#1
Lord Dracula
Vote for in bold who you suspect killed Black Cat.
#2
The Merchant
Emperor

He is the last person to see the victim alive and then claims to go to bed.
#3
Lancer
Ho ho ho! Clearly it is the work of that Goose! Everyone knows birds can't be trusted.
SIGNED, LANCER
#4
Hollywood Bowl
Goose.

Just 'cause it's the era of silent films doesn't excuse silent actors!
#5
Sakuya
Hollywood Bowl
#6
Emperor
I vote for Goose.

Twice.
#7
Maitre D'eath
Suicide.

If they simply woke up and placed their own head in the oven, that would explain the lack of drool from a sleeping person being dragged to the kitchen.
#8
Smasher
fuck it, Goose
#9
Lord Dracula
Truly a scattered lot, aren't you? I can think of no better reflection of those brains of yours. An admirable first effort, this was, but the murder was, in fact, not the Goose, but rather the greater bird of the lot, Emperor. All it took was for him to have a slumbering cat laid before him on a silver platter before giving it a savory roast. Almost as if he barely even tried at all. As for the Goose's identity, he was...

Ultimate Succubus:

And as the hospitable host I so humbly am, I have prepared some very special entertainment tonight. If you would turn your attention towards the vision in my enchanted pensieve, the time for an Execution has begun....

****

Waking from his spell of unconsciousness, Goose looks around in a frenzied panic, assuming the worst regarding his surroundings. But instead, he found himself in a bustling town, sitting outside a quaint cafe and, judging by the empty seat across from him, waiting for someone. Sure enough, he catches a feathered wave from the corner of his eye, and he turns to find walking towards him a majestic swan, royal in plumage and elegant in shape. Of course, how could he forget? He was on a date! Having a drink with her was just the start of this lovely evening as they went on a series of romantic frolickings, to taking a swim on the lake, to helping themselves to bread provided by the human locals, to honking and chasing at said locals just because they could.

At last, the moon revealed itself in all of its beauty, and what was one of the best nights of the Goose's young life was about to conclude. He looked into the swan's eyes as they sat on the edge of the pond, crooning his spindly neck towards him for a beaked kiss, when he started to feel an aching in his chest. It didn't feel like last-minute regret, no, more like....pain? He looked down, and he gasped with horror at the sight before him: the swan was pecking at his chest with violent intent! He tried to resist, using his feet to try and push the swan back, but this only intensified her efforts, and soon enough, he keeled over as the swan broke his skin and got into his insides. The Goose was dead, learning about the aggressiveness of the swan mating ritual firsthand. Tis the beauty of nature.


Expect the shifting of phases momentarily.

Users browsing this thread:

Forum Jump:

";