Let's Play A Murder (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
letsplayamod) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
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.
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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That's a funny thing to ask someone. And what if I replied that I simply had a different view of myself?
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I guess it is. I just had a feeling is all—though I’d say that’s probably a good thing. Trying to smash every mirror I see is meddlesome.
…I’m Thumbelina.
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Thorns pulling, thorns cutting and briars consuming. Sleeping Beauty eating a story to stay alive.
But no. This is not her. But it is, of course. A different version of the story played out somewhere else by the Authors far away. ]
Snow White. But somehow, I suspect you guessed that already.
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But for a moment, even if this isn’t the Blood Maiden Snow White… it’s something.]
Mm… yeah. My sister was always scared of mirrors or even anything shiny since we were kids, so, I guessed. People were talking about a Snow White being around so I kind of assumed… thought it would be better than Sleepy.
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I don't know, Schläfrig might come more in handy in this sort of situation than you'd think.
[ i love you edgy german neverafter ghost dwarves ]
But yes, I am Snow White. One version of her, anyway — obviously it's a tale that's been told many times.
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[Sadly no dwarves in Mary Skelter… she blinks.] Er, I meant Sleeping Beauty. She’s the youngest of us triplets. She, uh… has a condition. Good archer but I don’t know if I want her in the front lines… same with Snow White, too, honestly.
[She sleeps all the time if given the chance.]
You’re not a Blood Maiden, then.
no subject
[ What a fascinating moment of thought it is when she considers the possibility of that. Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, and Thumbelina. All working together towards... whatever it is a Blood Maiden does. ]
I might be. I'm afraid I am not familiar with the term.
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[She paused.] Marchen are the monsters that overwhelmed the city and keep people hostage.
As far as I know there were five other ones … though Little Mermaid and Otsuu seemed to meet a few others on their journeys in the Jail.
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[ There are remarkable things out there. She wonders if this is some fractured, mangled version of her own story at all, or something beyond it. Whether this is a Thumbelina who knows a Sleeping Beauty and a Little Mermaid and the like, or an echo affected by it.
And does the distinction even matter? ]
There are monsters in the world, that much I know, shaped both like beasts and like men. I've met plenty in my time.
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[She just had to think of Cinderella to be reminded of that particular truth.]
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[ the crunch of the apple, the light fading, the world shattering like glass- ]
1
They certainly are. [he grins up at her, sharp-toothed and clearly what he thinks is charming] It's quite dramatic, very eye-catching!
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I wish I could say that it's intentional.
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So quick to turn to flattery, sir! But yes, I suppose so, if I must accept the compliment.
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vi
Ahh- hell, hey, you okay?
[ He's got his nervous energy around him, but like, if he can get her sitting up it means she won't drown on the mud, and that's one good outcome! ]
no subject
[ She at least sits up, wiping some of the mud off of her. ]
I try very hard not to be too vain, but I cannot lie, this is embarrassing.
realizes i did the thing i do where i mixed up iv and vi again. lol. lmao even.
[ just as creepy and pale and dead as usual. no. pivot. ]
-like, it washes off, yeah?