Proto Badger (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
protoshepherd) wrote2015-03-03 02:21 am
protoshepherd) wrote2015-03-03 02:21 am
GRAVEYARD aka the locked basement LOL
[ You're dead. Either you were ousted and seemed as an ally of the Bad Badger, or the actual allies of the Bad Badger actually got to you.
You remember dying. If you were already dead prior to this whole game... well, you're alive again.
Your death may have been terrible. Poison, being stabbed multiple times, blunt trauma to the head, hanged... whatever. You can still feel the pain.
But... Where are you? You see white walls around you. You're in a hospital...? You're in a room, but there's no one else but you and a man in a blue costume. He doesn't want to reveal his real head, so he hides behind a mask. A badger wearing a blue jester's hat.
And... another person? Has that other person been there all along?
Then you remember being in a mansion. Was that all a dream? You try to figure it out on your own, but you can't seem to come up with an answer. If by any chance you look into the badger's empty black eyes, you might feel like you're being taken to a completely different place. It's as if you can see the mansion again. You can see the people talking, but if you try to call out, nothing happens. They can't hear you.
You avert your gaze from the badger, and those images disappear.
There's so much happening. Pain, and this crazy badger.
You, on the other hand, aren't wearing a blue costume. You have a white dress on, with an opening at the back. That was definitely not what you were wearing... or was it?
You have so many questions. But at least you're not alone. Someone can answer those questions for you. ]
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[ NOTE Your characters will be able to see the events happening in the game while in the graveyard as long as they're looking at the Proto Badger. They cannot participate in any of the polls, or try to converse with anybody that isn't in this room. ]
You remember dying. If you were already dead prior to this whole game... well, you're alive again.
Your death may have been terrible. Poison, being stabbed multiple times, blunt trauma to the head, hanged... whatever. You can still feel the pain.
But... Where are you? You see white walls around you. You're in a hospital...? You're in a room, but there's no one else but you and a man in a blue costume. He doesn't want to reveal his real head, so he hides behind a mask. A badger wearing a blue jester's hat.
And... another person? Has that other person been there all along?
Then you remember being in a mansion. Was that all a dream? You try to figure it out on your own, but you can't seem to come up with an answer. If by any chance you look into the badger's empty black eyes, you might feel like you're being taken to a completely different place. It's as if you can see the mansion again. You can see the people talking, but if you try to call out, nothing happens. They can't hear you.
You avert your gaze from the badger, and those images disappear.
There's so much happening. Pain, and this crazy badger.
You, on the other hand, aren't wearing a blue costume. You have a white dress on, with an opening at the back. That was definitely not what you were wearing... or was it?
You have so many questions. But at least you're not alone. Someone can answer those questions for you. ]
--
[ NOTE Your characters will be able to see the events happening in the game while in the graveyard as long as they're looking at the Proto Badger. They cannot participate in any of the polls, or try to converse with anybody that isn't in this room. ]
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[She bolted upright.]
[Was it a dream? Was it not? Then why wasn't she wearing her favorite pajamas, with her favorite pillows, and listening to HamHam running around on his wheel? And why did her sides hurt like hell...]
...My box!
[First order of business, get her box back on, which she did. Quick check of everything else... it all seemed to be in order, at least.]
Kahk-kahk-kahk... are we dead?
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What the hell was all of that? ...Am I really dead?
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[So she hid under her (still-present) inconspicuous disguise.]
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Clue for bad badger given.
Also. Delivery pizza.
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D-do we get pizza?
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Night 2
Matt, Matt! Our show's on!
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[Woozily pulls himself up off of Simon's legs and slumps against his shoulder instead, slooshing a bit of brandy from his glass.]
Oh it's you, dude. Nickel Samurai isn't on 'till 5.
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A box from outside slips in. If you open it, it's just a box of garlic bread and gummi worms. ]
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For Matt & Simon
They find themselves at the lowest floor of the mansion they were in. They can't seem to think about anything except Kristoph Gavin and Colias Palaeno need to go.
Kristoph Gavin needs to be hit on the head with a blunt object. Colias Palaeno needs to be poisoned. Team Kristoph Gavin needs justice to be served unto them.
You may kill however you like, but the crime scene must. Be. Perfect.
So maybe it's time to visit their rooms...
Right by the doors of the Gavin room are:
- a deck of cards
- a shitton of empty grape juice bottles
- a shiv
- four (red, pink, blue, and yellow) mugs of coffee, laced with poison
Matt and Simon will have the knowledge that there the two mugs (yellow) are laced with poison. The poison is fact acting, and the anyone who takes it in will start having difficulty in breathing after five minutes.
Maybe they just want to chat with Kristoph and Palaeno before going to bed? :)
And if they ask how they're alive... just tell them that it was the mirrors, and that they've been staying in the basement. ]
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Gotta be honest, this is outside of my area of expertise.
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Ooh, someone get the license plate of that...
....W-What happened? Sis? A-Anyone?
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[Here's a box-girl, sans box!]
What? --Why are you here? You weren't voted, were you?
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Either way, his remembrance of the night before is dim as hell but he imagines it'll come back eventually, and in contrast it's entirely too bright in here, and the walls are wh-
(Nothing. They're soft.)
...shit.
If that isn't going to get a reaction out of him, absolutely nothing is; he's not exactly in the mood to talk to anyone, but there is exactly nothing about this that isn't going to drop his breathing into something incredibly shallow and he is going to be trying to find something to do with his hands that doesn't fall into pure stereotypy because wow, everything about this sucks, doesn't it. Granted, that gives him the thrilling options of messing with his glasses, his hair, his sleeves, and whatever's within reach, but at least it's going to center him eventually.]
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[There was the second one... Klavier Gavin's brother? That had to be him, they looked exactly alike.]
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First there's the denial, which is always the best part of it. That blissful void that comes from still having one leg in slumber land. If he's resting so comfortably, there's no way anything could be wrong. Then comes a bit of agitation because he's kind of cold, especially around his back area. Where's the blanket? ...Right, he doesn't have one. He's sleeping on the floor. A floor that's awfully soft all of a sudden, like he's sleeping on pillows instead.
A few memories seep through and he gets the distinct impression that there's something wrong with his stomach for some reason. Or rather, that there should be something wrong. ...Poison. Right. He cringes and rolls onto his side, pulling his legs up to his chest to try and curl into a little ball.
... No hang on. If he was poisoned, wouldn't he be dead? How could he be thinking about this in the first place if he were dead? The poison thing was just a nightmare! Sure, that was it. In fact, every horrible image flickering in the back of his mind must be part of one big nightmare. Please let it be a nightmare. If it was just a nightmare, he could go out and start the day fresh and put lots of extra effort into his work. He could even dedicate a jubilee to charity. That's bargaining with omnipotent powers, right there.
Then his eyes finally flicker open to greet the harsh reality. Apparently the 'nightmare' is still going on. Welcome to the depression stage.]
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Granted, the people who are keeping you company are probably neither consoling or helpful, but it. It could be worse...]
Mr. Palaeno.
[Kristoph's voice is perhaps surprisingly calm, particularly given the fact that he'd freaked out a bit upon arrival; he hasn't exactly been able to settle so much as he's had enough time to be able to give the appearance that he has, but it's better than nothing.]
You'll be feeling the effects of what they did for a while, but it'll start to pass in time.
[At the very least, the 'migraine' he'd awakened with had! If you're a bit more messed up due to death method...well, sucks to be you, he supposes.]
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Ma-
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if you open it, it contains some carrot sticks and broccoli. ]
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[He crawls to the box and knocks it over, grabs whatever his hand finds, and shoves it in his mouth.]
[Broccoli apparently??]
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I... I never thought about it that way...
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That's an interesting way to look at it, but simply because a hawk would use it as a perch doesn't mean it was intended to be one. [Just like how Myriam's box didn't magically turn into a toilet. By all accounts, it's still a box.]
Going by its actual purpose, it's a stepladder.
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Mr Shields! Listen to Mr. Shields!
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Why are they even discussing this? Does Blackquill need to sign a confession in his own blood or what?
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Then he finally notices his surroundings. So these are the "white walls"... And there, right in front of him, is that infernal creature in a suit. Ignoring everyone else there for the time being, he's staggering straight over to it.]
Badger! I honoured the terms of our agreement. Where is Athena?
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"Oh for crying out loud."
Seriously, he was JUST shot in the arm, what, two weeks ago - and in more dignified circumstances, too - and now this? Excellent. Wonderful. Splendid.
But once he becomes more aware of his surroundings, annoyance quickly turns to rather more serious apprehension. He would have trouble believing he was dead even if he WEREN'T dressed in a gown and surrounded by white walls. Maybe this is some kind of punishment? Maybe his lifestyle has finally taken a toll on him, and the fact that he was pretty sure he stopped feeling bad about murder by the sixth or seventh time he watched it happen was instead, as part of him sometimes feared, just a sign he was going to lose it for good sooner or later. Maybe he really should retire and turn to a peaceful life of selling sweets and pastries.
But then again, he most definitely was shot and lost a lot of blood, and there certainly are enough people here that this would have to be a very elaborate mass hallucination.
He stands up and his hand reflexively moves to support his aching shoulder. A bandage would be nice. Ugh.]
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...
[aha, it was... Mr. Doe, right on time.]
[she wondered if it was safer to speak up or not to speak up this time.]
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1/2
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Oh.
Knowing what happened didn't stop him from reaching up and clutching his chest, thumping it a fist because it didn't seem like there was still a knife to be removed. As a coffee enthusiast, let's just say it's not his first heartburn rodeo.
Nor is it the first time he's woken up in a hospital gown. So wait, is he dead or not? Either way... ]
I'm glad it's over.
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In comes rolling THREE bottles of water, and then a box of real pizza. You guys decide the flavour. ]
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Night 4
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Voice is not muffled at all.]
Why?
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