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.
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.
no subject
[He touches his stitched up cheek with two fingers. There's even a padlock and a key in it. If it fell into the wrong hands, they'd have one grisly murder to go through.
Hoffman sets the RBT down, looking at the stockpile of 'goodies' in Ferdinand's arms.]
Looks like I'm not the only one with souvenirs from home.
no subject
He is very happy to have a conversational out, so to speak]
A-ah, yes! Most of it are things I do not recognize, but I did acquire some fine tea from home.
i can't believe i already have a use for this icon
Tea, huh? I'm more of a coffee guy myself, personally.
no subject
I do not have much of a tolerance for coffee. It gives me the shakes. But... I have grown to appreciate the taste to a degree.
i
I don't mind, detective, but this is hardly your jurisdiction, is it?