92nd ♫ | the quietness, profoundly consuming silence

[mytarget]

The Murder Game Meme



You know the script. You wake up in a place you've never seen before, with a whole bunch of complete strangers and there's a mysterious voice or a mascot or what have you ready to let you know how things are going to work around here.

The rules are simple: You're trapped here, with no hope of release or rescue. You've been provided with all the basic necessities you need to live comfortably, and all you have to do is settle down and live out the rest of your days here in peace. But if you can't do that -- if you're really so desperate to escape that you'll do anything -- then there's one teeny tiny thing you have to do first.

All you have to do is kill somebody.

But it's not quite that simple. Every death will be followed by a period of investigation, followed by a trial in which the survivors will attempt to solve the mystery and out the culprit. If the survivors guess correctly and out the culprit, the killer is executed and life goes on. But if the survivors guess wrong, then the culprit is free as a bird and everyone else is executed.

Even with the promise of freedom, can you really bring yourself to kill so many other people?

tl;dr: it's a murdergame meme. TIME TO HAVE A BIG OL' MURDERGAME BLAST.


Settings

1. High School A classic! Doesn't matter if you're too old or too young to be in high school -- you've been enrolled and the only way for you to graduate is to kill a fellow student. But hey, the faculties are nice!
2. Tropical Island Weren't you just hankering for a nice tropical vacation? No? Too bad! You're going to have a nice sunny vacation at the beach and if you don't like it, just kill someone and go home. Simple!
3. Prison It doesn't matter if you don't remember committing any crime; you've been tried and found guilty of something or other and now you can go ahead and rot away in jail. If you ever want to see the sunlight again, better put that criminal mind to good use and get rid of your inmates.
4. Mall A huge mall stuffed full of stores, places to eat and all the regular amenities like deadbolted doors and the threat of death. It's like Black Friday but even worse because you can't leave and all the rest of the shoppers might actually kill you for real this time.
5. City Holy shit, you've got the run of a whole city this time around! Maybe with all this room to keep out of each other's way, you'll be able to make sure no one starts killing people. But probably not.
6. Cruise Boat YOU'RE ON A BOAT, MOTHERFUCKER. The accommodation is all five star, even if there's no one around to act as wait staff. The only snag is that you still have this whole murder thing hanging over your head – but on the plus side, they have those little drinks with the umbrellas in, so...
7. Space Station THE FINAL FRONTIER... Maybe you're familiar with space stations like this or maybe all this future tech is fascinating to you. Not like it matters either way, of course, because you won't be getting out of here unless you lay down a murder on someone.
8. Wildcard! None of the above scratch your murder itch? Go wild and come up with your own setting!



Downtime

1. Excuse Me, Who Are You? You've just woken up in this weird place and you have no idea what's going on. But hey -- maybe this stranger's more informed than you. Or maybe you can put your heads together and investigate what's going on.
2. Social Link Go! Well, if you're going to be stuck in here for however long, you might as well get to know the people stuck in here with you. You've got plenty of rooms to explore together and there's enough to do to keep you occupied. How do you plan on passing time without killing each other?
3. Vending Machine Woes Somewhere in this place there's a mysterious vending machine that spits out all manner of bizarre items and occasionally dispenses items that belong to you and the other people trapped here. You've got a fat stack of tokens and nothing to lose.
4. The Corners of My Mind So as it turns out, your lovely hosts have been fiddling with your memories. Maybe you're just discovering this now or maybe you've had a particularly upsetting memory regain you're dealing with.
4. Wildcard! GO WILD AND BE FREE (or as free as you can be here, anyways)



PUTTING THE MURDER IN MURDER GAME

1. Motive Your mysterious overseer has decided there's not nearly enough murder going on and so they've ~helpfully~ given you a little push to do the deed. Maybe one of your loved ones is in danger, maybe they're offering more money than you could ever dream of or they're threatening to reveal your deepest darkest secrets. Whatever is it, would you kill for it?
2. Murder WELL APPARENTLY, YES. Are you a killer or are you being killed? Either way, someone's not walking away from this alive.
3. Body Discovery Rise and shine, murdergame! It's a brand new day and someone's dead. Better get investigating!
4. Trial You know how this one goes. Line up all your evidence and sniff out the killer -- or sit there and sweat and hope no one works out you're the murderer. Will they go down with a confession or put up a fight?
5. Afterparty You've survived another trial, but more of your friends have died. Even without the executions, trials are a stressful enough affair. It's time to destress and lick your wounds and support each other.
6. Mastermind It's the end. It's time to uncover all the mysteries behind this murder game -- and find out just who trapped you here. Are they really an unconnected party, or is the mastermind someone among you...?
7. Freedom Just as it says -- you're finally free, but at what cost? Have those you love been returned to you, or are you still reduced to just those who made it to the end? Are you on your own, or is anyone here to help you? And more importantly, how the hell are you going to get home?
8. Wildcard YOU KNOW WHAT TO DO


OPTIONAL FUN

Lots of murdergames have in-universe public profiles for other characters to get the skinny on yours. If you'd like to fill one out to post with your toplevel, peep at the code below!

<center><b>Name:</b> NAME | <b>TITLE (Super High School Level, Ultimate, Champion, etc)</b> <b>Age:</b> AGE | <b>Species:</b> SPECIES | <b>Occupation:</b> OCCUPATION <b>Likes:</b> LIKES <b>Dislikes:</b> DISLIKES <b>Traits:</b> A HANDFUL OF NOTABLE TRAITS <b>Trivia:</b> A PIECE OF TRIVIA</ul>

Comments

[draconite]

[ What little sleep that Bryn manages to get that night is unsettled and fractured by flame-licked dreams. She never would have considered herself someone with hostages to fate, but as the week has gone by and the reality of the threat they've been issued has sunk in, she finds herself thinking more and more of the friends she's left behind. Maybe they're wondering where she is. Maybe they're worried. Either way, they're surely not prepared for the insane woman who plans to go after them should nothing happen.

It's the first time in weeks that she's felt... tempted, really. Which is bizarre, considering that her brother is also here. She tells herself that it wouldn't really count if she was to put a blade to him here, away from home. It just wouldn't feel right. That's the only reason she's hesitated.

Now, though, she doesn't feel very hesitant. Her lack of sleep has her feeling frazzled and electrified when she creeps out of her room. She tells herself she's not looking for anyone in particular – that she's just patrolling, to ensure nothing happens. And if she has a knife, well, that's just for self defense. She tells herself all that over and over, but she never starts believing it.

And she doesn't even pretend she's surprised when she comes across Einar, looking wrung out and half-dead before Bryn has had a chance to even think about sinking a knife into him. She hangs back, wrestling with the question of whether or not to approach. Whether or not it's too late to run away. ]

... so even you have things you're willing to break for.

[antidraconian]

[He doesn't laugh. The flat, mirthless noise that escapes him isn't even acknowledgement. It's simply punctuation.]

Willing? No.

[A man need not be willing to be broken.

Einar lifts his head from his hand, then, and blinks when he sees Brynhilde there. No surprise registers. The space behind his eyes feels packed with grit, leaving little room for anything else but pre-supposed regret.

His knife sits loosely in his hand. It remains so, as if he's unaware he holds it. Finally, he sighs and lets his gaze fall to the level of Bryn's knees.]

You wouldn't consider going back to your room if I asked, would you? You might... simply forget about me.

[draconite]

[ Bryn lets out a laugh too – or maybe it's more like a snarl, a horrible noise from low in the back of her throat. ]

I'm afraid I've never been particularly good at doing what's asked of me.

[ It's a lie, of course – both of them know that. The only reason Bryn is stood before him as she is, the white rose taking the place of her eye, is because she has only ever wanted to do what was asked of her by the ones she cares for the most.

Maybe that's why she finds herself hesitating. ]

I imagine you might give me the same sort of answer, if I were to tell you to pretend none of this was happening and to leave? [ Before he can form a response, she scoffs. ] That's a foolish question, isn't it? You don't have a choice anymore.

[It was only ever going to lead to cw: suicidal ideation]

[antidraconian]

I... [The words trail off, as if he didn't actually know what he was going to say. He's so tired.] No.

[Einar rubs his dry, worn eyes with the pads of his fingers, then, letting the knife fall, the heels of both hands. A choice? He hasn't even a path forward, let alone options to choose from.]

I had hoped...

[And now he has no hope, none whatsoever. No hope his daughter might curl her tiny hand around his finger ever again. No hope of reconciling with the strange, lost sister before him. No hope of finding himself in Naja's sweet, familiar arms, safe at last. He missed Brynhilde's childhood, and his parents sold his own away as well. It makes a despairing sort of sense he should lose his chance at all the rest.

This is the end of all his hoping. All he can do now is refuse the worst of these unhappy endings. The knife still lies at his side. He can defend himself if he wishes. That's not what he wants to have to use it for.]

Brynhilde... will you tell them? Could you tell them... that I did all I could to return?

same cw as above

[draconite]

[ The little seed of unease that had been planted in her heart with the motive finally takes root and blooms into a feeling of alarm that makes her breath stop hard in her throat. She hears what he's saying, but she finds herself refusing to accept that he means what it sounds like he's saying. Or rather, she'd already known this would be where they'd end up this entire week. Maybe she'd just wanted to believe that somehow, things would turn out to be different. ]

You can't–

[ She stumbles all over her words, not even certain herself what it is she intends to say to him. This is what she wants, isn't it? For him to die. Whether it's at her hand or his own, that doesn't matter. In fact – for him to die here like this, leaving behind those who love him, isn't that the most perfect penance she can imagine?

Why does she feel so ill at the thought, then? ]

You're really going to give in now? After how far we've come?

[antidraconian]

[Later, if he lives to know a later, he might realize what now gives him the strength to raise his head.

'We.' How far we've come. With that word, Brynhilde pulls his eyes up to look at her, forces him to recognize what he's saying and to whom. He swallows thickly, too exhausted and dry to tear up. His eyes can only burn dimly.]

What should I do? Wait for someone else to die--to be slaughtered so I might live? Hope another innocent is killed, so I might once more hold my--

[Einar's voice breaks then, splintering like dry wood for a fire, and he stops talking. He stops talking, but not looking at Brynhilde, as if tiredly trying to memorize her face before he goes.

And then he does stop, weaving his fingers together and letting his eyes rest against the joined hands. His voice, when it returns, returns softer, less solid for its breaking.]

...My daughter... in my arms, and promise she'll be safe, though her father did nothing, nothing at all to make it so?

[draconite]

[ Her throat feels like it's burning. She hasn't managed to summon even a whisp of an ember since they'd woken up here but this horrible feeling twisting in her chest has managed to set some sort of heat aflame. She's never felt quite so powerlessly angry before – rage and frustration with nowhere to go but the scowl that twists her face and the snarl that curls into her voice when she snaps at him. ]

Don't you think the thing that matters is that you'd be there to hold her at all?!

[ This is cruel, to both of them. The longer she drags this out, the more agonizing it becomes. The more risk there is to all their loved ones. This is selfish. But Bryn isn't a very selfless girl. But she is stubborn beyond all reason. ]

Wouldn't she rather grow up with a father who had done anything to stay by her side and make her happy? Rather than being left with stories and having to imagine what that might have been like – don't you think they'd both rather have you?!

[ Of course he knows that. Bryn knows that everything in him must be screaming to return to them both. This isn't his choice, not really. It'd been taken out of their hands so long ago – but she can't just let this happen without a fight. ]

[antidraconian]

[What comes rushing down the usual channels Einar's guilt and pain take turns out, strangely, to be surprise. There's something cleaner about surprise. It knocks loose some of the familiar old despair and washes it temporarily away.

Yes, of course he knows. He knows what it is to be the child abandoned in a hard, friendless world--he knows what it is to bear a country's dreams on one's shoulders alone, without an ally close at hand. Still, there's no reason his wishes--or even his family's, or the whole kingdom's--should supersede anyone else's. That's what his parents taught him when they sent him so far from home; they taught him no bonds, no filial duty, no oath to people or country cannot be broken for something greater or more powerful.

Somehow, he didn't know Brynhilde would know that, too. That she would still know that, having forgotten their family. That, of course, she should know that better even than he. Better than anyone in the world.

He didn't know she'd bare that knowledge to him, of all people--the one who took the only family she knew away.

Einar stares forward, eyes wide beneath the long fringe of his hair, then blinks up at his lost, half-feral sister. After a moment, he repeats the question, quieter and even more genuine:]

What should I do?

[The tightness returns to his throat, to his chest, aching along old scars.]

If no one does anything, they'll be... But I can't let any of us here be killed, either. I will not.

[His voice is a ghost, but it's the ghost of firmness, still possessed of stubborn, princely pigheadedness. He sets his mouth in a line.]

You won't allow harm to come to your people, either, will you? What should we do?

['We.' It's 'we' again, now. That's how it always ought have been.]

[draconite]

[ She's– relieved. She doesn't know why and decides that in this moment, it doesn't matter. All that matters right now is walking him out of this foolish trap they've all been backed into. She wishes she had something, anything more concrete to give than her indignation – but she doesn't, and it shows in the way her shoulders sag and the frustration in her eventual response. ]

I– I don't know.

[ It feels like a shameful admission to make. But she shakes her head once more and pulls herself up to her full height, forcing herself to square her shoulders.

They've faced worse odds before. She's certain of that. ]

But– we know the person responsible for all this, don't we? And yes, she claims to be all-knowing and all powerful – but are you or aren't you the man who slayed the White Dragon of the Northern Mountains with nothing but his sword and a refusal to die?

Is this truly a trial more insurmountable than that?

[antidraconian]

I... don't know.

[The words come easier to him. He's married to a very clever woman. He's had to say them a lot.]

This is nothing so straightforward as a battle. Even--even against Wagner, at least I could see him and engage him face-to-face. This Mastermind, we don't even know her proper name.

[Einar sits up a bit more, rubbing the back of his neck where the long weight of his hair used to fall, so many years ago.]

Could we... force her into the open, somehow? [His words come faster.] Or we could trap her here, so she hasn't the opportunity to go home!

[To their home. To their loved ones.]

[draconite]

[ Bryn's quiet at first. She's not used to planning and scheming – her strengths come from bulldozing her way through problems head first until she has a whole new, different set of problems to worry about. But right now, her brain's running a mile a minute. This isn't something she can just brute force. If they're both going to walk away from here alive, they need some sort of real plan. ]

Whoever this girl is... she must need us here for something. A plan this grand with so many moving parts... I find it hard to believe her goal is some simple sadism. She needs us to hate and kill one another, for whatever reason.

The fact that she needs us... provides us some manner of leverage. But the question is – leverage over what?