Let's Play A Murder (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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letsplayamurder2025-06-09 03:00 am
letsplayamod) wrote in letsplayamurder2025-06-09 03:00 am
Entry tags:
LPM Test Drive
Greetings, mortals.
I thank you for accepting my plea. From across universes, I have summoned you to aid me in bringing light back to this land. Here, though, in this small pocket, we are free to relax for the moment. Steel yourself, and meet with me soon.
There is much to discuss.
Welcome to the official test drive for Let's Play A Murder, an experimental murdergame! Characters will work together to unravel an oncoming threat that strikes each week with something new to tear them apart. For now, tag around with potential picks for the upcoming game and get a feel for that sweet sweet murder CR! If you have any questions, please DM
Threads from this TDM (and others if you so choose) will count towards the RP sample of the applications.
Wherever you were, whatever you were doing... you're not there anymore. Instead, you've awoken on an unfamiliar but very soft bed. The room is sparsely decorated, ornate carvings of heroic figures intermingle on the walls with hairline cracks. This place has seen better days, but, possibly, so have you.
There is a nightstand beside your bed, as naked as anything save for an envelope sealed in wax. Inside is a letter written in a careful hand, welcoming you to this place; a safe area, free of those that would cause harm. Your host had to step away briefly, but she will return. In the meanwhile, she expects everyone to obey the rules of this place.
Included in the envelope was a small bronze key - to your room, no doubt. And luck - it unlocks your door. You're free to venture out into a semicircle of these homes you've found yourself in. And you're not alone, either.
Perhaps you should say hello to your new neighbors.
You've all become acquainted with each other, and met with your gracious benefactor. She had to dip out again, but has left you all with a veritable island paradise to explore. In the center pantheon, large profiles of each of you have been cast in the stone walls, details of your life chiseled beneath them in perhaps too much detail. Along with a set of rules cast on a bronze plaque. Seems straightforward enough.
Beyond that, it seems whatever information you'll gain will only be found by your own hand. You have the free time now, and it's a beautiful day outside. There's plenty to explore among the towering obelisks and half-standing temples. Just avoid trying to leave the edge of the island - a golden barrier will very rudely smack you in the face.
Feel free to make up locations for this. The island is anachronistic with all the amnesties of a modern home.
Purple clown? What? None of that here. But once you've found out where to leave those tribute coins you've 'earned' there's a small pile of items waiting outside your door. Some of which you might even recognize from home.
Or perhaps you've been given twenty wooden cut-outs of... who the heck is this guy.
Training exercises! In order to discern your godly nature, what better way to start than a good, very old-fashioned obstacle course.
Balance across the beams, avoid getting beaned in the head by a swinging bat. Swing from a rope. Or, if you're really feeling up to a challenge, pick up a sword and meet someone's steel with steel.
Or you can sit back and prepare medical supplies. Someone's definitely going to get hurt.
The sky darkens. Lightning overtakes the calm summers day. It's not long before the whole area is under attack.
From the very earth itself, monsters crawl from the ground; undead hands clutching rusted swords and shields. Digging themselves from their graves so that they can put you in yours. Somewhere, distantly, your mentor yells to take up arms, and is already lost in her own fray.
It's up to you to defend yourself, or to defend others. There's no honor in running away, but if you need to survive, it's not like anyone would blame you.
Congrats! You've survived the onslaught. But even as the sky clears, an ultimatum has been passed down from on high; if one of your group isn't slain by the end of the week, then the world you belong to will be destroyed.
Surely, nothing would actually be able to accomplish that, but that faint hope doesn't remove the tension from the air.
Seems that someone didn't want to take the chance.
One of your fellows has met with a gruesome end, and if up to you and everyone else to play detective and figure out just who did it. The hourglass is running out. Just try not to trip over any evidence.
Investigation’s done, it’s time for a trial! Perhaps you nailed it and someone's already confessing to their crimes. Perhaps you've been running around in circles, looking for anything that could move the trial forward. Maybe you all just decided to strip down, even if it wasn't necessary. Whatever the case, tensions are still high. Not just because you have to point out a culprit... but you have to lay down punishment for them too.
Majority vote decides, of course. This is a democracy, after all, but you can still waste time dithering on what to do next.
Astarion | Baldur's Gate 3
[Again?
That’s the first thought to cross Astarion’s mind when he wakes up in a place he has no recollection of. But, he thinks. It’s a different situation, isn’t it? He’s in a bed, for once. But that might just be the only upside.
After a quick exploration, he’s quick to leave, accosting the first person he sees.]
You. What do you know about this situation?
[He flashes a rather threatening smile, though he doesn’t seem entirely conscious of the fact that it shows off enormous fangs.]
You must know something.
III
[He’s gotten nothing useful whatsoever. Just a huge pile of wooden cutouts of an ugly human.
He deliberately knocks one over.]
This could be useful for kindling. Not much use for anything else. It’s too thin to use as target practice.
VII
Who the hell did this?
[It might be a surprise, given his general mannerisms and sarcasm, but the murder actually bothers him a great deal. Astarion actually looks angry, as he stoops down to look at the state of Usagi Tsukino. The poor girl didn’t deserve this. It’s with great effort that he doesn’t breathe in the sheer amount of blood on her.
It’s cold and congealed now, so it’d be no good even if this wasn’t someone he’d grown fond of.]
She bled out. Whoever did this to her left her after they attacked.
I
I'm not the one who brought us here, if that's what you're really asking. Beyond that- are you offering to trade? Say a question for a question.
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VII
[Sentiment's being shared by Ranma. He actually really liked Usagi. She was super nice to talk to and always brightened the room with her presence. And yet, someone had the nerve to murder her out of everyone here.]
They're not gonna get away with this.
[Spitting that out, he kneels to the opposite side of the body to help check for wounds.]
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i
[The man in question (no tentacles visible at the moment; he can hide them at will) is six feet even, with mismatched red eyes and tiny pointed ears - not to mention small fangs of his own, visible with his bright, unaffected smile. He wears form-fitting dark clothes beneath a baggy labcoat. If he's even noticed Astarion's fangs, he hasn't had any sort of reaction to them.]
I'm afraid I know absolutely nothing about the current situation we find ourselves in, friend! I was going to ask you the same thing, though perhaps a bit less ominously.
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Don't commit a sacrilege don't commit a sacrilege don't commit a sacrilege-- oh screw it. ]
You sure about that? Maybe he has a big bald spot on the back like a bullseye~? Most ugly priests do.
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vii
sloppy, some part of her mutters. another crows: is this the best they can do? hiihihiihihi! ]
... Tsukino-san didn't deserve this. [ sayo says it suddenly, kneeling by the body and examining usagi's arm. it's just as much in agreement with astarion as to silence her own thoughts. ]
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Gintaras Miketis | OC
[This felt wrong. As he stumbles into the open air, the air seems too still. The very land seems... it's not buzzing with life. There's nothing immediately wrong--aside from the fact the buildings and carvings don't seem right to him. They weren't from any of the Duvemir settlements he recognized.
He took a deep breath, placing one hand on the bridge of his nose. The large man breathes in deep. Taking in both the strange stillness and the chaos of others waking up.
Something wasn't right--]
...Ah. There aren't any Echoes here. [The realization comes to mind quickly, a bolt of lightning from the back of his mind.]
That can't be right... a place like this should be filled with 'em, even if they're long quiet or brand new.
[The words are to himself more than to anyone else. It's probably nonsense, don't worry about it.]
4.
[He draws out a sword, glancing at it with wry smile as he lowers himself into a fighting stance.]
Well, well, let's give it a chance, eh? I'm sure you can beat an old soldier like me...
[His grin flashes canines that are a little too long for a human's. His stare a little more focused than usual.]
It'd be an honor, t'be sure. Keeps the old bones from rusting too much!
7.
[Gintaras is kneeling beside the cold body of Satsuki Minazuki. One of the training swords has been placed squarely in her back. He shakes his head sadly.]
Poor lass... too careful and trusting at the same time. [He gently moves her so the sword falls out and she's laying fully on her back.]
Let's do this quickly but carefully.
1
[Sure kind of does sound like nonsense, but Cal's never been one to let that stop her. She listens politely, nodding, before looking around and examining their surroundings herself.]
Actually, lesse-
[She takes a deep breath of her own.]
HEEEEEEEEY-
[Holding up a finger to head off any immediate response, she listens carefully to the reverb, eyes turned skyward.]
...I dunno, that sounds like about the right level of echoing to me.
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7
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Ferdinand von Aegir | Fire Emblem: 3 Houses
[ All of this was quite surreal, honestly. He was pretty sure he was dead, or had been close enough that even the best Faith spells would not be able to save him. That was... scary, but not surprising. War killed men, no matter who they were. He took to the battlefield accepting that. It was worth it to bring Adrestia to her new era.
Now a mysterious mentor was saying he had a chance to become a god? Even considering it seemed rather heretical. But godliness aside he was more interested in the awful state this world seemed to be in. If his place in improving Fodlan was lost, well... it was only proper that he use his skills to help another land! Such was the duty of a true noble!
But the world is a rather big place. Even just the small area they had on offer was a lot. And it was, as expected from what the mentor told them, in a sad abandoned state. He might not be able to change anything large right now, but he could do something more local.
So you will likely find him with arms full of cleaning items and tools...going around tidying. A lot. Not just sweeping and dusting but working on all the cracks and fading paint. Polishing the beautiful statues. Hair pulled back in a tail and skin damp with sweat... yet looking delighted with his honest work. It was not so different from the tasks he would do at the Monastery, after all.]
Oh, hello! Could you hand me that cloth please?
[Watch out or he might drag you into it.]
iv
[Now this is more his speed! Ferdinand is eager and willing to jump right to proving his worth, especially in physical matters. He does the obstacle course with barely a misstep- no one could say Ferdinand von Aegir ever slept on his fitness! Of course if someone calls out to him while he's focusing on it he will happily pause to wave... and get clocked by a swinging bat. Rip.
Later at the sparing area he is... not sparing. Oh, he INTENDED to, of course. But he is almost instantly distracted by the array of weapons. At this moment he is cooing over a 7 foot long dory spear, eyes alight]
Look- you would think such a long weapon would be completely impractical for infantry. And it's weight is too light to be used on horseback. But the butt end is set with a counter weight! The range you could manage while still keeping control must be impressive-
[He's going to keep babbling about it for hours if no one stops him]
vii
[Blood has been shed.
Ferdinand is no investigator, at least not when it comes to murders. A paper trail he can sniff out like an Aegir hound, but this is beyond his abilities. So he stays back, eyes occasionally flitting to the poor young man they found this morning, the back of his head caved in.
There's sadness in his eyes, but something else too. Something he has barely showed at all their time here: anger.]
What a cowardly way to die...
[When the threat came down he was one of the many insisting they could find another way. But less commonly he suggested if death could not be avoided that it be done in open battle. For fairness' sake at least. That... was shouted down rather quickly. This killing was clearly done from behind. An act of desperation. He can't help but stew over it]
ii
[Yeah, she'll pass it over. And kind of observe the work at hand for a moment.]
You gonna need help on this? These guys look sturdy enough I can probably handle it without breaking anything.
[She pats one of the statues- making it wobble slightly on its plinth before she steadies it, the moment of panic in her eyes mercifully brief.]
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VII
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IV
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bucky buchanan | zombies
[Alright, so he knew he was the god of cheer, but now he knows he's the God of Cheer! Some of the, uh, lesser quantities at The Pantheon are reluctant to accept the greatness thrust upon them; Bucky is certainly not among them. But we all knew that, right? That's he's not among them but above-- the top of the pyramid. Oh how the mighty soar, soar into their destiny!
Bucky has already designated himself as leader. Well-- at least, leader of weekly cardio. He runs a tight ship, clapping to the rhythm of a silent song as he surveys the saps that decided to show up. All they really need is his voice anyway. Everyone should know that.]
And one, two, three, four-- Come on, eyes on the prize-- two, three-- Keep moving!
ii. there again, they're on their knees
[If nothing else about this wet napkin of a man is impressive, those back handsprings are. Not only is he balancing with ease on the beams, but he's doing a standing back-full? What is this kid?
Bucky back-flips to dismount, turning to face you.]
Impressed? Yeah, I would be too. [Sighing, popping a non-existent collar.] Not every day you meet a Cheer God.
iii. being worshipped is a breeze
[There's a sudden scream at the end of the hall and a loud clatter. You barely have time to move and see what the commotion is before it's coming to you, Bucky rounding the corner, an army of undead in hot pursuit behind him.]
Zombies! [He screams, shoes squeaking against the tile as he trips over himself, sprinting for his life.] I told you-- I told you it's always Zombies!
iv. it's tough to be a god
[Well, it's true whether he wants it to be or not. Daiba Nana is dead. As an almost-Student Body President, Bucky takes it upon himself to initiate dialogue.]
Alright. I know what we're all thinking, so I'll just say it.
[He's quiet for a beat before pointing at Velvet.]
She did it.
(ooc: if your character is non-human, bucky will be Weird About It. if fantasy racism is a squick lmk and i can tone it down lol)
iv. bc I can’t resist that prompt
Were we all thinking that?
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ii - come at me
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IV
drowning cw
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so-called free thinkers when prompt 4
Ai Hoshino ★ Oshi no Ko
[ It's a shock three times over when she opens her eyes, waking up in this unreal and unfamiliar place and having this equally unreal story trotted out for her to try and swallow. doesn't remember falling asleep, but waking up felt just as unreal. Every breath since has carried the fog of dream logic, like this whole situation might start unraveling the second she picks at it too insistently and the most ridiculous part of all is -
Her, of all people? A god?
It's enough to make her laugh. She's got her hands plenty full trying to figure out how to be a person. That's more than enough work for one lifetime.
The sun is warm and the sky is perfect, but Ai finds herself retreating into the shade of the central pantheon anyway. It's too open out there. Too many eyes, even if no one's looking. The walls in here feel closer, more solid and she feels a little less unsafe when she takes to exploring, just to make some sense of the mess she's found herself in. She's not looking for anything in particular when she sees it. Just passing through rows of other carved faces and strange murals when all of a sudden, she stops in her tracks.
Her own face stares back at her, ten feet tall and carved into stone. It's perfect, of course, just like it always is but the accuracy of the image staring back at her is a little unnerving. The curve of her cheek, the smile that suggests she knows something you don't. The light in her eyes, somehow radiant even in stone.
Nausea wells up in her throat. Her breath curls tight in her ribs, right alongside the strange spark of - what? Pride? Horror? Awe?
She gives a breathy laugh, too bright, too sharp. ]
They really got the eyes just right. [ She mutters that darkly to herself. ] That must've been hard.
[ The plaque beneath the carving doesn't inspire much more comfort. Ai crouches to read more closely, the hem of her skirt brushing against dusty tile and feels her lips pull thin as she skims it. It's too detailed - it's technically nothing secret or scandalous but knowing it's all here out in the open is just...
It's then that she senses someone behind her - another pair of footsteps beating their way through the halls, maybe - and turns slightly, flashing a picture perfect grin without missing a beat. ]
Be honest. Do you think it really looks like me? [ She angles her head towards the carved relief. ] It's almost as cute as the real thing but I think they were way too generous with the eyelashes.
iv.
[ She's not sure what she expected when they said "training". All this godly stuff so far has been way out of her wheelhouse so the obstacle course is a bit of a shock purely for how... familiar it is. It looks like the kind of thing they'd build for a variety show back home.
And as such, Ai takes it all in stride to a kind of surprising degree? Dainty as she might look, she's still a professional dancer and she's got stamina and agility to back that up. She ducks and weaves under swinging obstacles with apparent ease, and scrambles across narrow beams with the steady balance of someone who's done her fair share of precarious dancing in heels. Her breath is steady, her steps light, and her smile doesn't give way once, even under the hot sun.
Anyone watching would think she's having a whale of a time and they're not exactly wrong. In the midst of this massive upheavel, there's something comforting about a challenge she can see, something with rules and clear progress markers - something she can get right.
She steps nimbly off the balance beam with a hop, step and a skip and looking fit to burst with pride. ]
What, are you really shocked? Idols're toughter than you'd think, you know!
[ She tosses the line over her shoulder with a wink before launching herself toward the next challenge - a rope swing over a shallow gap. Nothing too dramatic. She grabs the rope with both hands, kicks off from the ledge, and - ]
Whoa-!
[ The platform on the other side is just far enough out of reach that her legs swing past it. She tries again. Misses again. Her toes graze the edge. Close. So close. But not close enough. Now she's just dangling there, caught in a rhythm of increasingly less confident swings. ]
Okay... um... I think I need a bit of a boost here...?
[ Preferably from someone who's actually tall enough for this.
She eventually gets pulled to safety (thank you, mystery helper), but the near-miss bruises her pride more than anything else. Not that you'd know it - by the time she's dusting herself off, she's laughing again. But she decides she's had enough heroic athletics for the day and retreats instead to the medical station to see about playing support. And when someone stops by for a bandage or a break, she flashes them a bright, cheeky smile. ]
Welcome to my office! [ There is no office. ] Nurse Ai will see you now! I even have stickers if you're very brave.
[ And no, she does not have stickers. ]
v.
[ One moment, the sky is a bright, innocent blue. The next, it splits open. The earth, too, heaves like it's alive. Lightning arcs in the distance and from the cracked earth, monsters begin to crawl free. Not actors in prosthetics and make up but real ones with rusted blades and empty eyes.
Ai doesn't scream. She doesn't run. She just stares, rooted to the spot with wide, shimmering eyes like a rabbit in the path of an oncoming car. The call rings out - take up arms, someone says, a sword, a shield, a staff - whatever it takes to stand and fight.
But Ai can barely process the words. Her ears are ringing. Her heart is pounding so loudly it drowns out the rest of the world. Fighting? Against those? Someone like her? The very idea of it seems unreal. She can barely hold chopsticks properly when she's nervous, how is she supposed to -
A hand, pale and rotting, bursts from the dirt beneath her and clamps cold fingers around her ankle. Her body moves before her mind does - she shrieks and kicks out, catching the thing in the face. It doesn't let go right away, but she yanks herself free with a violent twist and stumbles backward. Her heel catches on broken stone and she nearly goes down.
The battle roars around her. Screams. Steel. Blood.
It's too much. It's impossible. She can't fight - she can't even be here right now.
Ai starts to back away, panting, hands trembling at her sides. And just before she turns to flee - her gaze catches on yours for one frozen second, a long, unspoken moment. Her face twists - shame, panic, guilt, all crumpling in on each other.
And then she turns and runs. No words. No goodbye. No glance back.
For the entire battle - long after it - she's missing in action. ]
iv
[It took him a bit to recognize 'idol' as the same as 'diva', but once he does it's clear why Ai is a diva. She has that level of almost supernatural charm and poise]
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v.
Re: v.
ii
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Mutsumi "Mortis" Wakaba | Ave Mujica -The Die is Cast-
[who thought it was a good idea to let this Literal Child become a god
Ahem. Let's try this again. To most of the first day, one of the prospective gods might seem more like a fleeting ghost- or a doll. They'll see her sitting on benches, staring out into blank space, or mechanically supping on nectar and ambrosia like it's bland porridge. Any attempt at conversation is met with flinching and casting aside her gaze.
But as night falls, Mutsumi discovers a treasure in her house, and everything changes. The sound of an electric guitar, each chord carefully measured out and applied with the precision of a machine, echoes through the dusk, leading back to the young godling's house. The door's been left open, framing Mutsumi like a portrait as she strums, something like a smile on her face.]
iii.
[Outside of Mutsumi's door is a giant pile of plushies. Wait... is something MOVING inside of them? It looks almost like it's breathing, oh god-
A hand erupts from the top of the mountain, flailing around, accompanied by a muffled,] Help...
iv.
[Mutsumi isn't a fighter. Or an athlete, particularly. But... if everyone else is trying her best, then maybe... just maybe-
oh no whoops there she goes falling FACE-FIRST off the agility course in five seconds
The cushioning of the training room does little to comfort her.]
Ow.
IV
[Oof. What a spectacular wipeout. Ranma breaks from his acrobatics and stretching to perch right where Mutsumi was before her spill. Clearly someone needs to be shown the ropes on how to actually be athletic. He speaks with complete blithe:]
Y'know, I think you'd be more successful if you try landin' with your feet and not your face.
[Wonderful advice Ranma...]
Re: IV
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shaking mutsumi and begging her to use her words
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Detective Mark Hoffman || SAW
[Being knocked out and awakening in unfamiliar locations wasn't anything new for the detective. Why, just before this, he was knocked out by that bitch and had his mouth torn completely open. This couldn't have been her. If Jill Tuck was the culprit, she wouldn't make the same mistake of putting him in another trap.
He immediately begins inspecting himself for any sign of whatever his kidnapper. No injection sites, no fresh wounds aside from his freshly sewn up cheek, nothing. This won't do. He doesn't have time to stick around. He needs answers, he needs a name, and he needs to find Jill Tuck.
Hoffman exits his room, spots someone walking and whistles to get their attention.]
Hold it right there. [He approaches with a cool gait, pulling out a badge (that wasn't as easy to destroy as his other IDs but it may come in handy here) to flash like he's some spiky-haired attorney. Time to play the good detective yet again.] Detective Mark Hoffman, I'm with the Metropolitan Police Department. Care to answer some questions?
[That wasn't a request btws.]
III. Pound of Flesh (cw for saw trap in the image)
[After they've all gotten the rundown of why they're here, Hoffman... wasn't thrilled, protested alongside others they didn't have time, before going off on his own. Though the prospect of him being a god did give the detective a sense jubilation, admittedly. Power at his beck and call, deciding the fates over others... it was like he received the mother of all promotions.
Come the next day, however, all that fizzles out slightly when he opens the door and finds an rusted looking torture device outside his room. Hoffman doesn't bat much of an eye or have much reaction, other than a sound of recognition. He bends over and begins inspecting the trap like a piece of fine art.]
This shouldn't be here. It should be in the precinct, how...
[He muses to himself out loud, not breaking his focus on the RBT.]
3D. Game Over
[Oh yes, sooner or later, there will be blood.
Found slump over a stack of book in the athenaeum was the lifeless body of Vanessa Shelly. Her blonde hair matted with blood with a knife stuck in the back of her skull. Being an
(ex)homicide detective meant Hoffman's on the scene, noting the rather clean crime scene. Something caught his eye, something off with the head wound.]There isn't enough blood for this to have been the fatal blow. [He states assuredly to whoever else is around.]
VIII. hello zepp intensifies
(None of the above vibes with you, or you've got another idea for a scenario? No problem, lay it on me! I'm open to anything. Voicetesting here!)
iii
What a gruesome looking thing. Is it a weapon of some sort? It certainly has not been well maintained if it is.
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i can't believe i already have a use for this icon
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i
Mordred "Mo" Phontes | Original
[ Well. That all could have gone much worse, she supposes. She isn't exactly super stoked that her plans back home are effectively on pause indefinitely, but she's a patient woman and godhood could have its own perks.
For now she's standing in front of the rules plaque, staring(?) at them intently with a finger to her chin. ]
Hm.
4.
[ Mo's spirits have been fairly high during all of their stay so far, her chipper demeanor never faltering. But at the sight of the training swords, you get the suspicion that you're finally seeing her actually happy. There's a palpable sense of excitement practically radiating off her as she picks one of the swords up and starts examining it. ]
Hmm, not as good as my own darlings but arms are arms.
[ She faces the others, like she's about to issue a challenge-- ]
Now, anyone need any assistance? Tips and tricks?
[ --oh, never mind she's actually just defaulting to teacher mode. Guess that isn't a surprise; she's been very open about being both a knight and a combat instructor. You can take the teacher out of the knight training but not the knight training out of the teacher, it seems. ]
7.
[ Oh. Well, now that's unfortunate, isn't it? Kanan Matsuura is dead.
Mo's quiet for a moment, before moving towards the body. ]
I'll examine her.
[ Her voice is level, devoid of not just her usual cheer but any emotion, period. Flat and monotone enough to almost sound like a completely different person.
She glances at you. ]
It's a lot, so just leave it to me.
2
[he came here to read all the carvings. He is less distressed about his life being on display than some: he is a noble. His life is very public as a rule]
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Ranma Saotome | Ranma ½
[Ah, training day. Aka, the day Ranma Saotome looks the most overjoyed he's looked since arriving in this world. Being someone naturally athletic and spent his childhood training his body to be the best damn martial artist out there, this was basically his regular past time.
He could be seen going through the obstacle course, clearing most of the gauntlet without breaking a sweat or bones. Aside from getting smacked around by those damned baseball bats. That part really fricking sucked. But what is training without a few minor concussions? Half-way through it, he turns with the other braving it with a cheeky grin.]
Race you to the end.
[Later on, Ranma'll go around to anyone looking fairly strong or skilled enough to brawl and issue a simple challenge.]
Yo, wanna fight?
[Because he won't live up to the title of Combative God if he don't test his mettle.]
V. Being Worshipped is a Breeze
[Now this? This is his element. Yes, the dead he's fought in the past are spirits. But undead's still undead. And these guys are more corporeal than ghosts. It should come as no surprise to anyone when hell broke loose, the martial artist was among the first the charge headlong into battle.
Ranma hadn't bothered with grabbing any weapons beforehand. He was confident enough to take on an army of the dead with his bare hands. Even with their powers being mitigated, he still was proficient enough to back up all that confidence. Weaving around the swords swinging at his head while making it look like child's play, and retaliating with a one good punch or kick to their necks to take them out. All with a big battle-hungry grin on his face. He'll also eventually swipe a sword and shield from one of the re-dead undead.
When it looks like someone needs protecting, be it due to them not being a fighter or an undead attempting to get the jump on them, Ranma swoops right on in. Deflecting the attack with the shield in one hand, he uses both the sword and his foot to keep them at bay. Casually looking over his shoulder at the person he defended, he idly comments:]
Ya' think this'll be a regular thing here?
[Cause if so, this place might just start to feel homely.]
VII. Oh My God
[Try as they might to pretend the incentive handed down didn't exist, evidently someone couldn't keep it out of their head. Ranma wasn't naïve enough to think people wouldn't snap eventually. Still, seeing someone as lively and friendly as Klonoa sprawled out on the ground without a hint of life the cat-rabbit (cabbit?) once displayed... It didn't make being right feel all that great. He's a martial artist, it's his code to protect the innocent...
No, now's not the time to beat himself up. That won't bring Klonoa back from the death. All they can do now is avenge him and drag the bastard responsible out of hiding. The pigtailed teen kneels to the body, instantly noting the blood around his mouth.]
Look here. Did the little guy try bitin' his killer or something, or...
VIII. ~WILDCARD~
(Have another idea you'd rather do? Lay it on me, I'm flexible!)
Snow White | Dimension 20: Neverafter
[ The worst thing she can think of, perhaps, is the horrible burden of godhood. A princess, a queen, has the frailty of humanity to blame for shortcomings, for making those choices which sacrifice some for the more, or anything else. A princess or a queen is obligated to be good, but as she looks up at her statue, Snow White considers the divine obligation to be perfect. With infinite power, the fault of inaction becomes just as damning as the fault of action.
These things she keeps in her head. These things she does not reveal, because she is shrewd and clever and all the things her stories have made of her, and instead she looks to the nearest person. What is their story, she wonders? Whose hands shaped their fate? ]
Are my eyes really that sunken-in?
[ ... They are. ]
III - A princess and a priest walk into a bar...
[ Snow White gazes at the wooden cut-out, as it gazes back into her. This has gone on for a full minute now, and her thoughts are a mix of reflection on the destructive power of male-dominated priesthood and a general bemusement at this, her first exposure to the idea of anime. ]
... I fear I'm not one of yours, sir. Or your many... brothers?
[ She frowns, then shrugs and just. Starts carrying them into her room, one at a time. ]
IV - Skill check
[ Snow White is a distinguished military commander, a young woman who has fought death itself and returned with no help from life. She can wield terrible magics and knows incantations that render reality itself mud between her fingers.
None of this stops her from getting hit by a bat and absolutely eating shit into the mud. ]
Of course we're expected to do physical combat, of course it was me and not Cinderella called to this place, of course—
[ ooc: for the record, feel free to fourthwall any and all adaptations of snow white with regards to her! she's expecting it frankly. ]
1
So of course when she heard people talking about Snow White she would seek her out immediately. Sleeping Beauty here would be horrible but Snow White was less… vulnerable, in Thumbelina’s mind.
But that’s not who she finds. Despite her trying to look tall, she’s smaller than most young teenage girls… so when she slumps forward she looks even smaller.]
They are.
[It’s too familiar, she thinks. Snow used to ask if they could see something… she refused to use mirrors, after all.]
… you don’t use mirrors, do you?
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realizes i did the thing i do where i mixed up iv and vi again. lol. lmao even.
mikhail sergeeyvich manulov | oc
[Manulov wakes up in an unfamiliar place in a bed that's too big for him, and while this would be unnerving, the size of the bed inspires a desire to stay there for a moment. Roll around a bit. Be kind of opulent in a way that he doesn't usually get a chance to. It's not like he smells a larger animal and he's not prone to blackout drunk liaisons, so this probably deserves a bit more scrutiny, but...
...
Hm. Figures of myth on the walls, but they're all the old ones... curious. Well, they look a little less fucked up than the old ones. But it does inspire a bit of curiosity in him, and he begins looking for books but finds the room bare. You'd think someone so interested in folklore would have at least some books. So there is nothing of interest; it is simply time to leave the room. Sure, sure, the door's a little high, but the world isn't always made for animals of his size and those who find themselves in the residences of, say, horses or ostriches or elephants must find ways to adapt.
He leaves his room, begins to wander around, and... well. There's a not insignificant chance that the first person he runs into is, uh. Probably more human-shaped than not. And that causes him to freeze up and... puff up a bit...]
--What are you?
4.
[...well. It's hard to decide what to think about all this, but frankly, this whole thing seems a bit silly. Especially the obstacle courses and the duels and whatnot. Manulov isn't particularly interested in participating, and will not unless forced to do so. Mostly he's just, you know, loafing. Pawing through books. Not bothering to acknowledge anyone unless they seem like they are going to speak, at which point he will, without looking up from his reading, cut them off.]
Should there not be gods of knowledge as well? All this physical exertion seems geared towards a particular sort of divinity, which does not suit me.
[...neither does being a team player, apparently.]
6.
[He's not really surprised. He just kind of shrugs, honestly, with a bit of a scoff.]
I suppose if we expected anything else, we'd be fools. There is no way in which a number of random individuals would be elevated without paying some sort of price... even if they did not get a say in the matter.
After all, who would willingly choose a dead world over their own living world?
[...he's not even going to stick around, he's just going to theatrically kind of head off, because he heard himself talk and that's what he wanted, really.]
1
But fortunately, he actually has a soft spot for cats so his reaction is a smile that's actually quite friendly.]
Hello there. You're quite unusual. I'm a vampire. But not to worry, I'll not harm you.
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Quark | Star Trek: Deep Space 9
Well, I suppose this isn't too bad, as far as "waking up in unfamiliar places" goes.
[After All Of That, Quark is standing in front of the rules, an amused smirk curling the corner of his mouth, his arms folded over his chest.]
I mean, if they're recruiting people for godhood, I'm not surprised they'd choose me. [his hands shift, grasping the hem of his coat and tugging it into place, looking quite proud of himself. He turns that smirk on whomever is nearby.]
Naturally, you'd want a guy lobes like mine for that kinda job. [he gestures to his particularly prominant ears] These beauties here are all business.
III
[Whatever the most "common area" kind of place this island has, one might come to find that there are twenty wooden cut-outs, all grouped together in the middle, clearly visible. Quark stands in front of them, looking eager and excited and, once he's spotted someone (or someones), he calls out:]
Come and take a look! Get 'em while they're hot, fellow Seekers! [he spreads his arms, a wide, sharp-toothed grin on his face] Now, for only a short time, you can get a hyu-mon of your very own. Made of all natural wood, and very sturdy. [he raps on the standee's chest with his knuckles]
Nothing better to have in your room at night! [his eyes widen as does his grin, getting into his sales pitch] It can be used as a decoy, a deterant against anyone breaking in to your room. It can be used as a bench, when placed horizontal over two boxes, or even a table, if you combine two of them. Need somewhere to hang up your coats or display a special hat? It's a perfect display! It can even be useful in an emergency. It never hurts to have spare fire wood around, after all!
[he claps his hands, rubbing them together, leaning in towards whatever hapless person he's acosted]
So, how many can I put you down for?
VII [cw: blood, gore, disembowelment]
[Somewhere, out in the garden, there's a body. The pool of red seeps into the grass still, spreading from the large, gaping wound in the corpse's abdomen. It seems that a certain Berserker won't be ascending to godhood this time around.
Unfortunately for said Berserker, he wasn't just found by anyone, he'd been found by Quark. The ferengi had stumbled across the body, to his own great surprise, seeing as this is exactly what he was trying to avoid by coming here. Upon spotting the corpse, Quark had stumbled back, tumbling as his foot caught on one of the stones in the pathway. Which is why he's now on the ground, scrambling back away from the crime scene, screaming his head off.]
iii
...Are people actually buying these?
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icon mule time--
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iii - yeah i'm sending both my depressed blue bitches to the same prompt what OF it
gimme your tired your poor your huddled masses yearning to breathe free & your depressed blue girls*
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iii (I am a SHEEP)
c-c-combo breaker (VII)
Alex Browning | Final Destination
[ Alex has been a bit of a whirlwind from the moment he wakes up. Allegedly people are here by choice. That feels wrong. That sounds wrong. All of this, it's wrong, and Alex cannot, will not sit still.
So he explores the island. Carefully. Slowly. Literally jumping at every snapped twig. Not like there's really any life here...but no life, that doesn't mean something can't get you. Ms. Lewton was all alone in her house, after all. So was Tod. And there was no one else except for him and Clear around when—
Not thinking about it. Anyway.
Alex finds the edge of the island. It looks like a long way down. Perfect way for someone to have an untimely demise. Hesitantly, he reaches a single finger up to try see if the air feels any less stagnant and dead, but. Well. It bounces off a golden barrier. ]
...
[ He frowns, nods, clicks his tongue. ]
Yeeah, this is fucked.
iv
[ Okay if Alex has been an anxious mess before, like, hahahahahahhahahaha you GUYS!
He stands frozen, watching everything, eyes dashing from the balance beam (is that even steady? you could fall and break your neck—) to the swinging bat (the amount of force in that thing, what if it hits just a little too hard—) to the goddamn swords, and— ]
Ohhhh this place is a fucking death trap.
[ Sweaty and serious, Alex starts going around checking everything. Every concern. He's not taking part in the obstacle course, no, but he's trying to see if it's up to code. ]
vii
[ Dead. Someone's dead. Alex- he hadn't even really talked to her all that much, but the girl with the colorful hair and a missing arm, Brooklynn, lays dead before him and it's
It's surreal. It's weird. It feels like going to the morgue again, because her body's so...normal. Lips blue. But no horrific, bloody wounds. No gaping holes, no (additional) missing limbs, no mangled remains that used to make up a person. ]
Sh... Shit.
[ It's all he can manage to say.
It feels weird. Coming onto it after the fact. He's grown used to watching it happen. ]
iv
Looking for a place to start my friend?
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II; I think someone is behind me
there is someone....walking behind you......
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Lebkuchen | Little Goody Two Shoes
[ Lebkuchen is... not necessarily thrilled about the current situation, but she's not upset either. There's a sense of relief coming off her, but she's also exceedingly cautious as she roams the rest of the island. She did take a moment to look at all the profiles... but decided to leave after having a glance at the rules plaque.
Eventually she finds herself in the kitchen - baking would probably be a good way to clear her head. ]
My... what is all this?
[ She stands in front of all the modern appliances, the fridge and stove especially, opening and closing them with equal parts curiosity and confusion. ]
Isn't there an oven anywhere...?
[ She is saying this while. Literally opening an (electric) oven. ]
4.
[ ...
...Yeah, this one's for her to sit out. But she's not doing nothing. While there's some medical supplies already prepared (and fresh bread, because of course she brought bread, energy is also important???), it seems that she's been granted healing as part of her god powers. So she's watching everything unfold from a makeshift swing, trying to keep an eye out for anyone that might actually be injured.
If anyone does fall or look seriously hurt on the obstacle course (or from any other activity) she gets up from the swing right away, quickly making her way over. Her voice is gentle as she speaks: ]
Are you all right?
[ For anyone who actually manages to finish without any issues though she still waves them over, all smiles. ]
My, you actually did it. [ Her tone is a impressed but there's also... a playfulness to it? ] No scrapes or bruises to look at?
[ And if you're a fellow bench warmer... well there's plenty of room over here. And bread. It's good bread! ]
Wildcard!
[ hmu if you have another idea! ]
2
Right? This stuff is all- stone age archaic.
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E-123 Omega | Sonic the Hedgehog (Games/IDW)
"I Couldn't Even Beat Gamma Or Beta." [ 2 ]
"Worthless Consumer Models!" [ 5 ]
5
But it didn't take long for him to be delighted by the war machine- if there is one thing Ferdinand von Aegir responds to it is confidence! So When Omega charges in, Ferdinand is close behind, his lance at hand
"I will cover your flank!"
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Re: 1
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cw for small brief gore description
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Upon coming across one of these....beings, Luna flares her wings threateningly, stamping a hoof.]
THOU! What is the meaning of this? What manner of creature art thou?
[Bro That's A Whole-Ass Horse]
ii. training
Thou'rt excellent climbers, with those hands! Come, thou canst do it!
iii. battle
Those of you who cannot fight, retreat to safety! We shall handle this!
ii
[ He is kinda half way up the wall, having rushed the start of the course and well... starting to lag from not pacing himself.]
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ARRIVALUNA!
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Velvet | Original
[ One of the first things Velvet wanted to ask their mysterious benefactor is whether she got the right person, because this feels like it should be a mistake. Like, sure, Velvet probably isn't the absolute worst choice for this alleged godly world-saving business, but that's because she knows the bar could always be six feet deeper. She's still bottom-of-the-barrel, as it were.
After finding the center pantheon while exploring, she suddenly wishes she could just tear it down somehow, impulsive a thought as it may be. Seeing her visage there filled her with discomfort—too much attention, too public, too this-and-that. But it's what she sees chiseled underneath her carving that especially annoys her.
You might catch Velvet in the middle of defacing a very small portion of that description underneath her carving, grumbling to herself. ]
Thanks, lady, because I really needed to worry about this—
iii.
[ Velvet had left the tribute coins with some small hope she'd get something she could use for making puppets. The novelty of exploration wore off a while, especially for someone who was normally a homebody.
What she gets instead are a bunch of wooden cut-outs, which gets her pinching the bridge of her nose. ]
Why did I expect anything else.
Hey, you! [ Yeah, you! ] Got any use for some free kindling?
iv.
[ As allergic as Velvet is to nearly all forms of exercise, she did have to admit there's merits to a physical test to try figuring out their so-called godly powers.
This is not the same as actually being able to cope with a physical test, because all it takes is a baseball bat to the head for her to crumple like a house of cards. It probably looks very silly, considering she's like 5'11" and has a pair of metal legs, falling over with a clang.
...
She's not moving.]
II
[Downsides of these being in public, someone's bound to walk in at any time. Such as...]
Worry about what?
[... a nosy pigtailed teen, nonchalantly peeking over Velvet's side, having caught her scratching out a portion of the blurb and decided that sneaking up on her is the best course of action.]
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Boromir | LOTR
Usually, he might have been at the head of the group demanding answers. But throughout the chaos of arrival, Boromir has instead seemed oddly distracted. Once or twice, he rolls a shoulder or rubs at his chest, like he's working out some invisible ache. He's taken a seat on the stone steps leading up to one of the ruined temples. In a little while, he'll get up and explore - really, he ought to be doing that right now. But...well, in a little while.
If someone joins him, though, there's no trace of unease in his demeanor. He offers an easy smile.]
How goes it?
ii. training
They're unprepared for whatever dangers this world has to offer. So, yes, this training is clearly needed. He can't say he's sure obstacle courses are sensical, but he visibly perks up once swords and shields come into it.]
Well, now! [He's testing the practice blades like someone who very obviously knows what he's doing.] Will you show me what you know?
iii. battle
Boromir is in his element on the battlefield. It's really the only possible reason for him to be here - for better or for worse. Their enemy does not have overwhelming numbers, but he doesn't exactly feel stellar about their own forces. Green, most of them, and struggling with unknown, volatile magics to boot.
He draws his sword and hefts his shield, falling naturally into barking orders. Someone's got to take control before they all collapse into a messy rout, and their delightful host is not proving to be much of a battlefield commander.]
Alright, listen up! Fighters, form a line! Everyone else, to the main hall!
[Not too many of these foul undead things - he shouldn't need to spare someone to go with them. They need to get to properly drilling as a unit when this is done. All of that individual training can only take one so far.]
ii
...I know not to play with sharp objects?
[Does that count. Does she pass.]
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ii
Otto Octavius | Spider-Man 2
So, what? Did they just grab any old schmucks for this?
[Maybe he doesn't exactly look like "any old schmuck", considering the massive robotic tentacle arms. But as far as choosing gods for a new world goes - and that is a concept we're all going to have to deal with later - he does have to question the selection process at play here.]
ii. training
Careful, now.
[He is. Also here to sort of laugh at people going through the obstacle course.]
iii. post-battle
After the dust has settled, he seems almost...sheepish, like he's sorry anyone here saw him do that at all. His arms curl close against his back, and he doesn't quite meet anyone's gaze.]
Is anyone hurt?