"They're back up in the kitchen, but is it really wise to drink at a time like this...?" The Mr. Prog frowned as Sleuth announced her intentions to just drink straight from the bottle, but made no attempts to stop her...at first. But after spotting the bottle, it quickly dove at it. "No, not that bottle!"
...But it was too late. On the label of the bottle from shelf 2 was a picture of Dominerd, which rapidly grew to the size of an actual virus, and took a vicious chomp at the detective Navi. The Prog's complete miss resulted in landing face down on the floor. Hopefully he didn't get any splinters from that. "...Ow." He righted himself and checked on his guest, but odds were she was affected a bit by the sudden 'attack'. "Well, at least neither of us was hurt...I think. I guess on the bright side, we don't have to worry about the ghost of this room anymore..."
FearScope: 35/100
- Sleuth's searching ability may be slightly compromised
Mystic Mansion
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"Oh, don't be a Mr. Prude, Mr. Prog!" Sleuth scoffed, placing one fist to her hip and frowning. "Honestly, can't a lady have a little fun on the job? Let's enjoy a stiff mid-day drink-"
Before she had any chance to enjoy said drink, he took a dive for it. "Someone's thirsty-!" she started to laugh, but again, her joke was cut short as a ghost decided to taste her luxurious brown coat. "Gah!" she cried, throwing the bottle across the room and into the adjacent wall, presumably creating a bang of glass against wall, followed by a tinkling shower of bottling against wood. "I-I must say... ahem," Sleuth started, adjusting the neck of her coat in a rare moment of self-consciousness.
"What was that?" Jocelyn asked, flustering her further.
"I said! I must say, I... disapprove of your master's taste in beverages. The label turned me off before I got it into my mouth!" she joked, but it fell flat. "Fah! You ruined my timing, Jocelyn. A jest, unlike a wine, does not need to be kept and aged before it's enjoyed."
"I apologize..." the operator sighed. "I never realized that wine and jokes were so different."
"Well, now you do," Sleuth huffed, crossing her arms in a childish pout. "And you, Mr. Prog! I've got another question for you. Let's walk and talk," she murmured, picking back up her cane and heading back upstairs. Her cane tapped hard against the floor, as she thought deeply, pondering all of the events of the evening. "Let's head for the library next. I must say, even if my wits are not about me, my intuition is keen! Both of those last two ghosties were rooted out rather quickly, were they not?"
As she reached the top of the staircase, she became silent, placing one hand to her chin thoughtfully. She barely watched where she was going as she headed for the door to the library, then slowly turned the nob. Before entering, she craned her head slowly and regarded Mr. Prog with an interested, focused gaze. "You said 'not that bottle,' when you saw which bottle I was holding. Not 'there's a ghost!' You said... 'not that bottle,'" she repeated, tapping her finger against her cheek. "Shouldn't that have seemed rather a bit more foreign to you? Something so small and difficult to spot as the picture on a label... but you spotted it quite readily, before the ghost could even jump. Don't you think 'not that bottle'... is an interesting choice of words?" her smile grew wider, challenging even as she grasped at randomly danging threads. The threads were hints to a mystery that may not even exist. But in her mind, most mysteries were not plainly presented. Some were hidden and those who devised them had no intention of the truth ever being found out. But for each of the splendid mysteries she managed to get her hands on, another was simply another social faux pas or friend alienated by her constant suspicion. Such was the life of a detective. She couldn't remember the last person she'd implicitly trusted... She even suspected Jocelyn might be putting on a constant facade to make her drop her guard, building up to the grandest mystery of all. But that was, almost certainly, wishful thinking on her part.
"Hm hm hm... 'That bottle', hm? I wonder..." She proceeded on into the room, smiling, and without waiting for an answer.
Before she had any chance to enjoy said drink, he took a dive for it. "Someone's thirsty-!" she started to laugh, but again, her joke was cut short as a ghost decided to taste her luxurious brown coat. "Gah!" she cried, throwing the bottle across the room and into the adjacent wall, presumably creating a bang of glass against wall, followed by a tinkling shower of bottling against wood. "I-I must say... ahem," Sleuth started, adjusting the neck of her coat in a rare moment of self-consciousness.
"What was that?" Jocelyn asked, flustering her further.
"I said! I must say, I... disapprove of your master's taste in beverages. The label turned me off before I got it into my mouth!" she joked, but it fell flat. "Fah! You ruined my timing, Jocelyn. A jest, unlike a wine, does not need to be kept and aged before it's enjoyed."
"I apologize..." the operator sighed. "I never realized that wine and jokes were so different."
"Well, now you do," Sleuth huffed, crossing her arms in a childish pout. "And you, Mr. Prog! I've got another question for you. Let's walk and talk," she murmured, picking back up her cane and heading back upstairs. Her cane tapped hard against the floor, as she thought deeply, pondering all of the events of the evening. "Let's head for the library next. I must say, even if my wits are not about me, my intuition is keen! Both of those last two ghosties were rooted out rather quickly, were they not?"
As she reached the top of the staircase, she became silent, placing one hand to her chin thoughtfully. She barely watched where she was going as she headed for the door to the library, then slowly turned the nob. Before entering, she craned her head slowly and regarded Mr. Prog with an interested, focused gaze. "You said 'not that bottle,' when you saw which bottle I was holding. Not 'there's a ghost!' You said... 'not that bottle,'" she repeated, tapping her finger against her cheek. "Shouldn't that have seemed rather a bit more foreign to you? Something so small and difficult to spot as the picture on a label... but you spotted it quite readily, before the ghost could even jump. Don't you think 'not that bottle'... is an interesting choice of words?" her smile grew wider, challenging even as she grasped at randomly danging threads. The threads were hints to a mystery that may not even exist. But in her mind, most mysteries were not plainly presented. Some were hidden and those who devised them had no intention of the truth ever being found out. But for each of the splendid mysteries she managed to get her hands on, another was simply another social faux pas or friend alienated by her constant suspicion. Such was the life of a detective. She couldn't remember the last person she'd implicitly trusted... She even suspected Jocelyn might be putting on a constant facade to make her drop her guard, building up to the grandest mystery of all. But that was, almost certainly, wishful thinking on her part.
"Hm hm hm... 'That bottle', hm? I wonder..." She proceeded on into the room, smiling, and without waiting for an answer.
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The Mr. Prog remained silent, spending a fair amount of time looking at what used to be a bottle, all smashed up against the wall and floor. It'd be easy enough to replace, at least, what with it being the virtual world. "Just a moment, I need to clean this up before it stains." Something resembling a fan appeared above the program's head, which he immediately grabbed. The device immediately began to suck in the glass shards and spilt wine...one would think that would be dangerous, but the vacuum effect was so strong there was basically zero chance of a stray piece flying off into someone's face. It took about 20 seconds, but every last bit of the bottle (and, somehow, the wine) had been sucked in. "It'd be much more annoying to clean it after the wine dried. Fortunately, this VacuProg is strong enough to get liquid out of even solid surfaces if you're fast! Actually, one time, while I was stationed in SciLab Area, it was strong enough to even suck in clouds of...on second thought, that story's pretty boring if you weren't actually there to see it. Never mind." With that, the VacuProg vanished, and the Mr. Prog floated over to follow Sleuth up.
Sleuth's eventual question caused the program to tilt his head and look at her, and frown, albeit more in a 'what are you talking about' fashion than 'you're getting close to finding the truth'. "I pride myself on knowing everything about this house, what with it being my job and all. That includes knowing all the wines in the wine cellar. When you grabbed that bottle, I immediately noticed the picture of a Dominerd on it...and there's not a single brand in that entire cellar that has a picture of any virus on it. It jogged my memory, but I couldn't relay it quite in time for you to act on it, and for that, I'm very sorry. I wish I could remember some of these ghosts' locations more specifically...I suppose my memory isn't what it used to. Unfortunately, that's the price of being a 40 year old Mr. Prog without a single memory capacity upgrade."
And because apparently, the deities of the Net refused to go 5 minutes without Sleuth ending up in some sort of silly situation, her attempt to enter the library ended up with her walking right into a door. Ouch. "...Oh! That's right...the door connecting the kitchen and library is stuck, and I never got around to fixing it, with all the ghost business lately. I'm sorry, I guess I really should go see someone about my memory, if I forgot something as simple as that...but, the foyer entrance to it should be fine. You can go in that way."
Sleuth's eventual question caused the program to tilt his head and look at her, and frown, albeit more in a 'what are you talking about' fashion than 'you're getting close to finding the truth'. "I pride myself on knowing everything about this house, what with it being my job and all. That includes knowing all the wines in the wine cellar. When you grabbed that bottle, I immediately noticed the picture of a Dominerd on it...and there's not a single brand in that entire cellar that has a picture of any virus on it. It jogged my memory, but I couldn't relay it quite in time for you to act on it, and for that, I'm very sorry. I wish I could remember some of these ghosts' locations more specifically...I suppose my memory isn't what it used to. Unfortunately, that's the price of being a 40 year old Mr. Prog without a single memory capacity upgrade."
And because apparently, the deities of the Net refused to go 5 minutes without Sleuth ending up in some sort of silly situation, her attempt to enter the library ended up with her walking right into a door. Ouch. "...Oh! That's right...the door connecting the kitchen and library is stuck, and I never got around to fixing it, with all the ghost business lately. I'm sorry, I guess I really should go see someone about my memory, if I forgot something as simple as that...but, the foyer entrance to it should be fine. You can go in that way."
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"Now now, don't be down in the dumps, Mr. Prog. With age comes experience, and I'm sure some Miss Prog will find that very attractive in a-" Sleuth joked, laughing away her ineffective shot in the dark as to the possible sinister nature of the Mr. Prog's mystery. She became the butt of another joke, however, as she smacked nose-first into the library door. "Balderdash! I just don't understand you, Mr. Prog! You've memorized every wine in the wine cellar and yet you haven't fixed this library door! You're the strangest manservant I've ever encountered," she scoffed, just bitter at having made a fool out of herself (while not deliberately trying to act the part of a fool, which she sometimes did). "Well, I suggest boning up on the mystery genre, sirrah! It's a great way to train one's memory and a riveting thrill besides. Also a good way to pass the time, if you haven't a master to serve these days. And I'm assuming you don't usually escort ladies through the mansion like this. At least not at all hours of the day." She seemed like she was talking about mysteries to put herself back in a good mood, more than to actually encourage him to read them as a memory workout.
"Well, I'm still eager to see what sort of books your late master enjoyed. Knowing that detail will speak to his tastes, if not his character, far more accurately than tasting his unopened wine," she agreed. In a dash of brown, flapping cloth, the detective shot through the lobby and headed for the alternate library entrance. Slowly, with mocking caution, she turned the nob, then placed both hands upon her cane and gently nudged the door open using its giant lens end.
"Well, I'm still eager to see what sort of books your late master enjoyed. Knowing that detail will speak to his tastes, if not his character, far more accurately than tasting his unopened wine," she agreed. In a dash of brown, flapping cloth, the detective shot through the lobby and headed for the alternate library entrance. Slowly, with mocking caution, she turned the nob, then placed both hands upon her cane and gently nudged the door open using its giant lens end.
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As if mocking Sleuth, the door opened with virtually no resistance, allowing her to get a look inside the mansion's archives. Each of the walls, except for the one to her right, were covered in massive bookshelves, each of which was filled to the brim with books...except, for some reason, the one right next to her, which had a bunch of empty spots. There were also two other shelves, and a long table (with nothing on it) next to that. Each shelf was clearly labeled with a lettering system. Well, aside from that one with empty spots, which read 'Unsorted'.
"Not much to say here, it's just lots of books and a table. The unsorted shelf contains books yet to be catalogued, as well as used books that the previous master was too lazy to put back at the time. Really, the whole collection looks huge, but if you skim, you should be able to cover an entire shelf before long, and you probably won't miss anything. Probably, anyway. As for the virus...it was...shoot, I forgot the name. I remember that a big candle always follwed it around, though. Where...hmm, I remember thinking it was dyslexic for some reason. But that's about all I remember. I'll help if you want, but if you don't need me, I think I should get to work fixing that door, so history doesn't repeat itself, if you will. And I want to make sure I do it before I forget." With that, the Mr. Prog floated over to the other door, and awaited further instruction.
FearScope: 30/100
- Okay, but a little jittery
"Not much to say here, it's just lots of books and a table. The unsorted shelf contains books yet to be catalogued, as well as used books that the previous master was too lazy to put back at the time. Really, the whole collection looks huge, but if you skim, you should be able to cover an entire shelf before long, and you probably won't miss anything. Probably, anyway. As for the virus...it was...shoot, I forgot the name. I remember that a big candle always follwed it around, though. Where...hmm, I remember thinking it was dyslexic for some reason. But that's about all I remember. I'll help if you want, but if you don't need me, I think I should get to work fixing that door, so history doesn't repeat itself, if you will. And I want to make sure I do it before I forget." With that, the Mr. Prog floated over to the other door, and awaited further instruction.
FearScope: 30/100
- Okay, but a little jittery
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"Not a bad collection," Sleuth commented with a slow nod, as she entered into the room. The wide, open space and lack of activity in the room allowed her shoes to clap with eery loudness against the floor of the library. The late master's abode really did feel like a "ghost mansion" in that respect. "I would like to say I have a larger one, but that's not exactly fair, as my 'collection' is assembled by various donors and consists mostly of books that are sent in a timely manner to help me with my mysteries. I don't do a lot of recreational reading, since I spend so long reading for work... but then, when you love your work, perhaps the two are the same? Hm." While she did love reading, the idea of thumbing through a couple thousand dusty books, only for a ghost to jump out of the Z section and scare her, wasn't particularly exciting. "Ho ho! As if a few shelves of books offer any opportunity for me to miss anything. I'm a very thorough, yet expedient, detective."
As mentioned earlier, Sleuth was not particularly partial to the idea of thumbing through the entire alphabet of books available here in the library, especially because she'd be doing it alone: the Prog had gone back to work on the door and, having blessed it out thoroughly earlier, she'd seem hypocritical if she stopped him now. For that reason, besides her natural need to challenge herself, Sleuth decided it would be best to try to decipher the meaning of the hints that her companion had given her. "A dyslexic virus that is always followed by a candle... The latter brings a certain virus to mind, but I don't see what he'd find of particular interest in this room. Dyslexic, however... I wonder if Mr. Prog came to this conclusion about our virus because because it was trying to read and failing at it, or it wasn't trying to read at all, possibly because it was dyslexic? Mr. Prog's memory is full of these little gaps, as if to create a greater challenge for me," Sleuth chuckled.
"If it's dyslexic, it must have a difficult time reading. Perhaps it gave up and went to a different room?" Sleuth's operator offered.
"No, I believe that would break the rules of our little game, like a child heading indoors during a game of outdoor hide and seek. I certainly hope that will not be the case," Sleuth scoffed. The universe had a way of adhering to certain rules when it came to mysteries... "My guess is that Mr. Prog thought there was something it might be looking for, but instead, the virus was looking in a bookcase alphabetized for a similar-looking, but incorrect, letter. For instance, looking in the 'F' section for 'Eclair.'"
"The virus should look in the kitchen if it wants to find eclair..." Jocelyn murmured. "Although, I suppose it is possible that the late owner of the mansion could keep some in the bookshelves-"
Sleuth decided to stop listening to Jocelyn, worried the banter was going to ruin any train of thought she might be able to logically follow. "Well, the only think we know about this virus is that it is likely a 'Candevil.' But do viruses even understand the English language? Ah ha, but that's irrelevant! For Mr. Prog is the one who thought the virus might be dyslexic... his perception is what matters, not the virus' viewpoint. So, let's think of things that Mr. Prog may have thought our Candevil ghost would want to bone up on..."
"Candevil?" Jocelyn inquired, smiling gently.
"Yes, Candevil. We're looking for a Candevil," Sleuth responded, staring pensively at the floor.
"Candevil, then?"
"Yes... Candevil."
"So, Candevil?"
"CAN you tell me why the DEVIL you keep asking about the identity of our ghost, hm?!" Sleuth snapped, grinning in spite of herself at the stupidity of it all.
"I was implying that Mr. Prog may have thought our Candevil was looking for books about Candevils. I mean, all we really know about Candevils is that they're Candevils," Jocelyn explained, looking proud of herself.
Sleuth's grin lessened into less of a "pushed-to-the-point of insanity" grin and more of a "that's not a bad idea" grin. "True! It would be hard for Mr. Prog to assume much else, given that there really isn't anything else we know about Candevils. That said, let's... not say Candevil again for a while. I feel like the word is starting to lose its meaning. So, then," she continued, leaning on her cane and raising her hand into a cupped letter "C," "we must think of letters that mirror or resemble 'C'." Unfortunately, it has no direct mirror, so perhaps we'll need to consider similar looking letters, like 'G.'" With that, Sleuth went over to the front of the G-K books and began rifling through.
((Search G-K shelf))
As mentioned earlier, Sleuth was not particularly partial to the idea of thumbing through the entire alphabet of books available here in the library, especially because she'd be doing it alone: the Prog had gone back to work on the door and, having blessed it out thoroughly earlier, she'd seem hypocritical if she stopped him now. For that reason, besides her natural need to challenge herself, Sleuth decided it would be best to try to decipher the meaning of the hints that her companion had given her. "A dyslexic virus that is always followed by a candle... The latter brings a certain virus to mind, but I don't see what he'd find of particular interest in this room. Dyslexic, however... I wonder if Mr. Prog came to this conclusion about our virus because because it was trying to read and failing at it, or it wasn't trying to read at all, possibly because it was dyslexic? Mr. Prog's memory is full of these little gaps, as if to create a greater challenge for me," Sleuth chuckled.
"If it's dyslexic, it must have a difficult time reading. Perhaps it gave up and went to a different room?" Sleuth's operator offered.
"No, I believe that would break the rules of our little game, like a child heading indoors during a game of outdoor hide and seek. I certainly hope that will not be the case," Sleuth scoffed. The universe had a way of adhering to certain rules when it came to mysteries... "My guess is that Mr. Prog thought there was something it might be looking for, but instead, the virus was looking in a bookcase alphabetized for a similar-looking, but incorrect, letter. For instance, looking in the 'F' section for 'Eclair.'"
"The virus should look in the kitchen if it wants to find eclair..." Jocelyn murmured. "Although, I suppose it is possible that the late owner of the mansion could keep some in the bookshelves-"
Sleuth decided to stop listening to Jocelyn, worried the banter was going to ruin any train of thought she might be able to logically follow. "Well, the only think we know about this virus is that it is likely a 'Candevil.' But do viruses even understand the English language? Ah ha, but that's irrelevant! For Mr. Prog is the one who thought the virus might be dyslexic... his perception is what matters, not the virus' viewpoint. So, let's think of things that Mr. Prog may have thought our Candevil ghost would want to bone up on..."
"Candevil?" Jocelyn inquired, smiling gently.
"Yes, Candevil. We're looking for a Candevil," Sleuth responded, staring pensively at the floor.
"Candevil, then?"
"Yes... Candevil."
"So, Candevil?"
"CAN you tell me why the DEVIL you keep asking about the identity of our ghost, hm?!" Sleuth snapped, grinning in spite of herself at the stupidity of it all.
"I was implying that Mr. Prog may have thought our Candevil was looking for books about Candevils. I mean, all we really know about Candevils is that they're Candevils," Jocelyn explained, looking proud of herself.
Sleuth's grin lessened into less of a "pushed-to-the-point of insanity" grin and more of a "that's not a bad idea" grin. "True! It would be hard for Mr. Prog to assume much else, given that there really isn't anything else we know about Candevils. That said, let's... not say Candevil again for a while. I feel like the word is starting to lose its meaning. So, then," she continued, leaning on her cane and raising her hand into a cupped letter "C," "we must think of letters that mirror or resemble 'C'." Unfortunately, it has no direct mirror, so perhaps we'll need to consider similar looking letters, like 'G.'" With that, Sleuth went over to the front of the G-K books and began rifling through.
((Search G-K shelf))
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"So you won't need me for this? All right, I'll get working on the door." And so the Mr. Prog did just that. It was kinda hard to tell by looking just what he was doing, but the door was wavering in and out of existence, so he had to be doing something. It wasn't clear whether he was paying any attention to Sleuth...or it would've been, if he hadn't piped up at the end. "Oh, that's it. CanDevil. Yep, that's definitely its name, I remember now."
And with that, the detective began her search. GutsPunch for Dummies...How To Survive a Cybergeddon...Interesting Anthologies, Volumes 1 and 2...Jokes For Mr. Progs...KillerEye: A Virus Primer...well, he seemed to have a wide variety of books, if not leaning a bit towards things dealing with the cyberworld. This shelf, however, definitively contained nothing but books. No virus, no clues, no nada. It could be classified under N for nothing. On the bright side, browsing did seem to ease Sleuth's nerves a little.
FearScope: 27/100
- Mostly okay, but a little jittery
And with that, the detective began her search. GutsPunch for Dummies...How To Survive a Cybergeddon...Interesting Anthologies, Volumes 1 and 2...Jokes For Mr. Progs...KillerEye: A Virus Primer...well, he seemed to have a wide variety of books, if not leaning a bit towards things dealing with the cyberworld. This shelf, however, definitively contained nothing but books. No virus, no clues, no nada. It could be classified under N for nothing. On the bright side, browsing did seem to ease Sleuth's nerves a little.
FearScope: 27/100
- Mostly okay, but a little jittery
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"You should probably read up on this jokebook," Sleuth joked, although she continued past the book quickly. She couldn't imagine that many entertaining rib-ticklers involving a Mr. Prog, so she was willing to bet that neither could the author of the book... although, maybe she'd be surprised. She made a mental note to check that book out later. Really, now she was just wondering why the previous owner had a jokebook in his giant, otherwise impressive and intellectual looking library to begin with. "All this has really done is piqued my curiosity to know the nature and behavior of this place's late master. On that note, I think I know how to get a good insight towards his preferences... Let's see..."
Sleuth turned on her heels and head towards the unsorted and new shelf. Without a doubt, that shelf would shed the most light on the lifestyle of the one behind all of today's mysteries: the combination of his newly purchased books, along with those he'd selected to read himself, would certainly provide a window in on his tastes and interests. Even if it wasn't related to the Candevil at all, she felt that it was too great an opportunity to resist, and head next for this shelf.
((Search unsorted shelf))
Sleuth turned on her heels and head towards the unsorted and new shelf. Without a doubt, that shelf would shed the most light on the lifestyle of the one behind all of today's mysteries: the combination of his newly purchased books, along with those he'd selected to read himself, would certainly provide a window in on his tastes and interests. Even if it wasn't related to the Candevil at all, she felt that it was too great an opportunity to resist, and head next for this shelf.
((Search unsorted shelf))
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As the Mr. Prog continued working on the door, Sleuth headed over to the unsorted shelves, and started digging around. Let's see...Wood Chips and You...The Big Book of BugFrags...Night of the Living Progs 2: Electric Boo-galoo...How To Build Your Own Firewall...The Complete and Unabridged History of Sharo...Tres Bien: A Beginner's Guide to Netopian...a book of 300 zenny...wait, that last one wasn't a book, it was just 300 zenny. Score.
Sleuth GET: 300z
There wasn't much a theme to the books, it seemed. And there didn't seem to be anything particularly eye catching among them. Guess it was time to look somewhere else.
"Find anything yet? It might be best if you haven't, this might take a little while longer..." The door was still fading in and out, as the Mr. Prog continued working on it in ways that couldn't be comprehended by simply watching.
FearScope: 24/100
- Getting over the previous shocks
Sleuth GET: 300
There wasn't much a theme to the books, it seemed. And there didn't seem to be anything particularly eye catching among them. Guess it was time to look somewhere else.
"Find anything yet? It might be best if you haven't, this might take a little while longer..." The door was still fading in and out, as the Mr. Prog continued working on it in ways that couldn't be comprehended by simply watching.
FearScope: 24/100
- Getting over the previous shocks
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Sleuth was beginning to think that the former owner had just had a short attention span; every book seemed to be either junk, like a horror story or a joke book, or to be something like reference or self-improvement. Her image of the man was souring a bit, seeing that he apparently wasn't doing any serious reading, either in his early or last days. "It's a waste of a perfectly good library," she thought to herself, frowning deeply. Just what sort of man was this, who exercised such taste in food and wine, but then lined every shelf of his library with children's fare? It would be different if he'd demonstrated some fondness of children or something... but she really didn't want to imagine that he'd built such a collection for himself.
Then again, maybe the late master was a child? It was a depressing thought, but it could even explain some of this treasure hunt that he'd thought up.
She pocketed the money and refocused her mind on the hints she'd received: the culprit was a Candevil, he appeared dyslexic, and that was about all she knew. "'O' is another letter frequently mistaken for 'C' by dyslexics. We'll proceed to that shelf, then," she affirmed, heading for the L-O section directly behind her. "Ah, Mr. Prog, I wonder which of us has the better job here from the standpoint of intellectual stimulation... I'm beginning to feel as though I'd rather learn to fix that door than continue trying to root out these ghosts amongst your master's... interesting literature," she groaned, throwing a tantrum. It was one of her greatest weaknesses: a crippling malaise that overtook her when she ran out of observations to amuse herself.
"I just thought of something! If there's another slip of paper with a word hidden in this room, how will you even find it?" Jocelyn inquired. Apparently, her own task of apprehending the grease-flinger was leaving her a lot of leisure time, as she no longer appeared to even be rolling, yet still wasn't mobilizing against any kind of criminal.
"How so?" the detective asked disinterestedly, flipping through a book that she'd missed the title of. She figured it was probably something like "Learn to Love Yourself 6 Easy Techniques: Numerology and Octopus Viruses," based on the master's demonstrated reading preferences.
"Well, this library is full of paper with words written upon it, isn't it? How will you know a clue if you find it?" her operator posed the question, placing her hands on her hips and leaning her tremendous bosom towards the monitor. "Or... Or perhaps the entire library is clues! Wouldn't you be happy, to discover so many in one place?" she cheered, clapping her silk-gloved hands together daintily.
Sleuth's frown worsened, stretching her face into an unbecoming scowl as she continued to worm through the books.
((Search L-O))
Then again, maybe the late master was a child? It was a depressing thought, but it could even explain some of this treasure hunt that he'd thought up.
She pocketed the money and refocused her mind on the hints she'd received: the culprit was a Candevil, he appeared dyslexic, and that was about all she knew. "'O' is another letter frequently mistaken for 'C' by dyslexics. We'll proceed to that shelf, then," she affirmed, heading for the L-O section directly behind her. "Ah, Mr. Prog, I wonder which of us has the better job here from the standpoint of intellectual stimulation... I'm beginning to feel as though I'd rather learn to fix that door than continue trying to root out these ghosts amongst your master's... interesting literature," she groaned, throwing a tantrum. It was one of her greatest weaknesses: a crippling malaise that overtook her when she ran out of observations to amuse herself.
"I just thought of something! If there's another slip of paper with a word hidden in this room, how will you even find it?" Jocelyn inquired. Apparently, her own task of apprehending the grease-flinger was leaving her a lot of leisure time, as she no longer appeared to even be rolling, yet still wasn't mobilizing against any kind of criminal.
"How so?" the detective asked disinterestedly, flipping through a book that she'd missed the title of. She figured it was probably something like "Learn to Love Yourself 6 Easy Techniques: Numerology and Octopus Viruses," based on the master's demonstrated reading preferences.
"Well, this library is full of paper with words written upon it, isn't it? How will you know a clue if you find it?" her operator posed the question, placing her hands on her hips and leaning her tremendous bosom towards the monitor. "Or... Or perhaps the entire library is clues! Wouldn't you be happy, to discover so many in one place?" she cheered, clapping her silk-gloved hands together daintily.
Sleuth's frown worsened, stretching her face into an unbecoming scowl as she continued to worm through the books.
((Search L-O))
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Sleuth's remarks actually managed to make the Mr. Prog stop and look over at her. "Oh, I think it's you. You'd be amazed at how thorough some of those books can be. For instance, there was this one about Wood chips I tried to read, and my head was spinning from how in-depth it was. And the former master wasn't even a Wood Navi, but he read last word. Of course, he also read some that were less...intellectually stimulating, to put it nicely. But if he found it interesting, he wanted to read about it. It may not look like it at parts, but without a doubt, this room was where he spent the most time, and if he had to pick one room to save and let all the others burn, he'd choose this one without a second thought." He watched the Navi look through the books for a moment, then suddenly jumped up in shock. "Oh, I just remembered exactly where the virus is! It's-"
Meanwhile, let's see what books were here...'Looking to the Moon and Beyond: Mankind's Space Obsession', 'The Mega Megalian', 'Netfrican Gourmet Recipes', 'Livednac a fo yrots a'...wait, what?
BAM!
The book suddenly transformed, and a CanDevil floated right through the detective with a rather menacing laugh, before fading. Well, that was different. The Mr. Prog flinched, upset that he was too late in remembering. "Yeah, I'd just remembered...I saw it around the L section last time. And you know how the common conception of dyslexic people is that they read stuff backwards and such? Well, CanDevil ends in an L, so I made the connection and thought as much..." After softly shaking his head, he turned back around and presumably started work on the door again. "...I'm still not done with this, by the way, so feel free to keep looking if you want."
The good news was, now Sleuth didn't have to worry about that virus ghost. The bad news was, with the transformation and everything, she was probably pretty spooked, so she might miss something she might've otherwise had no trouble finding...
FearScope: 54/100
- Pretty scared, some searching ability is compromised
Meanwhile, let's see what books were here...'Looking to the Moon and Beyond: Mankind's Space Obsession', 'The Mega Megalian', 'Netfrican Gourmet Recipes', 'Livednac a fo yrots a'...wait, what?
BAM!
The book suddenly transformed, and a CanDevil floated right through the detective with a rather menacing laugh, before fading. Well, that was different. The Mr. Prog flinched, upset that he was too late in remembering. "Yeah, I'd just remembered...I saw it around the L section last time. And you know how the common conception of dyslexic people is that they read stuff backwards and such? Well, CanDevil ends in an L, so I made the connection and thought as much..." After softly shaking his head, he turned back around and presumably started work on the door again. "...I'm still not done with this, by the way, so feel free to keep looking if you want."
The good news was, now Sleuth didn't have to worry about that virus ghost. The bad news was, with the transformation and everything, she was probably pretty spooked, so she might miss something she might've otherwise had no trouble finding...
FearScope: 54/100
- Pretty scared, some searching ability is compromised
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Sleuth's interest was rekindled when she learned that the master was a frequent, enthusiastic reader, and furthermore, that he actually took the time to read all of these books, which seemed to be at least half reference material. "I suppose I can appreciate his desire for edification, even if I find the subjects somewhat uninspiring," she replied, turning her face back to the shelf just in time to get a face full (literally, seeing as the virus decided to wisp through her face) of Candevil. "Cripes! That bedeviled Candevil!l she exclaimed, swatting the air around her face with both gloves and dropping her cane to the floor. It produced a silence shattering series of claps against the surface. "Mr. Prog, your sense of timing is either very unfortunate or very sadistic!"
"But you did find another ghost, thanks to his hint," Jocelyn reminded her
"True. Although, I was so focused on backwards letters that I neglected to consider backwards words..." she murmured, while squatting to retrieve her cane. "I would continue on, but I would hate to miss the fascinating conclusion of your current project," Sleuth joked, although she really would just hate to feel any lonelier than she currently did. She turned her back to the shelf and Mr. Prog, then began to idly search through the P-S section. "If only I could find some book amidst this massive collection that would shed some light on your master's impenetrable puzzle..."
(Search P-S))
"But you did find another ghost, thanks to his hint," Jocelyn reminded her
"True. Although, I was so focused on backwards letters that I neglected to consider backwards words..." she murmured, while squatting to retrieve her cane. "I would continue on, but I would hate to miss the fascinating conclusion of your current project," Sleuth joked, although she really would just hate to feel any lonelier than she currently did. She turned her back to the shelf and Mr. Prog, then began to idly search through the P-S section. "If only I could find some book amidst this massive collection that would shed some light on your master's impenetrable puzzle..."
(Search P-S))
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"Sorry...my mind's solid Ice terrain by now, I guess." Though he resumed his task right away, the Mr. Prog had a frown instead of the traditional, factory issued Mr. Prog smile. Apparently he did feel pretty bad about his repeated instances of being just too slow to help.
Let's see, what was in this section...'The Pomegranites of Fury, Queen Leary, Red Alert: The Seventh Installment of the Extreme Agnamem Series, The Secrets of Recovery Chips'...wait, what just fell out of that last one? ...Huh, looked like it came with a free sample chip.
Sleuth GET: Recover10 BattleChip data
Nothing related to puzzles, though. At least, not in this section.
"There, that should do it." Sleuth's partner in missioning floated a step back, then opened and closed the door several times. "All right, it's fixed. Of course, if you're still looking here, you're welcome to continue doing so."
FearScope: 41/100
- A little bit over the CanDevil scale, search capacity is almost 100% again
Let's see, what was in this section...'The Pomegranites of Fury, Queen Leary, Red Alert: The Seventh Installment of the Extreme Agnamem Series, The Secrets of Recovery Chips'...wait, what just fell out of that last one? ...Huh, looked like it came with a free sample chip.
Sleuth GET: Recover10 BattleChip data
Nothing related to puzzles, though. At least, not in this section.
"There, that should do it." Sleuth's partner in missioning floated a step back, then opened and closed the door several times. "All right, it's fixed. Of course, if you're still looking here, you're welcome to continue doing so."
FearScope: 41/100
- A little bit over the CanDevil scale, search capacity is almost 100% again
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"Well, perhaps mine is freezing over as well and in need of a good thaw," Sleuth responded, feeling a little bad at having disrespected her only companion in the ghost house (assuming Mata wasn't going to suddenly show up any time soon). "You know how they say you can huddle together with another body, to achieve greater, shared body temperatures? Perhaps we need only to continue putting our heads together in order to hear them back up!" she proposed."Sometimes, she figured, "puns have to suffice where intellect cannot." Of course, puns weren't really helping anyone. "Or a hug it's not out of the question. If you're so inclined," she added idly, then whistled as she found another chip. She barely deflated, even after seeing that she's found the chip she'd recovered was probably worth about the same as the plastic it would become printed upon. "Perhaps your master was using these chips as bookmarks? There's an interesting thought..."
The Prog offered to allow her to continue browsing books to her heart's content, but she felt that her heart was plenty content with this room as it was. "I believe there is one more room on the first floor, correct? Let's take this opportunity to finish our scoring of the first floor," she suggested, heading merrily there. Even if the ghosts were bad for her heart health, she was the kind to appreciate bad news over no news, so she simply attributed the elevated heart rate to the boiling of her own detective's blood. She knew that the final clues to the puzzle came in the final stretches of any mystery, so her adventure would only become more revelatory and potentially perilous as she continued.
((Back to foyer, head for side room))
The Prog offered to allow her to continue browsing books to her heart's content, but she felt that her heart was plenty content with this room as it was. "I believe there is one more room on the first floor, correct? Let's take this opportunity to finish our scoring of the first floor," she suggested, heading merrily there. Even if the ghosts were bad for her heart health, she was the kind to appreciate bad news over no news, so she simply attributed the elevated heart rate to the boiling of her own detective's blood. She knew that the final clues to the puzzle came in the final stretches of any mystery, so her adventure would only become more revelatory and potentially perilous as she continued.
((Back to foyer, head for side room))
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"Chips as bookmarks? ...I guess I can't put that past him. He'd probably even make sure they were thematic with the book." Mr. Prog shrugged (somehow), then made his way to the door. "Yep, the side room hasn't been investigated. Well, if you're all set, let's not delay."
One non-delayed walk later, the door to the side room opened without incident. And, well...to each side were four suits of armor, redesigned to be more in line with a NormalNavi's body type. And that was basically it. Also of note was a rather large window. Most of the other areas had had windows of some sort, but it was a lot more noticable in such a small room as this.
"All right, let me think...the virus here was Swordy. I remember because it was so fitting. And I know it came at me from my left, right after I opened the door to enter. ...Hey, that almost sounded useful. Maybe my brain just used an ElementalIce!" The smile typical of Mr. Progs returned to the guide's face, happy that he managed to be even somewhat direct in his hint. "I'm more than happy to join in the search, of course. Just direct me, and I'll do a thorough investigation." Now, where to start. So many options, so many of them the exact same thing at a glance...
FearScope: 36/100
- Mostly over the CanDevil scare, search capacity is at least 99% by now
One non-delayed walk later, the door to the side room opened without incident. And, well...to each side were four suits of armor, redesigned to be more in line with a NormalNavi's body type. And that was basically it. Also of note was a rather large window. Most of the other areas had had windows of some sort, but it was a lot more noticable in such a small room as this.
"All right, let me think...the virus here was Swordy. I remember because it was so fitting. And I know it came at me from my left, right after I opened the door to enter. ...Hey, that almost sounded useful. Maybe my brain just used an ElementalIce!" The smile typical of Mr. Progs returned to the guide's face, happy that he managed to be even somewhat direct in his hint. "I'm more than happy to join in the search, of course. Just direct me, and I'll do a thorough investigation." Now, where to start. So many options, so many of them the exact same thing at a glance...
FearScope: 36/100
- Mostly over the CanDevil scare, search capacity is at least 99% by now
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"From the left, right after you entered the door? That certainly does sound useful. However, if I know my mysteries... and I like to think that I do... I have a hunch things won't be as simple as they appear," Sleuth chuckled, glancing between the armors that lined the room. She also had a suspicion that her unusual bust size would prevent her from fitting comfortably into any of these chest pieces; otherwise, she might try one on, just to check that off her bucket list. Very few collectors of armor were ever likely to let a stranger to try on their pieces, but she doubted the master would refuse in his current state. Oh well, that one would just have to wait. "Swordies have a habit of teleporting around. It's possible that the Swordy was actually further towards the back of the room or on the other side, but teleported to the closest location as soon as you opened the door. That said, as much as I hate to admit it, the most obvious answer is sometimes the correct one. We ought to start with the front armors. Because I'm a sport, I'll let you have the right and I will check the left." Her heart beat hadn't quite slowed down yet, but she'd be damned if she was going to let Mr. Prog do the dirtiest of her dirty work. The last thing she wanted to write in her memoirs regarding this case was that she willingly threw Mr. Prog into a trap because she was afraid.
"Let's see... Just where in the armor might he be hiding? The helmet? Or perhaps the codpiece~" she chuckled, beginning to open the helmet and then moving one palm down to the crotch of the armor, in a way that was dirty and didn't really fit the current audience in any way, as the Mr. Prog was unlikely to be aroused and Mata was not around to be embarrassed. "Do I feel something moving in there~?"
"I would think you would check an open point, like the helmet, to start with," Jocelyn interjected, not seeming affected by Sleuth's attempt to fetishize the inanimate armor either.
"Phooey. If there's a really interesting ghost in there, I'll bet it's hiding right about there, waiting to spring out. Wouldn't that be comical?" Sleuth laughed, squatting down to inspect the lower body of the armor. Of course, if it actually popped out right now, the joke would be on her.
((Inspect armor to immediate left))
"Let's see... Just where in the armor might he be hiding? The helmet? Or perhaps the codpiece~" she chuckled, beginning to open the helmet and then moving one palm down to the crotch of the armor, in a way that was dirty and didn't really fit the current audience in any way, as the Mr. Prog was unlikely to be aroused and Mata was not around to be embarrassed. "Do I feel something moving in there~?"
"I would think you would check an open point, like the helmet, to start with," Jocelyn interjected, not seeming affected by Sleuth's attempt to fetishize the inanimate armor either.
"Phooey. If there's a really interesting ghost in there, I'll bet it's hiding right about there, waiting to spring out. Wouldn't that be comical?" Sleuth laughed, squatting down to inspect the lower body of the armor. Of course, if it actually popped out right now, the joke would be on her.
((Inspect armor to immediate left))
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Sure enough, once Sleuth really started grabbing the suit of armor's junk, something came out...but it wasn't a ghost, fortunately. It was, however, something handy, so into the collection pile it went.
Sleuth GET: MiniEnergy SubChip
"...I'm not even going to pretend to understand why he hid that there, of all places." Yes, apparently, the Mr. Prog drew the line at hiding things in an inanimate object's junk. "Let's see what's inside this one...ahh!" Something came out of that armor as well, but fortunately, it also wasn't intended to scare. Considering it was a scrap of paper, it was highly likely that it was, in fact, the clue! "...Oh, it's just the clue. Silly me." Now, what did it say, everyone was probably wondering. Well...just one word: 'Very'
"Well, that's definitely his handwriting...but I don't have the faintest idea what that could even mean."
FearScope: 25/100
- Finding non-terrifying things relieves stress!
Sleuth GET: MiniEnergy SubChip
"...I'm not even going to pretend to understand why he hid that there, of all places." Yes, apparently, the Mr. Prog drew the line at hiding things in an inanimate object's junk. "Let's see what's inside this one...ahh!" Something came out of that armor as well, but fortunately, it also wasn't intended to scare. Considering it was a scrap of paper, it was highly likely that it was, in fact, the clue! "...Oh, it's just the clue. Silly me." Now, what did it say, everyone was probably wondering. Well...just one word: 'Very'
"Well, that's definitely his handwriting...but I don't have the faintest idea what that could even mean."
FearScope: 25/100
- Finding non-terrifying things relieves stress!
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"Ho ho! I find that this technique usually gets a reaction! Thank you kindly, my good man," Sleuth chuckled, plucking the mini-energy subchip from its hiding place. "A shame though, I also tend to get it a bit bigger than this. Oh well," she continued, holding the subchip data in one gloved hand while using the magnifying glass end of her cane with her other, to emphasize her point about the smallness of the data she'd found. "Too bad! Some men are just mini~"
"I don't get it. Are you saying this isn't the first time you've found a subchip hidden in a man's trousers?" Jocelyn inquired. "You're not trying to trick me again, are you, Sleuth?"
"My dear girl, I highly advise against checking any gentleman's trousers for subchips unless you have his express permission first. Unless that fellow is an inanimate suit of armor, in which case, be my guest," Sleuth replied, discretely dodging the question. "At any rate, Sirrah, I would venture that the old boy was just aware that only an entertaining fellow such as myself would so thoroughly inspect his armor collection. That's probably why he hid the subchip there, as a gift," she chuckled, giving herself a verbal pat on the back. She finally shut up about her find once she heard that the Mr. Prog had made a discovery which was far more important to her than her own had been. "A clue! Let me see, my good chum!"
It wasn't that she didn't trust the Mr. Prog, but when it came to such matters as a puzzle or riddle, she needed to verify all of the evidence for herself. For that reason, she pushed up next to her companion and examined the paper with her oversized magnifying glass. "Ah ha! 'Very.' So we've now assembled... 'very,' 'deer,' 'beam,' and 'teeth.' I say, I hope we haven't missed some prepositions somewhere," she murmured, thinking hard. "This clue defies the pattern thus far... it is two syllables instead of one, and furthermore, it's not a noun like the others. On the other hand, it does still have an 'ee' sound, at the very end. Perhaps we'll get to the bottom of this mystery yet!" she elaborated, raising one finger into the air energetically. "Well done, good fellow. We should move on to the next room now-"
"Er, what about the ghost?" Jocelyn reminded her navi, as Sleuth's hand went for the door.
The detective slapped her forehead with her palm and laughed. "Whoops! I was so excited about the puzzle that I forgot about our chief purpose. Let's simply move to the next in the row, shall we, Mr. Prog?" she suggested, moving on to the next armor. "Maybe I'll go two for two? Yoo-hoo, is anybody home?" Sleuth questioned, rapping one fist against the armor's chestplate and sticking the side of her head against the surface.
((Check next armor to the left))
"I don't get it. Are you saying this isn't the first time you've found a subchip hidden in a man's trousers?" Jocelyn inquired. "You're not trying to trick me again, are you, Sleuth?"
"My dear girl, I highly advise against checking any gentleman's trousers for subchips unless you have his express permission first. Unless that fellow is an inanimate suit of armor, in which case, be my guest," Sleuth replied, discretely dodging the question. "At any rate, Sirrah, I would venture that the old boy was just aware that only an entertaining fellow such as myself would so thoroughly inspect his armor collection. That's probably why he hid the subchip there, as a gift," she chuckled, giving herself a verbal pat on the back. She finally shut up about her find once she heard that the Mr. Prog had made a discovery which was far more important to her than her own had been. "A clue! Let me see, my good chum!"
It wasn't that she didn't trust the Mr. Prog, but when it came to such matters as a puzzle or riddle, she needed to verify all of the evidence for herself. For that reason, she pushed up next to her companion and examined the paper with her oversized magnifying glass. "Ah ha! 'Very.' So we've now assembled... 'very,' 'deer,' 'beam,' and 'teeth.' I say, I hope we haven't missed some prepositions somewhere," she murmured, thinking hard. "This clue defies the pattern thus far... it is two syllables instead of one, and furthermore, it's not a noun like the others. On the other hand, it does still have an 'ee' sound, at the very end. Perhaps we'll get to the bottom of this mystery yet!" she elaborated, raising one finger into the air energetically. "Well done, good fellow. We should move on to the next room now-"
"Er, what about the ghost?" Jocelyn reminded her navi, as Sleuth's hand went for the door.
The detective slapped her forehead with her palm and laughed. "Whoops! I was so excited about the puzzle that I forgot about our chief purpose. Let's simply move to the next in the row, shall we, Mr. Prog?" she suggested, moving on to the next armor. "Maybe I'll go two for two? Yoo-hoo, is anybody home?" Sleuth questioned, rapping one fist against the armor's chestplate and sticking the side of her head against the surface.
((Check next armor to the left))
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"Don't forget the other one...what was it? 'U2U'? That kinda broke your patterns, too." The Mr. Prog floated over to the next suit, but elected not to search just yet, instead focusing on one of Sleuth's comments. "I'm not entirely sure how letting the ghosts scare us is getting them to leave, or even so much as behave...as is, they'll just wait until you're gone, then find new places to hide and scare me. Not that it's not entirely unfitting in a place like this, but it wears on you after a bit..."
And so the pair got to searching. Sleuth proceeded to strike out, but the Prog noticed something behind his armor's left arm..."Oh, look, I found something. Seems like BattleChip data, so you're welcome to it." And that ended the story of how Sleuth went through life without a single Mettaur based chip.
Sleuth GET: Guard1 BattleChip data
"So, do you really want to keep looking for that ghost? Because if you do, I won't stop you. I'm just not sure how it helps anything, especially in regards to our blood pressure..." The green program looked at the detective Navi with the usual blank smile of his kind, awaiting the next order...
FearScope: 23/100
- The scare is there, but total fear isn't here
And so the pair got to searching. Sleuth proceeded to strike out, but the Prog noticed something behind his armor's left arm..."Oh, look, I found something. Seems like BattleChip data, so you're welcome to it." And that ended the story of how Sleuth went through life without a single Mettaur based chip.
Sleuth GET: Guard1 BattleChip data
"So, do you really want to keep looking for that ghost? Because if you do, I won't stop you. I'm just not sure how it helps anything, especially in regards to our blood pressure..." The green program looked at the detective Navi with the usual blank smile of his kind, awaiting the next order...
FearScope: 23/100
- The scare is there, but total fear isn't here
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Sleuth turned on her heels, looking dumbstruck. "U2U! That blasted clue is such the bastard that I had managed to drive it wholly from my mind! I'm beginning to feel as though I should be taking notes," she mumbled, perhaps embarrassed that she was doing a poor job of keeping up with critical mission details. Her eyebrows screwed up as she tried listened further to a description of the ghost behaviors. She said nothing, but it was clear that a thought was nagging at her brain.
"We'll have a nice little folder assembled here before long," Jocelyn pointed out as she received the guard chip data.
"Indeed, it will give me peace of mind to have more than the meager scraps that my previous employer left me," the detective agreed. "Such an act should really be expected as a courtesy to a navi leaving one's employ, wouldn't you say? If some ruffian had engaged me before I managed to build my repertoire back up, I shudder to imagine what would have happened!" She glossed over the fact that she'd tried to rile up a fight club full of brawling, shady men earlier that day.
As Mr. Prog further engaged her, Sleuth returned a blank smile of her own. "Pardon?" she inquired again, as if she'd failed to hear.
"He said that the ghosts are scary and will just go back where they were earlier once you leave the mansion," Jocelyn regurgitated. Paying attention was one thing she had some skill at, anyway.
The detective looked back at Mr. Prog with the same look of confusion she had adopted earlier. "Little fellow, I wonder if you are trying to drive me mad?" she asked, sounding surprisingly earnest. "What are we even doing this for, if not to drive the ghosts out of the mansion? Did you not specifically employ me for that purpose? What is our goal here...? I mean... I want to solve your master's riddle, but you didn't remember that until after we started," she questioned, now kneeling to get face to face with Mr. Prog. She stared intensely into his face with a bewildered expression that showed she wasn't sure whether to be suspicious, pleased, relieved, or even upset. "Have I really become so forgetful? Is age catching up with me, contributing senility atop of welcome experience? Just what ARE we doing here, if not driving out ghosts?"
"Fixing doors?" Jocelyn offered. "Eating turkey?"
The commentary from her operator didn't seem useful, so Sleuth tuned it out. "I'm not cross. But I am terribly, terribly confused. Can you help an old lady with her recollection, Sirrah?" She wasn't even able to think about investigating the armors any further as she spoke, so taken was her attention by the matter of her purpose in coming to the mansion.
"We'll have a nice little folder assembled here before long," Jocelyn pointed out as she received the guard chip data.
"Indeed, it will give me peace of mind to have more than the meager scraps that my previous employer left me," the detective agreed. "Such an act should really be expected as a courtesy to a navi leaving one's employ, wouldn't you say? If some ruffian had engaged me before I managed to build my repertoire back up, I shudder to imagine what would have happened!" She glossed over the fact that she'd tried to rile up a fight club full of brawling, shady men earlier that day.
As Mr. Prog further engaged her, Sleuth returned a blank smile of her own. "Pardon?" she inquired again, as if she'd failed to hear.
"He said that the ghosts are scary and will just go back where they were earlier once you leave the mansion," Jocelyn regurgitated. Paying attention was one thing she had some skill at, anyway.
The detective looked back at Mr. Prog with the same look of confusion she had adopted earlier. "Little fellow, I wonder if you are trying to drive me mad?" she asked, sounding surprisingly earnest. "What are we even doing this for, if not to drive the ghosts out of the mansion? Did you not specifically employ me for that purpose? What is our goal here...? I mean... I want to solve your master's riddle, but you didn't remember that until after we started," she questioned, now kneeling to get face to face with Mr. Prog. She stared intensely into his face with a bewildered expression that showed she wasn't sure whether to be suspicious, pleased, relieved, or even upset. "Have I really become so forgetful? Is age catching up with me, contributing senility atop of welcome experience? Just what ARE we doing here, if not driving out ghosts?"
"Fixing doors?" Jocelyn offered. "Eating turkey?"
The commentary from her operator didn't seem useful, so Sleuth tuned it out. "I'm not cross. But I am terribly, terribly confused. Can you help an old lady with her recollection, Sirrah?" She wasn't even able to think about investigating the armors any further as she spoke, so taken was her attention by the matter of her purpose in coming to the mansion.