Let's Play Clue - Act III (Climax & Epilogue)

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CluedoKid
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Post by CluedoKid » Mon Apr 23, 2018 11:54 pm

The Honorable Earl of Gules flung open the door from the hall, and sashayed languidly into the feasting hall, flopping onto a settee by a gigantic three-story window. He had already, and perhaps foolishly dismissed his own servants several hours ago. They went back down the tram to the main village. And where forth has that Herr Wiess gone to? A drink is what he could really use; a spritz of gin in a flute brought right to him. His jaw bubbled as he tried to muster some words.

"Boddy, dear, this is a dull affair, I really ought to say."

Mr. Boddy looked uneasily at the blond waif of a lad he was all too well acquainted with. Normally, he enjoyed the Earl's company with a degree of toleration.

"Deaths, Harry, generally are somber occasions."

"Well how about that, the old bird, quite the novelty, a fling if you will, in my history chapters, but beyond that, even in death as you say, one needn't drudge me up to this bore of a fete."

"If that's how you feel about it," Said Boddy, looking to the door, hoping nobody was seeing him interact too much with the Earl, "You are welcome to leave?"

He felt something wet smack the back of his neck. Ew, what was that?

He turned and saw Harry Gules childishly toying with a slingshot.

"Really."

Harry yawned and flopped up from the settee.

"Must be off now."

He exited, and sometime later, perhaps less effortlessly than intended, tossed the slingshot into some oddly-shaped spear closet, among various other trinkets lost in shadow.


----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Clarke Raven remained in the tram reception, though everyone else had vacated. Even Herr Wiess had claimed Raven's luggage, reminding him of his room location and when dinner would be served. Raven could not be bothered.

He was trying feebly to get his latest recording working on the gramophone, for hours now. He had been intent to show off his latest recording of Barry Bubble's Baby, You're Right Up my Rhine Valley! to the other guests, and now they had all moved on, while he was stuck fixing the machine, but the ancient thing seemed to had scratched the vinyl.

"Drat this thing!" He spat.

He wondered how many copies were produced at the studio. In his stomach was the pit of feeling of wanting to get back. At the very least, get the record to play. And afterall, he only came to this place at Harry's urging. What of the Baroness? Just another groupie clinging on the hottest things that came her way. And now she's dead.

"To blazes!"

He angrily flipped the gramophone, causing it to smash onto the carpet. The trumpet detached rolled on a curve under a velvet seat.

Clarke sighed and looked out the window into the fog where presumably the tram awaited.

"What else doesn't work around here?"

(Cue ClueLover)
Last edited by CluedoKid on Thu Apr 26, 2018 10:41 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Post by ClueLover98 » Tue Apr 24, 2018 3:53 am

Miss Julep sat at the hot spring, breathing in the steam of the hot spring. A woman like the Baroness couldn't be dead. She may have been on the older side, but she was still healthy and up and going. Death wasn't supposed to come to the Baroness. It came to gamblers who bet too much with the wrong person. Death was for old hags counting away the days. Death was supposed to be for children who starved on the streets. But the Baroness? She was none of these, as she remembered 2 years ago.

Despite the tavern that Miss Julep worked at being dingy, the Baroness entered anyway, anger emanating from her face. She sat on a stool, somehow still managing to reserve her posh manner.

"Make me something new. Something that hasn't been done before. Something almost regal. And I expect it to be strong. You're a woman; you know how tough life can get," the Baroness told Miss Julep, adding a hearty guffaw at the end.

As Miss Julep searched the kitchen, she didn't know how to respond. The usual customer was a drunkard or a poker player, sometimes even someone waiting to meet a friend. But a woman dressed head-to-toe in velvet? That was unexpected, even uncalled for. Blue curaçao that Miss Julep bought herself would work for the Baroness, as it matched her blue fascinator. Pear vodka from a patron who broke a table in a drunken fight would match as well. Topping it off with apple juice and blackberry compote, she slid the drink to the Baroness.

"What's your name, madame?" questioned the barmaid in hopes of breaking the ice.

"Baroness von Blau. I'd like to think that first names are an unnecessary addition to one's name. Just knowing one's family and lineage is important, no?"

"I'm, er, Miss Julep. Um, how's your drink?" Miss Julep was stuttering. She hoped the Baroness wasn't picky. At this point, most of her customers just wanted a drink and got it over with.

"It's wonderful, darling. I have a proposition for you. Work for me. I host lavish parties in my estate in Switzerland. The winters might be harsh and unforgiving, but the power and pay will make up for it," the Baroness said, batting her eyes. A woman of her standing was obviously not used to having her offers refused.

"Not to be rude, Baroness, but I really don't think I'm fit for your job. I like working here, but I'd love to take your offer any other time!"

The rest of the conversation was a blur. The Baroness surprisingly took it well, inviting her to come to her estate whenever she felt like it. And now more than ever, Miss Julep needed to come meet the Baroness. A female was not suited for bartending, or at least that was what she was told when fired a few days after the encounter with the Baroness.

Walking back to the mansion, memories of that one night clouded Miss Julep. Truly a woman like her couldn't have "passed away in her sleep". Something was off. Perhaps she was killed by...

That metal object! In a pile of snow, there was a rather disfigured metal item. Perhaps it was a razor? It didn't matter, as Miss Julep pocketed it and walked into the manor, ready for a stiff drink.

----

On the other hand, Maharaja Mango was waiting in the lepidopterarium. That Mr. Boddy said that he wanted to talk to the Maharaja regarding Baroness von Blau. Having met her once or twice at one of her parties, he tried blocking out the memories. He didn't want to talk much about them, not like he did ever talk much.

Mr. Boddy entered the room, a grin on his face. Raising an eyebrow, he read from a small book with the Baroness' crest embedded to it. The Maharaja gulped in fear, knowing what was in there.

"When the butler's muscular arm circled the king's waist, bringing his body flush against his, he couldn't miss that rock hard, hot, thick friend[/ pressed against the butler's stomach."

"The maharaja buried his face in the butler's neck and licked at the sweat on his skin. He dropped a kiss on his servant's neck making him shiver. Then he licked the skin from the butler's collarbone up to his ear, drawing a tortured moan from him."

"His exotic lover continued to stroke--"

"Enough," the Maharaja told Mr. Boddy. "I've heard enough from you. I know what you're thinking. All of this is fake. You know what a creative woman Blau is... was."

"If there's something I know about Baroness von Blau, it was two things: she loved to write, and she only wrote what she saw. In this case, all of it. Can you imagine if we released these rather unique writings of hers. We could call it a posthumous bestseller. It's a large market in America; I'm sure we could sign a deal of some sort. Imagine all the money you'd earn!"

The Maharaja was frozen in fear. If anyone knew about this, his life would be over. A man in power in love with other men? Only the Baroness knew this, and that was because he trusted her. Or so he thought...

"Anyways, I'm sure my love would want me to reproduce her work. I'm sure she'd want the people to read her works. She'd be a literary legend!" Boddy enthusiastically shouted.

"I can see the fright on your face. I'm sure if I were... in your position, I'd be apprehensive too. I'll give you until tomorrow to agree, Whether or not you agree, I'm having it be published. But you can choose whether you want the money."

Boddy left the lepidopterarium, staring at a butterfly with blue-green wings. "And I'll take that too," he said, snatching a stained glass lamp with colors reminiscent to those of the butterfly. "Remember you have until tomorrow to decide. As the Baroness would say, toodles!"

The Maharaja, at this point, was seething. Although he had barely spoken throughout his visit, a new series of words flew from his mouth.

"I'm going to kill that man."

----

That night, Miss Julep couldn't sleep. That Boddy man certainly had something to do with the Baroness' passing. All she could think about was how she passed. Did she truly die in her sleep? Or was she poisoned? Or stabbed? It was possible that she'd never know. Perhaps a glass of water would help Miss Julep forget.

After roaming endless hallways, Miss Julep realized she had no idea where she was going. Until... she noticed, at the foot of the stairs leading to the exit of the manor, there was a horrible figure. Laying there was Mr. Boddy's corpse. In the dark, nothing was noticeable. She couldn't distinguish how he died. And he definitely didn't die at the stairs; he was obviously dragged there. But despite all the questions Miss Julep had: one thing was for sure.

Mr. Boddy was murdered.

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Post by PeachFreak » Tue Apr 24, 2018 10:35 am

[Excellent intros, everyone! I'll post a story segment segueing us into Act II as soon as I can and cue Jamie to make our first suggestion!]
"Like my daddy always says, give me a good neuromuscular poison any day."

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Post by PeachFreak » Thu Apr 26, 2018 12:25 am

Image

A section of decrepit wall sliding away, destroying the illusion of a fresco knight battling a snail, Lieutenant Flax stumbled out the secret passage, bringing up a hand to shield her eyes from the cloud of dust coming in her wake. Glancing around, she noted she must have still been in some sort of lower level, a damp basement perhaps carved into the very core of the mountain itself. Water was dripping from somewhere with a steady plunk. However, before Olga could take proper ownership of her surroundings, her already scattered thoughts, hidden beneath a more collected exterior, were interrupted by a hollow noise echoing from somewhere nearby. Thump, thump, thump.

The woman moved swiftly, boots echoing along the stone floor until she found herself standing before an ancient wooden door with a metal bar positioned firmly across the knob. Someone or perhaps something was on the other side, trying desperately to get out. Thump, thump, thump.

Brow knitting, Flax took a breath before, in one strong motion, releasing the restraint. And all at once, the door flew open, allowing a soft yellow light to flood the corridor. Standing there on the other side was one of the red-faced tram attendants, who had assisted the guests with their luggage earlier that evening.

“Oh! Gott sei Dank! Someone is here!� The young man’s eyes widened before he turned to shout over his shoulder. Shuffling out the confines of the apparent servants’ quarters came a chubby woman with blonde curls framing her face, a trim young lady still in an apron, and another tram attendant, dark hair sticking to his forehead. “We are so happy to see you! Somebody came and locked us in. We have been trapped down here for over an hour.�

“Two hours. Mon Dieu,� the youthful female servant piped in.

“Somebody locked you all in?� Lieutenant Flax asked, eyeing them.

“Ja, and no one comes down here but we four. The other servants went back to the village on the tram hours ago,� the attendant continued. “Only we remain through the night with Weiss should the Baroness...." He trailed sullenly off.

Before Flax could inquire further, however, a strange commotion seemed to be building to an abrupt climax overhead. There were voices, shuffling footsteps, perhaps a scream.

“You are to wait here. That is an order, you understand?� the Lieutenant said firmly, and turning to find her way back through the cellar’s corridors, she was soon bounding up a winding metal staircase, one that seemed to rock beneath her with each step.

Five minutes of aimless wandering later, however, she still found herself standing among the other guests in the chateau’s towering entrance hall. And there at the foot of the stairs was Mr. Boddy himself, crumpled in a bloody heap.

--

"This is where we stand," Lieutenant Flax said darkly, arms tucked behind her back as she moved along the feasting hall table, where she had requested (or perhaps demanded) Herr Weiss gather everyone in her absence. After entrusting the Princess to the care of the more trustworthy ladies, of whom there was really only one by the name of Yukon, she had taken a handful of gentlemen with her into the snow, to the tram, in hopes of conducting a proper military investigation.

There, she discovered the radio, the sole connection to the dock at the mountain's base, had been smashed to pieces. With no further clues to be found, she finally removed herself back to the servants' quarters for another word with those stragglers left behind. And that perhaps provided the answer she was seeking.

"Earlier this evening, we arrived by cable car and were met by Mr. Boddy, who, perhaps feigning despair, informed us the Baroness had died in her sleep. That much is true," Flax continued, studying the faces seated about her in the dark, lit only by the flickering candles. "We were shown to our rooms and seated for dinner. At this time, someone stole my service pistol. For what? I do not know, but I pursued them throughout the house for some time. I did not catch them."

Pausing by a window to watch the snow still swirling through the air, she ducked her head and cleared her throat.

"As we went about our own business, the majority of the servants returned to the village, apart from a few stragglers, whom I discovered locked in the basement. They remain there now and can vouch for one another the entire evening," she said. "However, the cable car did not return from its trek down the mountain. That is also true. We all thought perhaps it had broken, a side effect of the storm and mediocre Swiss engineering. However, upon threat of torture, I have compelled the primary car attendant to make an admission." She turned back to the group.

"Tonight, when he inspected the controls, he found the operational key had vanished. And so, I submit to you, not broken, sabotaged. This servant, poor peasant that he ism crushed under an unforgiving aristocracy, thought perhaps he had misplaced it, and rather than admit fault and face expulsion, he concocted a story in hopes of finding it later. The key has not yet, however...what is the saying, turned up?" Lieutenant Flax offered a shrug.

"But , yes, yes. We know all this. Alas, what is the...point? Yes, what is the point? The point is, someone in this very room murdered our host. I cannot say whether or not he deserved it, but it was no accident that he found himself at the bottom of the foyer stairs," she remarked with a distant sort of gravity before taking her own seat at the table's head. She placed her palms on the wooden top, leaning forward as if to share some secret with the others.

"Speaking as an agent of the royal throne of Prattonichniy, it is in the best interest of the nobility in this room for this matter to conclude expeditiously and cleanly, lest we suffer an international incident. With no radio, I will not be able to contact my comrades tonight. When that message does not come, they will assume the worst, and and so, we have but brief hours until this house is stormed by my homeland's finest."

So much for not causing an international incident. But with this, the Lieutenant clasped her hands together.

"And so, unless someone would like to come forward and confess, I suggest we begin recounting our steps this evening until we can pinpoint the guilty party, yes? Or at the very least find a suitable scapegoat among us." With this, her eyes scanned the room, waiting for someone to take the opportunity to speak up.

[Cue Jamie to suggest.]
"Like my daddy always says, give me a good neuromuscular poison any day."

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Post by Jamie » Thu Apr 26, 2018 3:32 am

Gustav Weiss rose to his feet, and subtly cleared his throat.

'"Ladies and gentlemen, if I may be so bold as to be the first to reveal their thoughts on this terrible matter. I feel that I should be able to offer a unique insight into what has occurred. You will agree, will you not that someone that has shown a propensity toward violence should be considered as a candidate for our killer?"

He paused and waited for a couple of nods of accordance and then continued.

"I last saw Mr Boddy complaining that he had been attacked by one of the persons here present!"

The elderly man waited for the gasps to subside before proceeding,

"Therefore I believe that the same person must have attacked him again, only this time they killed him. I therefore propose that Mr Boddy was killed in the Music Room, with the Piano Wire, by none other than…". He pauses for dramatic effect, then points his finger at the man lounging across the room from him.
"The Earl of Gules!"

I suggest it was Earl of Gules with the Piano Wire in the Music Room.

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Post by PeachFreak » Thu Apr 26, 2018 10:24 am

[Cue BBP to disprove]
"Like my daddy always says, give me a good neuromuscular poison any day."

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Post by BBP » Thu Apr 26, 2018 2:46 pm

Mr Vermillion rose.

"Oh, that's nonsense! None of that could have ever happened! "
In a calculating way, he continues:
"While all of you seem to have spent a lengthy time with some person, there are still people of whom we have too little information to compute where they were. What exactly were you doing, Mr Shamrock, with that brick in the pantry?"

Shamrock - Brick - Pantry[/b]

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Post by PeachFreak » Thu Apr 26, 2018 3:36 pm

[BBP can disprove]

[Cue TheButlerButInnocent to disprove]
"Like my daddy always says, give me a good neuromuscular poison any day."

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Post by TheButlerButInnocent » Fri Apr 27, 2018 9:30 pm

Dr. Yukon shook her head. "Let's be sensible about this. That is not how it happened." She walked over and whispered something into Mr. Vermillion's ear. "However," she said, returning to her seat, "this does make me wonder ... with the stormy conditions outside, why would anyone go to the observatory tonight? Especially with a stained glass lamp. What do you have to say to that?" She looked suspiciously at Maharaja Mango over the rim of her glasses.

[TheButlerButInnocent suggests Maharaja Mango with the stained glass lamp in the observatory]

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Post by PeachFreak » Sat Apr 28, 2018 7:18 pm

[TheButlerButInnocent can disprove.]

[Cue Sir Shamrock to disprove.]
"Like my daddy always says, give me a good neuromuscular poison any day."

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Post by Sir Shamrock » Sat Apr 28, 2018 8:35 pm

Great Aunt Smoke pulled out a hanky. "I'm afraid I was focused on other things at the time, so I can't disprove your suggestion."
Last edited by Sir Shamrock on Sat Apr 28, 2018 10:33 pm, edited 2 times in total.

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Post by PeachFreak » Sat Apr 28, 2018 10:23 pm

Sniffing the air, Lieutenant Flax notes the room has fallen silent. Shifting her eyes from side to side, she allows them to fall on Princess Blueblood before diverting them to Mr. Mossman.

"What about you? What say you?"

[cue cacums to disprove]
"Like my daddy always says, give me a good neuromuscular poison any day."

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Post by BBP » Sun Apr 29, 2018 5:45 am

Vermillion never had much of a temper with people who were a bit slower than him.
"Listen here," he said, grabbing Dr Yukon by the coat and shaking her about until he realized he'd better be careful in this situation, "if you have anything to say about my suggestion you'd better spit it out!"


[TheButlerButInnocent: please show me one of the three cards I suggested.]

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Post by cacums » Sun Apr 29, 2018 6:25 am

Princess Blueblood narrows her eyes.

"I know nothing of the sort!" She clucks in disgust, "Address your anger towards something productive. Vengence perhaps? Maybe peppermint making as a hobby?"

[cacums cannot disprove]

[cue CluedoKid to disprove]

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Post by CluedoKid » Sun Apr 29, 2018 8:27 am

"I appear sir, to not be endowed with the answers, " Shrugged Gules, "I really can't help you, sorry."

(I can't disprove, cue ClueLover)

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Post by ClueLover98 » Sun Apr 29, 2018 4:05 pm

Maharaja Mango had taken to awkwardly shuffling his feet on the large bearskin rug under the feasting hall's table. His silence had to mean something.

"Er, I guess if the one accused can't say anything," Miss Julep intervened, "he might as well be guilty."

(I cannot disprove; cue Jamie.)

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Post by Jamie » Sun Apr 29, 2018 4:14 pm

Rosa Cappadona stood up, "Surely it must be obvious to someone else that it cannot possibly have happened this way?"

She walked across to Dr. Yukon and whispered something quietly in her ear, then returned to her seat, before dramatically declaring,"Now can we please hurry this along. I have no desire to be stuck here with you all any longer than necessary."

I can disprove.

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Post by PeachFreak » Sun Apr 29, 2018 4:31 pm

"Well, since we are all so keen on telling one another why we're wrong, perhaps someone would like to offer up an alternative," Lieutenant Flax chimed in flatly. "Although, I concur. It would be better to move along expeditiously. Do you not think so, Sir Shamrock? Ol' Smokey?"


[Cue Sir Shamrock to suggest.]
"Like my daddy always says, give me a good neuromuscular poison any day."

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Post by Sir Shamrock » Sun Apr 29, 2018 9:38 pm

Sir Shamrock jumped. "Frankly, I don't know what's worse. Being accused of murder, being stuck here, or being called 'Mr. Shamrock' like some sort of commoner."

He stared at Mr. Vermillion.

"If that's how we're gonna play this, how do you know I was in the Pantry Vermillion?"

"In fact, I think it was YOU, Mr. Vermillion, in the Pantry, with the Brick.

He then sat down, quite proud of himself

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Post by cacums » Mon Apr 30, 2018 7:36 am

Mr. Mossman looks over at Mr. Vermillion with fire in his eyes.

"I can't account for Mr. Vermillion." Mr. Mossman shrugs, "And I've yet to visit the Pantry."

"You can't honestly expect me to recall something as mundane as a Brick." Princess Blueblood laughs to herself, "My time is better spent monitoring other affairs..."

[cacums cannot disprove]

[cue CluedoKid to disprove]

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