Let's Play A Murder (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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letsplayamurder2025-07-06 02:51 am
letsplayamod) wrote in letsplayamurder2025-07-06 02:51 am
Arrival
The moment is a bit different for everyone. Perhaps you were just minding your own business somewhere, others may have been in more... dire circumstances. Regardless, you were approached by a figure you can't quite picture, and they offered you an accord; in exchange for aiding them in the healing of a world lost to chaos, you would be granted something almost unheard of. Godhood.
And each of you said yes, more or less.
A blurry hand, shifting and rippling, reaches out to you. You feel a glow of warmth, unlike anything you've known before. As soon as you think you can describe it, you wake up.
The room you're in is plainly furnished, but it's about the size of a small flat. Plenty of room to stretch your legs. Don't get too comfortable, however. On the bedside table each room has is a letter; handwritten, it's wrapped around a bronze key. The lettering could only be described as the platonic ideal of 'neat and precise'.
If you are reading this, than our deal has been made. You've awoken in a place that will surely feel strange, so I want you to take some time to acclimate. Meet with the others. Breathe. I shall be along shortly.
-A
Whatever that means becomes more apparent as you step out of your housing and behold the world around you. The building you were in, and every piece of architecture you happen across, is blatantly pre-modern. Yet, something about it is otherworldly. Stone and iron and glass as far as the eye can see.
But above you was where the real questions were. It wouldn't be right to say the sun was shining on you now, nor would it be right to say it's the dead of night. Instead, the sky is a hazy mixture of both, wrapped in suffocating storm clouds that are threatening rain. Everywhere you look, into the horizon, it's the same.
Welcome home. Take your time and explore. Nobody ever said godhood was easy.
And each of you said yes, more or less.
A blurry hand, shifting and rippling, reaches out to you. You feel a glow of warmth, unlike anything you've known before. As soon as you think you can describe it, you wake up.
The room you're in is plainly furnished, but it's about the size of a small flat. Plenty of room to stretch your legs. Don't get too comfortable, however. On the bedside table each room has is a letter; handwritten, it's wrapped around a bronze key. The lettering could only be described as the platonic ideal of 'neat and precise'.
-A
Whatever that means becomes more apparent as you step out of your housing and behold the world around you. The building you were in, and every piece of architecture you happen across, is blatantly pre-modern. Yet, something about it is otherworldly. Stone and iron and glass as far as the eye can see.
But above you was where the real questions were. It wouldn't be right to say the sun was shining on you now, nor would it be right to say it's the dead of night. Instead, the sky is a hazy mixture of both, wrapped in suffocating storm clouds that are threatening rain. Everywhere you look, into the horizon, it's the same.
Welcome home. Take your time and explore. Nobody ever said godhood was easy.
Training Grounds
[The path is technically clear, but. What if some devious and incredibly business savvy girl were to say, just stick out a toe a bit in Alex's path as he backs up. You know, hypothetically.]
[Or literally, because she's gonna try tripping him to see what happens, I'm sorry even if she isn't.]
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Which. In this case. Is this devious and incredibly business savvy girl.
So either he grabs what's closest or he absolutely eats shit. Your call! ]
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[So of course the funniest option here is that Alex catches the sleeve of her jacket and down she goes with a startled cry, landing on top of him- thankfully not THAT heavily, but maybe more so than her frame would suggest.]
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As he falls, Alex maneuvers so his other hand is under his head. You have to protect the head. The head is not only vulnerable, but vital. A concussion can disorient you to the point that It won't even need to try to—
Any of his panicked rambly death thoughts are cut off as he smacks the ground and Vanity immediately lands on top of him. All of the air in his lungs rushes out. ]
Ooof- nnnngh.
[ that's all he got rn. ]
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[She groans a little, rolling off.]
[Vanity lays on her back for a second, feeling her hubris.]
Why.
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'Cause...you tripped me...you asshole...
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[ he's wiggling. get off. ]
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[She's not giving up on the lie unless he pulls video from somewhere, sorry.]
[But she has at least rolled off him and is getting back up herself at this point.]
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Rubbing the back of his head, Alex slowly pushes himself up as well, though he stays haphazardly seated on the ground. He studies Vanity with narrowed eyes. ]
How come you ended up on top, then?
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[That's- possibly plausible? Maybe a little.]
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[ we've reached an unstoppable force and an immovable object. or maybe two immovable objects. ]
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[look there was A foot involved at least]
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No way, even when I'm freaked I don't do that. [ because that explains everything??? ] The ground's even, I didn't trip over my feet like some kinda clown, just admit you did it and stop being an ass!
[ they're still on the ground aren't they. alex is at least. ]
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Sounds like something a clown would say, I dunno.
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[Hang on.]
Oh, I think we're all gods here, but flattering, thank you.
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Sure, good talk guy.
[she's just gonna turn and leave unless he stops her]
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