The Murder Game: Day 006 (Clue Floor)
Clue #3
[This time when you see Arthur and Alfred they are once again unaware that the camera is on and the two are dressed in some very strange clothes. Victorian? Some of you would recognise them, other maybe not. For now, you only watch them because you know they have a clue. A clue that might get you out of this place.
Arthur's hand is feeling his own jaw while Alfred leans against the back of the chair, holding a cane in his right had, twirling it. "Try to dislocate my jaw again and I will end you."
The cane stopped and Alfred peered down at the Brit. "Big words for a short British guy."
"Really? Then it's simply amazing that you can string words together in coherent sentences at all!"
Snorting at the comment, Alfred looked away. "You say that every time. You're losin' your wit."
Arthur merely relaxed into his chair, playing with his jacket. "Because it never ceases to surprise me. It's mind boggling."
"I could punch you again. That'd be mind boggling." The cane tapped against the leather of Alfred's shoe and the blue eyes stared intently at the Brit.
Arthur merely smirked prettily over his shoulder, matching the coldness in Alfred's eyes. "Don't strain yourself now."
You watch for a moment, thinking that Alfred is going to use that cane to smash Arthur's smirk and you'll see the pearly whites strewn on the ground. But instead, Alfred merely flicks him. "I'm tired. Or else I'd be kicking your ass at... wittiness."
"The day that happens is the day I lose the will to live."
"We're getting close to that day~." And though Alfred's tone is joking, you can catch the flickering of his eyes and he glances at the camera. Arthur has noticed too. They both clear their throats and there is a shifting of their bodies into something more composed, more tense. Wary. As if they know they're being watched.
Alfred offers one of his million-watt smiles to the camera. "Should we get started then?"
"Must we...?" Arthur grumbled, "I'm not up for round three. You wore me out the first two times."
The American's fingers ruffled through Arthur's shaggy blond hair. "C'mon Artie, you're sturdier than that! Now..." Moving away before Arthur could grab his hand and break each of his fingers, Alfred picks up a small hat from a table, "Put on your hat."
"You put it on."
Taking his advice, Alfred shoved the hat onto the brit's head. Arthur flailed for a moment, grumbling and cursing before peering up at the American, noticing something on his face. "...Is that...? ...a growth under your nose...?"
Alfred quickly pets his newly aquired facial hair. "They told me to wear it."
The author snorts. "Oh come off of it, no they did not." He reaches up a hand but Alfred leans away, one hand still protective over the hair.
They did! If I'm gonna be the Watson to your Sherlock I need a mustache-" But before Alfred can gloat more, Arthur's hand closes the distance between them, seizes the golden caterpillar-esque hair on Alfred's lip.
A screech of pain comes form the American while Arthur, absolutely pleased with himself, flicks the hair away, relaxing back into his chair while Alfred rubs at his red upperlip, eyes half-tearing. "There." Arthur said, folding his hands in his lap, "You look disgustingly perfect like normal."
Even despite nearly having his lip torn off, Alfred absolute beams at the compliment. "Thanks Artie! I knew you thought I was hot."
"That wasn't a compliment."
This is perhaps one of the strangest things Alfred has ever heard. How is a compliment not a compliment. He blink owlishly at the Brit. "...How is that not a compliment?"
Take my word for it.
"You called me perfect, which I basically am, and you said it's not a compliment..." Alfred sighed, hands falling from his face, revealling a bright red and tender upper lip. "Those are some big mixed messages Artie."
"That was the point." Alfred doesn't offer and answer and Arthur continues, "...Weren't we supposed to do something?"
Sighing and resigning himself to Arthur's strange habits, Alfred nods. "Yeah... the clue." he rummages around the room for a minute, bringing back a plain card, reading off of it. "Infinity plus one." He stared at it, turning it around and searching all over it. "Huh... That's it. Kinda lame. Infinity plus one."
And with that, the camera feed cuts.]
The Clue Floor has two special doors this time.
One allows the wolves double kills.
It has been randomly selected and the clue given has no link to it.
A shot in the dark.
The other door will contain a clue.
Be wary little rabbits.
[you hear the familiar click of the unlocked doors and you all look up as the double doors at the top of the stairs swing open. As you all go upstairs and move along the hallway to room Number 5, you notice that the door is ajar carefully you look inside and are shocked to see a staircase leading up. Again, the windows are all white and reveal nothing of the outside. Slowly, you all begin to climb the stairs.
And you find yourself back in the hotel. By now you are exhausted from lack of sleep, stress and whatever else is plaguing you. But you keep moving. There's a clue somewhere here. And if you get it, you can stop the others from opening doors. So you keep moving. Across the decrepit and ruined lobby and up those stairs to a fourth floor.]
Barcodes will only work on third floor. There is no use going down to the second or third floors as none of the doors will open. And remember two doors hold prizes behind them but not all prizes are good.