world's supply of velvet).
After devouring the sugar cookies, Snaw walked towards the table and sat between two complete strangers. Then he coughed into his polar fur trimmed glove and shouted: Me Snaw! I just came back from my trip to Norway in which I conquered the country, found some gems, and won Miss Iceland! How is everybody tonight? After waiting for a reply, Snaw just sighed and looked around for anybody dresses more sharply than him. When he saw Vincent walk towards him, he felt very eager to talk about his experiences in Norway, but was instead given a strange lecture from the elderly man. My dearest Snaw, it is more than a pleasure to meet you. As for how I am doing, I can answer in no way but honestly. I am a shrimp. I am nothing in this world but what others make of me, and I was plucked up from nothing and slapped into this bowl of a mansion. But unlike the shrimp, I am not going to have my intestines pulled out, nor will I be eaten anytime soon. As for you............You are probably a lionfish. So bold, no one dares to eat you. So full of vitality and youth! I pray you keep it up, small fry.
Snaw sighed with relief when Vincent walked away. What in Neopia was this buffoon talking about? How was the beautiful Snaw Van Peacock a lionfish? Why was Vincent a fish?
Rather than question the old man, Snaw decided to check his ex-powder in case WOOHP had wanted him to leave for an urgent mission. After he saved the world's supply of shampoo from a crazed hair stylist, he had been renowned at WOOHP for his bravery and waits..........and beauty, as well. But alas the mighty Snaw was too busy: what with being Miss Neopia, he had to leave the Winx Club in order to fulfill his duties of conquering the world and taking whatever he wanted. But then again, I am the most beautiful person here! Snaw thought confidently.
As the rest of the guests talked, Snaw looked up at the puny chandeliers at the ceiling and scoffed. At his mansion, the chandeliers would have weighed much more than Woo's entire house! Then there was his announcement: “Thank you for attending tonight, guests! Please enjoy the rest of your meals, but for now I must depart to tend to the details of the great unveiling! After you’ve finished your entrees, feel free to mill about the mansion at your leisure until 9:30pm, at which point the revelation shall take place in the great hall. I will see you then!”
Snaw scoffed again. An ice sculpture? All of Snaw's ice sculptures were made of the finest ice the Earth had, plus they were no match for the two ice palaces that he had in Scandinavia. As the night went on, Snaw became hungry for dinner and admirers to bask upon his natural beauty. With no TV in sight, he decided that the only thing he could do was dance randomly on the floor until he felt content. It was either that or use his beautiful faerie wings to fly away.......
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Post by Coaster on Jul 27, 2013 23:23:12 GMT -5
"I think we should ask him what's taking so long."
Exasperated as always, Rob barked at his juvenile, disoriented companion. "No. I can reasonably assume that our invitations are in order and that the doorman is competent, but Mr. Woo is too enamored with his silly sculptures to deal with this miserable queue," he explained with more than an ounce of hypocrisy, for the two of them made their living in sculpture: the older, Rob, quarried perfectly flat rocks with mathematical precision, while Obi, the parasite who stood in front of him, spent most of his time ruining Rob's work, carving his magnificent granite cubes into outlandish creatures. Like humans. What on earth would anyone have use of a human statue for?
"But we've been here two and a half hours," Obi whined in the midst of Rob's stewing; Obi's cyan facial cameras came to full width in an approximation of puppy-dog eyes. "My feet are sore, and I'm hungry."
"Blatant lies. Both of us were recharged this morning, and fortunately, I disabled your pain repository before we arrived here." Less fortunately, Rob did not disable his own, and Obi was beginning to aggravate it. "We'll simply have to wait for the host to make his--"
"Monkey budge!" Obi interjected repeatedly as he began to progress forward through the line of NPC's yet waiting to enter, attempting to find someone who would permit him to take the place behind him.
A muffled announcement echoed from the corridor through the blocked entryway--a speech pompous and self-important, like most of the guests who had the privilege of dining early, but also authoritative enough to halt the jingling of cups and cutlery. Evidently, Mr. Woo himself.
"Thank you ... tonight, guests! Please ... now I must depart ... finished ... free to mill about ... the revelation ... see you then!"
"Stop that!"
The sharp reply came from a dignitary several spaces ahead, and its owner returned Obi to his place in front of Rob, saving the latter the effort of chasing him.
After what seemed to be Mr. Woo's farewell speech, Rob could tell this evening was going to be even more long and boring than the queue in which they now stood.
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Post by Stal on Jul 27, 2013 23:34:52 GMT -5
Stalos, the Dictator of the Splatterboard, stood in front of Woo Mansion and checked his pocket watch again. He had traded his trademark trenchcoat in for a suit and a fedora, even taking off the sunglasses to go with the ensemble.
The pocketwatch tick-tick-ticked the seconds away. He was late. And any second now, it would be fashionably late... ah yes, of course. At precisely the second that one could deem an arrival to be fashionably late, a large carriage complete with royal entourage came tearing up the lane. "I shouldn't have expected anything else from him. What a pain this one can be."
The carriage paused, several royal minions scattered about, blasting trumpets and announcing the arrival of a royal prince. Out of the carriage stepped someone who could be a mirror image of Stalos. Or even one of his clones. He wore a much more regal attire complete with a cloak and a saber at his side.
"Father!" The Prince called out and approached Stalos. "I didn't know you would be here at this party."
"I'm not. I declined the invitation. But I heard you would be here... What are you up to? Why are you back? It's not time yet..."
"Oh, Father. Don't worry. I'll behave myself." The young prince smiled. "My new dad thought I should attend the gala, maybe find myself a wife."
"...You realize that I gave you a bit more of my ego than most of the other clones got, right?"
"Which is why I expect to be the talk of this event." The smile grew even wider somehow. "Don't worry, I'm sure everything will be fine."
"Just... behave."
The young Prince clapped his Father on the shoulder, laughed and walked past him towards the waiting entrance doors. He pulled out a pair of sunglasses and slipped them on before he walked into to complete the trademark look that had been so perfectly crafted.
Stalos shook his head and walked away. The young clone, Prince Stal, went into the party. They should be sitting down to dinner fairly soon.
* * *
Prince Stal was not pleased. He poked at his food, not believing that he wasn't the center of attention yet. And where were all the young pretty girls that he could flirt with? He barely noticed when Woo made his announcement.
At least there would still be mingling about soon. Maybe he could be the center of attention then.
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Post by Pixie on Jul 28, 2013 0:16:33 GMT -5
Brenda Hearte was the maid. She had been in Mr. Woo's service for the past three years every afternoon and had yet to advance from her position as his maid. She did housework- or mansion-work in this particular case- for a living. She was perfectly fine with being a maid, as it would help her pay for a college education next year. But she really would have preferred to be promoted to kitchen staff. Ever since she was a little child, growing up rather poor in a rather small town, she wanted to be a baker. In all the trivial contests she had entered her confections- were never were actually any good and never earned her even third place, though she liked to pretend she was good at her passion. She wanted to improve- That's what culinary college was for. So indirectly that's what cleaning up after Mr. Woo was for, so she rarely complained. And though the man was eccentric, she always thought he was kind.
Just yesterday Brenda heard the good news. Due to last minute cancellations, she would be allowed to attend his party among his guests as long as she could balance her housekeeping duties. Attending parties hadn't previously been in the job description and she was very grateful for the change.
She had selected her frilliest and most stereotypical maid garb to wear for the event to remind people who would be cleaning up after them. She pinned a perky black hair bow into her long lengths of smooth, dark hair to tie together the look.
She walked around the grand hall while guests came in. There were a lot of them. but she didn't mind being around so many people. Her boss made and announcement and then left. She would look forward to speaking with him as equals after he returned. Sipping a wine glass filled with soda, she stumbled around looking for anyone needing help. The high heels weren't very easy to walk in, or did much to make Brenda's slight stature taller, but she thought they looked refined so she wore them anyway. She spotted a dapper man in shades who seemed vaguely upset.
She approached the man, who happened to be Prince Stal.
"Hello, good Sir. Brenda Hearte at your service!" She greeted him with a wide and enthusiastic smile and a mock curtsy."Are you in need of anything? I'd be glad to help."
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Post by Draco on Jul 28, 2013 1:03:57 GMT -5
There was one place at the table that was empty. Not because that person wasn't there, instead the person was sitting under the table. Mori Hikiko sat at the foot of his chair, blanket wrapped around him, clutching his plate of food. He shouldn't be here. He was a shut in. He only ventured out of his house once, maybe twice a year. He wasn't sure why he was here now... Wait, he did know. Kidnapping.
--- Flashback to earlier that day. He was excited. He was about to venture outside. He wasn't happy about that, but he was about to go to his annual Shut In Anime Convention. A convention made for shut ins. It was a odd convention, not crowded at all (mostly since most attendees never even made it to the street before running back home). Most people just lurked around the convention center and quickly got what they wanted before dashing home. This was where he was going, before he was kidnapped. His own friends, who he saw on rare occasions at home, but talked to online mostly online. They managed to sneak up on him, drag him to this mansion, and threw him out.
"This is for your own good Mori! We'll be back tomorrow for you!"
Before Mori could do anything they were gone. He whimpered a little and scurried into the house, hiding himself under a table. Taped to his blanket was a invitation, so he at least knew what was going on, but he didn't like it.
--- Back in the present. Mori whimpered a bit more into his food as Mr. Woo left the room.
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Post by Gelquie on Jul 28, 2013 2:12:55 GMT -5
"This dish is delightful."
Those were the words that had come out of Rochelle LeMarque's mouth after tasting only the first forkful of the first course of the meal. And she was being completely honest in saying so; she liked shrimp casserole already, but this was delightful. And she felt very confident in making her opinion about the meal known. After all, this was part of her job as a hostess of the lovely 4-star Garnish Gardens restaurant. Mind, she was more of the type to greet the people at the door, but for a dignified restaurant that she was a part of, this was a bigger job than it would be anywhere else. Besides, sometimes people wanted recommendations, or at least a bright face to give a start to their dinner. Perhaps it was not Rochelle's dream job, but it was a good enough start for her. After all, she's still young. And she quite enjoyed the company of the people she met during the job.
Especially...
Throughout the dinner, though Rochelle tried her best to look attentive to the other guests (even if this wasn't her party), she couldn't help but feel her eyes persistently drawn to the handsome figure that is Mr. Woo. She had seen him from time to time before, as he was an occasional visitor of the restaurant, and he always looked dashing for the occasion. But tonight, oh tonight he only looked even more handsome than ever before. With his impeccably styled hair, the perfect fit of his suit, the lovely jewelry he had on to make him sparkle all the more, Rochelle found most of the evening meal staring at him, her finger trailing her wine glass absentmindedly as she admired the well-dressed host. She didn't even realize she was doing it, though whenever she caught herself, she would try to resume a more professional stance that would befit a proper hostess. It was more of a habit than anything. She knew in her mind that it wasn't her party that she was hosting and that she didn't have to look professional all the time. But she only really saw Mr. Woo at the restaurant, and the policy at her restaurant forbid her to have flirtations or extended personal conversations with any guests in the interests of being professional. However, she was more careful to keep this in mind at the restaurant, where her job was at stake. Here, however, she didn't risk this. So she often resumed flitting her eyes towards Mr. Woo as she ate.
When she came to this party, she was most excited about getting closer to Mr. Woo. She hoped she would be able to strike up a decent conversation with him and talk to him about... Well, whenever. And then they could discuss more personal things. And perhaps she would be able to convince Mr. Woo to meet with her in some other place, where the restaurant couldn't get in the way. And then maybe, just maybe...
And then Mr. Woo stood up.
“Thank you for attending tonight, guests! Please enjoy the rest of your meals, but for now I must depart to tend to the details of the great unveiling! After you’ve finished your entrees, feel free to mill about the mansion at your leisure until 9:30pm, at which point the revelation shall take place in the great hall. I will see you then!”
Rochelle beamed in a friendly manner towards Mr. Woo that masked her severe disappointment. It would be a long time until the great unveiling of the ice sculpture, and she had hoped to corner Mr. Woo before then so that they could talk. She supposed there was time after the dinner, but who knows what he might be up to by then? Ah Mr. Woo, always so engrossed in his projects that he skirts to and fro, never taking too much time to talk. It was an unfortunate trait. How was she supposed to get closer to him that way?
Still, there was nothing left to it. She would still see Mr. Woo after the unveiling. Maybe she might get lucky and run into him beforehand. Yes... That might be worthwhile.
For now, the dinner. She dove back into what remained of her food, still as marvelous as ever. There were still other people she could talk to--and other things to see--until she saw Mr. Woo again.
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Post by Stal on Jul 28, 2013 2:13:48 GMT -5
Prince Stal reacted quickly to the change in his status of receiving attention. Even if it was coming from a maid. He considered the girl who came running up to him (well, stumbling, really) and gave her his most winning smile.
"I could use a companion to join me for a drink, if you would. A lovely lady like yourself would do just fine." Maybe she was only a maid, but he could always trade up later.
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Post by Jayeee on Jul 28, 2013 7:20:49 GMT -5
Lavendar Fairweather was most disappointed. When she was invited to the party of Mr. Woo, she was almost certain it would be a grand affair. But alas, here she was, surrounded by commoners and with no designated 'pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey' area in sight. She stuffed her see-through blindfold into the hands of her father and sat down at the table to eat. If there wasn't a giant plate of ice-cream and jelly, Little Miss Fruity Beauty 2009 was going to lose her temper.
She looked around her. "Somebody needs to cut up one's dinner in order for one to eat," she announced loudly, as she glanced at the food set out in front of her with disdain. "One had expected there to be animal crackers."
Lavendar was a little saddened when Mr Woo made his leave. She had very much hoped to tell him about her miraculous Little Miss Flower Beauty win back in 2007, in which she overcame all the odds to get first place, all the while suffering from rubella. She was quite a talent, if she did say so herself. But after Mr Woo had excused himself, Lavendar had quickly noticed that nobody was paying attention to her. Did nobody read Pageant Weekly, or watch the Beauty Channel? It was only the 256th most popular television station, after all! She was horrified at this lack of respect.
"Daddy," she called loudly. The head of an ageing man appeared from under the table. "Yes, sweetie?" he asked with a smile. Lavendar frowned. "Daddy, nobody is paying any attention to one." 'Daddy' thought about this for a moment. "Maybe they're just enjoying their food. Perhaps wait a little while, i'm sure they'll notice the most adorable little girl in the world very soon." Lavendar kicked him in the face. "One doesn't like that idea. One needs to be noticed now!!" she demanded. She elbowed her father back under the table in anger.
Truth be told, he wasn't actually her father. In fact, he was her assistant, but Lavender had forced her mother to marry him just so that she could call him daddy. She didn't expect the affair to last very long though; she already had the divorce papers hidden away in her room. He just wasn't cutting it.
Lavendar tugged on the sleeves of the person she was sitting next to. "Yes, one is Lavendar Fairweather, how delightful of you to notice. One is sure that you must have heard the story of how one transcended the heavens to take the grand price of Little Miss Hypnotherapist 2004. They were just entranced by one's jazz hands." She shook her hands aggressively in the person's face. "Now, do tell one, how does somebody so common and ugly get invited to an event such as this? You look worse than the runner up of Little Miss Florist 2001. One is sure you'll remember that fashion disaster!"
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