(real quick because I did not think someone was gonna start trying to touch stuff this early)

As Silence goes to lick the gate, they taste nothing. In fact they don't even feel anything, their tongue passes straight through the pole like it's air. Seis, who is attempting to lean on this nonexistent gate, likely falls straight through or at least loses their balance a little depending on how much they're committing to the lean.

A certain person happened to wander through the area around the time the true rumor of the mysterious mansion was in full swing. Overhearing the conversations from the locals was enough for Kewl to set on their way to see what was really going on with this mansion place.
They walked up to the gates with curious confidence, stopping to gaze at the building's outline with an :0 expression on their face. After blinking away the initial questions, they noticed Silence and their interaction with the gate. Kewl glanced back at the main outline before jogging over to Silence.
"Heya, does that metal taste good?"

((@Marsh I'm sorry they got distracted with the gate lol I hope this doesn't sidetrack the narration too much))

"Oooh, a ghost thingy?"
Kewl repeatedly waved one of their arms through the neartest part of the gate. Seeing that it was not solid, they thought it would be a good idea to do like Silence and stuck out their tongue to try tasting the gate.

Crimson had his coat tied around his waist, he was eating some sort of kebab from the Gods knows where.  As he shoved the meat kebab in his mouth he looked around at the sect.  "Modern tech is good to have here...too bad Aster isn't here, he could modify my phone for this place or even my Limiter.  Or best yet, put a tracker on Fang and Flare!" Crimson stopped and thought for a moment before frowning.  "Yeah, let's NOT do that...maybe just get them a phone for themselves...".  As Crimson walked past the building and seeing a few faces he knows he almost jumped out of excitement.  "Silence!  Seis!" He called and made a mad dash over to the gate and ran right through it and tripped onto the ground.  Ouch, this guy is an idiot.  As Crimson pondered his existence and laid on the ground cursing he wonders if anyone saw him....

Crimson rolled onto his back and waved at Seis.  He knew what she was trying to do.  "It's alright Seis.  I'm fine.  You should dust yourself off, you're covered in dirt."  Crimson rolled off his back and stood up, brushing off his clothes and cracking his neck.  He walked over to Seis and brushed her off a bit and smiled happily.  "Right!  All clean for the most part!  What's all the commotion around here anyways?  And uh, what is Silence doing?" 

The doors of the estate open and a middle-aged lady rushes out to greet you.

"Ah, you must be the detectives I've hired. Please come in."

The gate is now firmly shut behind our lovely group of detectives. Everything occurs on cue. The doors to the mansion open, and a generic looking lady dressed in an Victorian housekeeper uniform rushes out at the right time. Her lips align with the words being said but the voice is still clearly the same narrator, just in a more feminine tone. As you get closer to the mansion however, it becomes apparent that the narration also gets louder.

(Since Crimson is blind, he shouldn't be affected by any of the visual trickery going on. So all he experiences is the odd narration coming from the direction of what appears to be a mansion.)

"The person?  What's that mean?  Are we in trouble somehow?"  Crimson asked Seis.  He knew well enough that this place isn't material, otherwise he wouldn't have fallen through a gate.  Could this be something akin to a hard-light bridge?  Or maybe physical illusions?  Whatever it is, it's quite odd.  

(Oh snapadoodledo!  That's very nice of you to do Marsh!) 

"A murder has taken place and I'm hoping you can find the culprit." The housekeeper explained as she led the detectives inside.

You see the lady in the uniform makes her way through the front doors, clearly expecting everyone to follow her inside. Once inside, if that is what you decide to do (who knows there might be secrets in the front garden or maybe I'm just wasting your time), you're greeted with a lavish living room. Pristine patterned rugs, red velvet couches, a coffee table made of rich dark wood, all tied up with a simple brocade wallpaper. There are no other doors besides the one main entrance, instead the left and right walls lead straight into the other parts of the house. To the left is a short hall containing multiple doors (most likely the living quarters). To the right is a dinning room with a door that presumably leads to the kitchen. Though of course, these are only the small details.

You see before you, our three suspects. A young lady, perhaps in her late-twenties. An older thirty something man. And a younger man, most likely younger than the other two.

The housekeeper introduces, "This is the late young mistress' handmaiden, she was in charge of taking care of the young mistress' appearance and doing her bidding." The handmaiden is trembling and on the verge of tears, it seems she's too scared to say anything.

"This is our gardener, he is in charge of trimming the bushes and keeping everything alive." The gardener crosses his arms, "I tell ya, I'm innocent, wasn't even in the house when everything went down, was out back watering the flowers." 

"This is our chef, he's only been here a month but the late young mistress loved what he cooked." The chef looked terrified but there is also a hint of excitement in his eyes.

You may choose to talk to one of the three suspects, talk to the housekeeper, or just do whatever you want. Walk through the walls, try to find out where the narration is coming from and why it sounds like a child, you could even lay down and pretend you've become one with the fake illusion floor that's sitting a foot off the actual ground. Nothing is real.

"Ooooh, darn, a murder. That definitely doesn't sound good!" Kewl muttered things to themselves as they listened to the narration. They decided to ignore that the things and people around weren't real. 
They approached the gardener, standing in front of him for a few seconds while they thought. They had taken on the role of a "detective", so what to do now? Detectives investigate. They... ask questions? About whatever they want to find out.
"Can I see the flowers!?"

Francis followed Kewl and the gardener, gushing over the flowers and such. A true artist at heart, he mumbled to himself, "Oh, I must draw these!" It doesn't matter that all of this isn't t real, Francis still thinks it's beautiful. Obviously, he's checking everything out and focusing on the tiniest of details.


Seis walked up to and stared at the handmaiden as intensely as he could, not really aware that he was staring so hard. Seis was just curious and unsure of how to comfort the lady. Not only that, he had to help solve a mystery! It was like one of his video games! How exciting! 

"Uhmm... hiiiii?" Seis started with. "...Hhhhow are y-you?"

That big ol eye Seis stared with seems a little frightening if you don't know him very well. He's just a bit too excited to help.



Silence was immediately up to the chef, talking excitedly, "So you, like, cook stuff?! Could ya show me the kitchen?"

Well, Silence is thinking about food, and is a little sad the chef isn't taking them to the kitchen yet. Not that any of the food could possibly be real.

Seis bursts into tears too, hyperempathy taking over. All of this is fake, but Seis can't help but feel empathy! She thought about how she'd feel if her abuelo died, which really fueled her own tears. The handmaiden must have been very close with the current deceased, which must be why she's crying! Now all Seis is thinking about is comforting the handmaiden.

"I-I'm s-s-sorry!" Seis said, trying to hug the handmaiden to the best of her ability. "It's, uhm, okaaaaaayyyyy!" Seis also tries to give a comforting pat on the back.

There's a sharp wince that causes another screeching microphone feedback.

Oof, dead family... oh well 

You can't see the shrug but whoever it is so very obviously just shrugged. 

It seems your pat on the back actually worked. The handmaiden leans into the contact, she's a little more coherent now. "Th-thank you." She sniffles.

The chef relaxes slightly at that. He turns his attention back to the detective. "Sure I could show you the kitchen, though I'm not supposed to touch anything until this case is cracked." He leans in a bit, jokingly whispering, "Ms. Housekeeper over there's scared I'll mess with food."

Outside, everything pauses, completely still and once the voice is done narrating what goes on inside, the flowers and plants return to their swaying-in-the-fake-wind idle animation. Oh and of course, the flowers smell like absolutely nothing, because they are literally nothing.

Bold move detective, though a little on the nose. The gardener narrows his eyes, taking a defensive stance "What're you implying huh?"

Last edited by Marsh (April 5, 2023 20:15:25)

There's pause, not too long but just long enough that it meant something Kewl said just threw our dear narrator off.

Ahem. The gardener shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Yer' here for the murder case yeah? Why don't ya go check out the body or the crime scene or something. Then you'll see I've got nothing to do with this." 

Honestly, at this point Somnus is just ready to move the vague blob of a plot forward which is why once inside, the housekeeper greets them immediately and without a word starts moving through the house, expecting Kewl to follow.

The housekeeper stops at the end of the hall, standing before a white door with a brass handle. There's even a stupid little nameplate that reads "Alice Lindall."

Skirting copyright by a centimeter!

The door is triggered by proximity so if Kewl approaches, it will swing inward with a little sprinkle of fake confetti to show an extremely messy murder scene. There's dried, day-old, blood splattered on the walls, even some on the ceiling, and there's a very large puddle of it on the floor as well. At the center of it all is a figure, similarly drenched in blood, sitting in a chair slumped over the desk in front of her. Her neck is twisted weirdly, a weird pixilated censor over the giant gash that looks like it should've cut her head off.

There's an open book lying on the desk, something she was presumably reading before whoever had decided to try and detach her head from her body. Someone had written words in blood onto the open pages.