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Post by Avery on Aug 20, 2013 23:28:59 GMT -5
(( I am going to give until the 24th for guesses. After that, I'll post up a narrator thing revealing the killer, and much fun will commence at the final show-down! ))
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Post by downrightdude on Aug 21, 2013 17:08:00 GMT -5
Snaw stares at a nearby wall, clearly hypnotized by a painting.....
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Post by Draco on Aug 22, 2013 2:24:06 GMT -5
Mori looked at Sergei, and holds out a note to him.
"Mustache Man. 8 )"
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Post by icon on Aug 23, 2013 22:53:59 GMT -5
"Say, Strainbrain and Wallbanger, something sounds off in the basement."
"Of course it does, you moronic keyboard! Discord is its specialty, and now there's barely anyone here! Everyone else is traipsing about trying to find a murderer! They've run off without us!"
"Well, I can't say I blame them for leaving you loons behind, but that's not quite what I meant." Monty turned slightly. "That generator in the corner over there. We could hardly hear it making background noise the whole time people were down here, but it's intensified over the past few minutes."
"Well, its humming is more in-tune than yours. DOHOHOHOHO!"
"See if you can roll us over there, harpsi-dork!"
"Are you sure about that? It sounds pretty dangerous..."
"Well, it's not like we can make it any worse, you know. Try hitting it with your pedals!"
[whunk]
[ka-THUNK]
"See, the noise just stopped. Perfectly harmless!"
"If only everything were that easy to shut up!"
"Err, do you two hear that?"
whumwhumwhumwhumwhumwhumwhumwhumwhumWHUMWHUMWHUM-
"Oh dear."
KRAKOOM!
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Post by Lizica on Aug 23, 2013 23:00:18 GMT -5
"...Say, Waller, what exactly just happened?"
"Isn't it obvious, Standorf? As if the fire hadn't been bad enough, the piano accidentally blew up the mansion's electrical generator!"
"I guess we should thank him for that."
"Why on earth should we thank him for that?"
"Because it's about time somebody else at this party had a blast!"
"DOHOHOHOHOHOHO!"
"So I suppose that means someone rigged it?"
"Could be--though I thought the only bomb in this mansion was Woo's idea of a dinner party!"
"And I can't help also noticing that we might have accidentally caused a blackout. I can't see anything in this dump."
"Neither can I."
"I'd say it's an improvement!"
"But it serves those knucklehead partygoers right for leaving us in the dark! DOHOHOHOHOHOHO!"
"Shut up and help me steer out of this basement, you two."
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Post by Gelquie on Aug 24, 2013 1:39:46 GMT -5
Sergei responded quickly to Rochelle. "Go. Help them. I need to take care of fire."
Rochelle frowned and nodded, a curve in her lip betraying her uncertainty. While there was nothing wrong with what he was suggesting, she wasn't sure if she wanted to be left alone right now to go in after Stal and whoever else was in there. Before she had time to think about it too much, however, Sergei returned and gave her a small kiss on the hand, promising to return.
Rochelle did her best to give him a smile before he ran off. She still couldn't help but feel anxious about the situation. But even so... She had to go in after them. Quickly.
As Sergei went off towards the Basement, Rochelle ran as quickly as she could towards the bedroom. She slammed open the doors to find a small group around Stal, with Stal trying to talk the others down, Hanna dropped onto a bed, and Alexa holding a lead pipe with Geoffrey alongside her. As shocked as Rochelle was to find this picture before her, she told herself that she probably shouldn't be that surprised.
In any case, questions later, actions now.
"Put... Put that down and back away from each other, now," she said as commandingly as possible.
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Post by Celestial on Aug 24, 2013 14:24:34 GMT -5
Sergei felt the boy's struggles lessen as he relaxed, the alcohol obviously taking effect. It was unlikely that he could be starting any more fires and with the current one seeming to be under control, the mansion was not going to burn down any time soon. Satisfied with this result, Sergei let Mori go, gently placing him down on the floor in a sitting position. He noted the awestruck expression on Mori's face but decided not to pay it too much attention.
"All good? You relax, everything fine now. Don't go crazy again," Sergei claps him on the shoulder and grins at hims, his moustache twitching slightly. He sees the note and reads it before smiling widely. "Major Sergei Belkov is my name."
The noises from the generator reached his ears. Generators were not a new thing to him, he had dealt with them back in his army days, mostly when they did not work and required a good kick, but tey should not be making those kinds of noises. His eyes widened.
"DOWN!" he yelled and threw himself on top of Mori just as the generator exploded. Sergei remained on the ground for a few minutes until the ringing disappeared from his ears. He got off the young man and stood up, unfazed by by the explosion for the most part. It was not a sound he was completely unfamiliar with, heck, he once learned to sleep through them when the barrages were particularly bad and there was only so much time you could get sleep.
"Everyone good?" he asked, looking around the basement for any injured.
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Post by Coaster on Aug 24, 2013 15:48:46 GMT -5
Rob re-entered the house, looking for the loose rocket fist, which seemed to veer off behind the shed once it was all said and done.
As sorry as this investigation was, he could tell that it was only headed for more disaster, if the smoke coming from the basement was any indication.
He wondered for a second where Obi had gone off to, then shrugged it off, figuring he must be fine.
As Rob opened the door, he witnessed a mob that seemed to have been in there for a while. At the sight of Prince what's-his-name trying to explain his innocence with several weapons--at least a strangely-dented pipe and a loaded revolver--pointed in the aristocrat's direction, Rob retrieved his garlic popcorn from hammerspace. The sight was quite entertaining, but there seemed to be a general consensus that everyone wanted out, despite the lack of immediate danger.
"While we're here, are you going to keep arguing? Maybe check under the bed for monsters?"
---
Meanwhile, Obi's pocket fire extinguisher had run out of extinguisher. Looking around for another way to control the fire, he realized that it... seemed to take care of itself, for the most part. The recluse nearby had attempted to say something, or so it seemed from the sign on the floor, but seemed to have one of that Russian's flasks in his mouth. Obi stared incredulously as the former seemed to relax entirely, or at least as much as the drunkenness allowed, then turned back around, a double-take at the piano in the corner.
And then the generator exploded.
The nearest shelters were blocked by the still-smoldering fire or already occupied by the other guests, and Obi was stuck in the middle of the room as the shockwave advanced in the blink of an eye.
In a panicked effort to survive, he barreled toward the next-nearest human who hadn't yet reacted: Miss Macy.
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Post by Kristykimmy on Aug 24, 2013 18:04:37 GMT -5
Alexa looked around and frowned. They all knew, or at least, she felt like they did. Like they knew and were accusing her. The lights died at that moment. The house shook as something exploded below her feet. She kept her feet, despite the jolt. The explosion, the fire, the rocket, the darkness, it was punishment, wasn’t it? She was going to die, and maybe, she thought, she deserved it. She looked down at the lead pipe in her hands. “I did it.”“I killed him with this,” she said to the darkness. Her voice was barely a whisper at first, but it rose in intensity as the words tumbled out. “In this very room, with this very bit of pipe. I couldn’t stand it! Listening to him prattle on and on about his stupid ice sculpture, how it was high art. It was a stupid swan. Everybody does swans. I’ve gone to eighteen weddings and five wedding anniversaries, and do you know what they had in common? Ice sculpture swans! I couldn’t stand it!” “Alexander came yesterday. He said the world’s not ready for my art. They just aren’t able to appreciate my art, to see its genius. But, I saw it in his eyes, he was trying to be kind, but what he meant was that everyone thinks my art is terrible. That he thought the same! My own brother, who all my life told me I had a gift for seeing art, despised my work. Him and the world. So, when I had to listen to Woo ramble on and on about his grand piece of art, it enraged me. What did he know of art? Why was such rubbish celebrated while true art goes unnoticed?” “I crossed him in the hall while on the way to the garden. He wouldn’t let me alone; he seemed to think that I, an artist, would appreciate hearing him speak of his amazing art sculpture! He turned away to go into the bedroom as he spoke to me, and I saw that piece of lead pipe lying on a table. I didn’t know why it was there, I didn’t care. Death itself is a form of art, isn’t it? And, I did it, with this very pipe…” She looked into the darkness. Her eyes had adjusted to the dark and she could make out the outlines of the people in the room. “It was art, what I created! It was art at its finest. A piece symbolizing both mortality and immorality, and the beauty of both. Never has there been a piece that could rival what I created.” She threw the lead pipe to the floor with all the force in her. Even on the carpeted surface it made a dull ringing sound. “But, what does any of it matter now? We all going to die in this hell house.” Her voice rose to a frenzied pitch, “We are all going to die!” She began to laugh, tears coursing down her face, completely hysterical.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 24, 2013 18:30:47 GMT -5
Erika gasped upon hearing the words "I did it" come from Alexa.
She trembled. She was frightened. More frightened than she ever had been.
She had come all the way from Katten to here, and a man had died. A couple people had accused her, and she had been scared, since she was innocent. Now, Alexa was revealing it had been her.
“It was art, what I created! It was art at its finest. A piece symbolizing both mortality and immorality, and the beauty of both. Never has there been a piece that could rival what I created.”
She threw the lead pipe to the floor with all the force in her. Even on the carpeted surface it made a dull ringing sound.
“But, what does any of it matter now? We all going to die in hell house.” Her voice rose to a frenzied pitch, “We are all going to die!”
"No..." Erika whispered. She didn't want to die. She wanted to go back to Katten.
She ran for the door.
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Post by Ted (the zombie Dalek) on Aug 24, 2013 21:19:53 GMT -5
Marvin had just about recovered from his fright in the conservatory when an explosion rocked the house and grounds, blowing the shed half to smithereens.
Erika!
He'd stayed behind to rest while she and Snaw went to find the others. Without hesitation he flung himself to his feet and pelted towards the darkened mansion.
He had to find them. He had to find them and get them out of this house.
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Post by Coaster on Aug 24, 2013 21:42:58 GMT -5
Rob finished off the last of his popcorn as Alexa finished her confession.
That certainly did explain the odd head-shaped indent in the pipe, but not Stal's unwillingness to divulge his accusation, even after being threatened at gunpoint. He supposed the writers wanted to save some for the sequel.
Rob reinforced his conclusion that aristocrats are nuts, and began to pack up what he had in preparation to leave. Then, his mind came to the explosion. Muffled, but apparently from underneath the shed, judging by how so little of it was left. Particularly around the... passage from the basement.
Perhaps it would be a good idea to return there and check on Obi and the delusional staff, assuming they hadn't left already.
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Post by downrightdude on Aug 24, 2013 22:33:03 GMT -5
“But, what does any of it matter now? We all going to die in hell house.” Her voice rose to a frenzied pitch, “We are all going to die!”
Snaw gasped. "So it was You who forged the faked will in Woo's library! I suppose that you had wanted to blame me for all of this! No wonder you also blew up the observatory!"
Still scared for his life, Snaw used his umbrella shield to shield him and Erika from the crazed person Snaw barely knew. How long had she been at the dinner party, anyways?
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Post by Gelquie on Aug 25, 2013 1:57:22 GMT -5
Rochelle listened in horror as she listened to Alexa's speech. Of course, she had already known by this point, so it was no surprise to her. That was why she was so insistent on coming to this room, really. Aside from Stal being a kidnapper; that was important too, of course. But the motive was one thing that had escaped her. To think... All of it was art to her... Art and jealousy, and... To think if Woo had chosen to talk to anyone else about his sculpture, he might still be here, she might still be trading glances with him, they could still...
Everyone else in the room seemed to be screaming, trying to get away from the murderer, even as she had collapsed into tears on the floor. Rochelle looked at her face and couldn't help but glare. Perhaps she felt sorry. Perhaps there was a chance she could be redeemed. Perhaps there was a chance that things could go back to normal despite all of this.
Rochelle. Didn't. Care.
"Art," she said scornfully, walking closer to the woman. "A living soul. A wonderful human, a great man, one of the greatest to ever roam the Earth, despite his flaws and his mistake in talking to you. You beat him to death in the most brutal manner possible, leaving a man with so much wonder and potential dead and lifeless. And you... You call it art."
Rochelle gave Alexa a huge slap, gritting her teeth in fury before she bent down. She picked up the lead pipe, a small jingle audible from somewhere on her before she levelled the pipe at Alexa.
Then she paused. A part of her had wondered about killing the killer herself. It felt gleeful and cathartic to think of it at the time. But now that she was in front of her, she began to have doubts. Mainly, it was doubts concerning whether she could forgive herself for killing someone, and whether she actually could, physically or psychologically. I mean, wouldn't she be doing the same thing that she had called out Alexa for, even if she would deserve it much more than Woo?
Her doubts left her kneeling there, unmoving.
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Post by Pixie on Aug 25, 2013 4:41:56 GMT -5
Brenda, in her terrible mood, had taken a large gulp of the offered wine even though it normally went against her principles. She had older and wiser peers pull foolish stunts under alcohol's effects, such as jumping off hay-carts with live chickens bound to their wrists (the poor birds!). Brenda knew a single mouthful would go straight to her head. If she couldn't think straight without the alcohol, and she couldn't think straight with the alcohol, she at least would take the choice that would sedate her and make her master being brutally murdered close to bearable .
It was then that her party- Alexa, Rochelle, and Sergei was split up. She would miss Rochelle and Alexa. She had very little suspicion for Rochelle, despite Alexa's advice to suspect everyone being pretty sound. Rochelle seemed so genuine. The woman at least weeped and showed she struck by Mr.Woo's death. She had no motive. Any riches she could have gained by killing him she could gain by marrying him. Alexa seemed just as likely as any other unfamiliar guest to be guilty, but she would miss her company too. Brenda was reassigned to a trio with two off the other staff members- a waitress, and a cook. She looked briefly at the other groups and was relieved to know the Sergei would not be put with other women. She found Prince Stal was put with level-headed Alexa, and the Delany girl, who acted off. Even without the foresight of the future that her role-player had, she knew things were going to be very interesting in that particular group.
Brenda explored with the other staff and came up with absolutely nothing. She was bitter and quiet and drunk and didn't do much conversing. Her emotions festered, and all her warmth burned into hate. She wouldn't hide it- she hated the murderer. Brenda was surrounded by crazy folks, but Mr. Woo's death had left her maybe a little bit broken herself.
Ms. Macy proved to be one of the crazy folks. The trio was split apart and they were herded into the basement like animals. Ms. Macy threats and suggested methods were extremely violent and far from sane. Brenda was aware the head housekeeper could act nuts at times, but she had never been this bad.
She suspected Ms. Macy even more than Sergei. At this point, Brenda felt like a caged animal. She stayed mute, as her rage subsided and she became practically catatonic. The murderer was in there with her.
Ms. Macy's insane. She's insane! She's going to shoot us all, even if we speak. Even if we speak she's can wipe is out. She could have a bomb, and blow us all up. We. Are. All. Going. To. Die.
Much shouting and accusations followed in the basement. By some other's expressions. Brenda stayed mute. As soon as Stal refused to share who he thought was the murderer, she pegged it as him. There was enough logic behind it. This was confirmed in her mind when he outright abducted the Delany girl and took her through a secret passage. Brenda vaguely remembered there being an secret entrance there from long prior exploration of the mansion, but she had forgotten about its existence due to the stressful circumstances. She dropped her shoes and took through the passage, then stopped when she smelt smoke.
Something was burning.
She turned around and saw the basement ablaze. Someone must of lit a fire! Was it Ms. Macy? It would not be safe to turn back, but she did anyway. A blanket was tossed on the fire, but it did not recede. There was nothing she could do to help. Cotton was very flammable and her fancy get-up would feed the fire if she got any closer. She'd get burnt up worse than her attempts at chocolate cake and be no use to anyone. The maid fled back through the tunnel, regretting the time she just wasted.
She stood at the end of the secret passage and peered into the bedroom. A crowd had gathered, trying to diffuse the situation. Brend remained outside and stood on. Suddenly...
The piercing words came from the one the most levelheaded-seeming of the guests. Whom she had talked to and been in the company of even before they were trapped in the basement.
"I did it."
No... No. No! NO!
Brenda rushed into the room and went berserk. Liquor spun through her. There was no way out but to deal with Alexa.
"You...YOU'RE WICKED." Brenda bellowed, approaching the madwoman another step with every word. "You'll suffer and rot for... ART? Not art... That's not art... You are going to be the only one to die now. You know that? You murdered Mr.Woo, but I'LL KILL YOU. For Mr. Woo, and Rochelle!"
She lunged with a swift flying kick at Alexa's stomach, trying to pin he the the ground and disarm arm. Brenda pounded her throat viciously with small, hard, fists.
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