"I dunno if I'd call it a contraption, but, if you want to see..." The Mr. Prog floated over and pressed the button, which created a massive change in the room...in the pool table just up and vanished. No fancy mechanical anything. Not even any jack out-like beams. "The table's safe and sound in the recess directly below it. It's very handy for vacuuming and the like."
The program then tried to float over to the door, but...tripped. While floating. That might actually be the biggest mystery of all in this mansion...though, Sleuth was the detective, so she probably had final say on the matter. "Um...I think I'm still kinda shaken from earlier, even though I don't sound like that. Just give me a moment, then we can head for the hallway."
FearScope: 7/100
- Balls don't counter fear if they look like they just exploded in your face
Mystic Mansion
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Sleuth frowned and shook her head. "I swear, sometimes I wish I could be a human detective instead of a navi! The net can be a pretty droll place sometimes," she sighed to herself, disapproving of the lack of an elaborate, mechanical method to move the table beneath the floor. "Everything's always poofing around in beams of light and flashes of color! I swear..."
Seeing the table in action hadn't turned out to be particularly interesting; what was more interesting was the mini-mystery that Mr. Prog unwittingly revealed to her. Most people would probably just ignore a Mr. Prog tripping and chock it up to Mr. Prog's cutesy and amusing blunders, but Sleuth was not most people. She was the type to over-investigate anything, if given the opportunity. "Hold right there, Mr. Prog!" she requested, catching her cane up in both hands and skittering quickly to where Mr. Prog had fallen. "Take as long as you need to recover, dear friend. In the mean time... I'll just..." she murmured, squatting down and resting one arm across her knees while using the other to hold aloft her giant (but surprisingly light) magnifying glass cane. She closely inspected the area where Mr. Prog had tripped, first visually, then by extending two gloved fingers slowly to touch at the area. Once she was satisfied with that, she used her open palm to test the floorboards, pushing down on the spot. "Hmmm..." Not satisfied yet, she invaded Mr. Prog's personal space and used her magnifying glass again, this time to check the space where Mr. Prog's legs and butt would be, if he didn't so closely resemble a floating spark plug instead of a human. She didn't want to intrude so far as to touch that area (for all she knew, Mr. Prog thought of it as his lower body, and she'd done enough groping of people's lower bodies for today). Still, she waved her hand beneath Mr. Prog to make sure there weren't some kind of invisible legs she wasn't aware of.
If that brought nothing to light, she's simply tip her hat to Mr. Prog and apologize for wasting their time.
Seeing the table in action hadn't turned out to be particularly interesting; what was more interesting was the mini-mystery that Mr. Prog unwittingly revealed to her. Most people would probably just ignore a Mr. Prog tripping and chock it up to Mr. Prog's cutesy and amusing blunders, but Sleuth was not most people. She was the type to over-investigate anything, if given the opportunity. "Hold right there, Mr. Prog!" she requested, catching her cane up in both hands and skittering quickly to where Mr. Prog had fallen. "Take as long as you need to recover, dear friend. In the mean time... I'll just..." she murmured, squatting down and resting one arm across her knees while using the other to hold aloft her giant (but surprisingly light) magnifying glass cane. She closely inspected the area where Mr. Prog had tripped, first visually, then by extending two gloved fingers slowly to touch at the area. Once she was satisfied with that, she used her open palm to test the floorboards, pushing down on the spot. "Hmmm..." Not satisfied yet, she invaded Mr. Prog's personal space and used her magnifying glass again, this time to check the space where Mr. Prog's legs and butt would be, if he didn't so closely resemble a floating spark plug instead of a human. She didn't want to intrude so far as to touch that area (for all she knew, Mr. Prog thought of it as his lower body, and she'd done enough groping of people's lower bodies for today). Still, she waved her hand beneath Mr. Prog to make sure there weren't some kind of invisible legs she wasn't aware of.
If that brought nothing to light, she's simply tip her hat to Mr. Prog and apologize for wasting their time.
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Unfortunately, despite her in-depth investigation of the matter, Sleuth couldn't find a single possible cause of Mr. Prog's fall. Curious. At least it gave him the time to stand(?) up and recover. Perhaps because of that, he didn't seem the least bit upset by the nothingness that had occurred. "Sorry for keeping you. Let's go."
Walking through the nearest door, the pair entered the hallway, which...had doors. Lots and lots of doors. Also an end table at the far end, but that was it. "First off, I forget why, but I really, REALLY do not recommend messing with that table. I recall that the last time I did that, something happened that was utterly terrifying. Dunno what, since I managed to repress it, but even thinking about what it could have been gives me the shivers." He floated over to the middle of the hallway, and looked down, ironically, at the end table. "Bear with me as I explain all the doors. From where I stand...the first two doors on the left lead to the foyer, and the third, to the observatory. Behind me, the washroom. Immediately to my right is the master bedroom, and down and to the right is the guest bedroom."
Sleuth certainly had some options here. But which one would she take?
FearScope: 4/100
- Nothing to say here
Walking through the nearest door, the pair entered the hallway, which...had doors. Lots and lots of doors. Also an end table at the far end, but that was it. "First off, I forget why, but I really, REALLY do not recommend messing with that table. I recall that the last time I did that, something happened that was utterly terrifying. Dunno what, since I managed to repress it, but even thinking about what it could have been gives me the shivers." He floated over to the middle of the hallway, and looked down, ironically, at the end table. "Bear with me as I explain all the doors. From where I stand...the first two doors on the left lead to the foyer, and the third, to the observatory. Behind me, the washroom. Immediately to my right is the master bedroom, and down and to the right is the guest bedroom."
Sleuth certainly had some options here. But which one would she take?
FearScope: 4/100
- Nothing to say here
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"... Another mystery that will haunt me to my grave! It isn't easy, being a detective," Sleuth murmured to herself seriously, then laughed it off and shrugged her shoulders. "I'm certain the net's foremost scientific minds will be pondering over this one for a long time to come! But for now, I'll focus on the task at hand." She dismissed the issue and followed Mr. Prog back out into the hallway.
Like most mansions, this particular one had a lot of rooms. Three more rooms were presented to the detective... along with a mysterious table. She walked towards Mr. Prog as he spoke, then placed one hand on his head and faced down the back of the hallway. "Yes... I can sense a strong aura of danger coming from that particular table. It's clearly quite dangerous," she joked, as she really had no inkling that it was apart from his own warning. "Mr. Prog, as a detective and moreover an intrepid and curious woman, it is my desire, nay, my duty to inspect that setting table. If anything should happen to me, please, tell my operator... to put on some pants," she finished, then straightened her coat dramatically and made her way over. It was beginning to seem that if Mr. Prog wanted to stop Sleuth from inspecting something, he was going to have to hide it from her.
She strolled over, crossing her arms, then whipped her body into a spin and stopped at 360 degrees, posing with her magnifying glass cane raised to enhance her view of the table. "Now! Yield to me your perilous secrets!" she beckoned it. Once it had done so, she'd go over and inspect it more closely, provided it wasn't some sustained form of perilous secret that made her want to stay away even after it was tripped.
Like most mansions, this particular one had a lot of rooms. Three more rooms were presented to the detective... along with a mysterious table. She walked towards Mr. Prog as he spoke, then placed one hand on his head and faced down the back of the hallway. "Yes... I can sense a strong aura of danger coming from that particular table. It's clearly quite dangerous," she joked, as she really had no inkling that it was apart from his own warning. "Mr. Prog, as a detective and moreover an intrepid and curious woman, it is my desire, nay, my duty to inspect that setting table. If anything should happen to me, please, tell my operator... to put on some pants," she finished, then straightened her coat dramatically and made her way over. It was beginning to seem that if Mr. Prog wanted to stop Sleuth from inspecting something, he was going to have to hide it from her.
She strolled over, crossing her arms, then whipped her body into a spin and stopped at 360 degrees, posing with her magnifying glass cane raised to enhance her view of the table. "Now! Yield to me your perilous secrets!" she beckoned it. Once it had done so, she'd go over and inspect it more closely, provided it wasn't some sustained form of perilous secret that made her want to stay away even after it was tripped.
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"No, don't! I really, really think that's a bad idea!" Too late. Sleuth drew near...and it began. Hundreds upon hundreds of Ratty burst from the table, flooding the room. Even the most hardened NetBattler would've been a bit edgy from seeing so many viruses at once. Just...so many...Ratty...
Eventually, they all vanished without a trace, allowing Navi and Prog to catch their breath. The latter was cowering in a corner, shaking. Once he realized they were alone again, he slowly turned around. "A-a-are they gone...? I h-hate mice...HATE them. No wonder I b-blocked that out..."
Even the great detective wasn't going to go through that one unscathed. Yeesh.
FearScope: 36/100
- So...many...Ratty...
Eventually, they all vanished without a trace, allowing Navi and Prog to catch their breath. The latter was cowering in a corner, shaking. Once he realized they were alone again, he slowly turned around. "A-a-are they gone...? I h-hate mice...HATE them. No wonder I b-blocked that out..."
Even the great detective wasn't going to go through that one unscathed. Yeesh.
FearScope: 36/100
- So...many...Ratty...
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"Come now! I know that these ghosts tend to be persistently shocking, but certainly the strain on your nerves starts to lessen a bit after repeated encounters, hm? I don't think there's anything they can throw at me that will be much worse than- ACK! RATS!" Sleuth reasoned and then cried out, falling onto her back and into the scampering pool of ghost Ratties. Thankfully, they weren't really tangible, but she couldn't help but imagine the feeling of tons of furry rodents all over her, with their wriggling, worm like tails and their little scratching claws (ignoring the fact that Ratties really didn't have claws or even fur). She remained on the floor, propping herself up with both arms as she took stock of her wits. "Well... My curiosity is one of my most endearing traits, but it certainly can lead me into some undesirable places," the detective reflected, sitting up fully now and brushing at her sleeves with both gloved hands, as if to wipe off traces of the rats. She realized that Mr. Prog was worse off than she was, however, and gave him a gentle pat on the head. "There, there. I'm shaken, not stirred, like any good Creamland friend of the law ought to be. I know that you have the same toughness as I do! Just look, it's all there in your steely smile," she reassured him, although she was still brushing her coat with her free hand without even realizing it. "Alright, I'll tell you one of my greatest fears so we're even, but don't repeat it to anyone. My greatest fear... is that I'll solve all of the world's greatest mysteries, to the point where none holds any challenge for me! It's a fear that I draw closer to with every step I take in this life. Easily one of my greatest weaknesses."
"I had no idea... Just how close are you?" Jocelyn asked. "Maybe I can come up with some new ones for you to solve?"
"Ha ha ha ha... ahah... no," Sleuth laughed dryly, crossing her arms in a way that didn't look particularly amused at the notion. "Well, my other fear is that I'm just too humble for my own good. I'd list a few more, but I can't reveal all of my cards right away! After all, you could still turn out to be an evil mastermind, and I don't want to give you too much of a leg up if we're forced to duel," she finished, clapping her gloved hands together with a joking smile. "Now, let's head to the washroom. After all, it is only proper to wash before entering a man's bedroom... Oh dear, excuse me again," the detective sighed, pressing one hand to her cheek in embarrassment at her faux paus. "I really must lay off the raunchy jokes evoking the late master. If this Mr. Prog were any less than a gentleman, I'd have been thrown out long ago," she mused. "... But I can't really resist dirty jokes either. So I suppose it was an inevitability."
"I noticed you're still brushing yourself off a lot," her operator added. "Maybe you should take a bath while you're in there? You might have gotten dirty when you were lying on the floor."
Sleuth puffed her cheeks out indignantly, liking neither being reminded that she'd been covered in rat ghosts, nor that she had been crawling around on the floor. "Hmph. Perhaps I would give the ghosties a peep-show, as you suggest, if only they hadn't taken so much of my time already. But for now, I don't feel as though I owe them any favors!" she responded, then trotted to the opposite end of the space to enter the washroom.
"I had no idea... Just how close are you?" Jocelyn asked. "Maybe I can come up with some new ones for you to solve?"
"Ha ha ha ha... ahah... no," Sleuth laughed dryly, crossing her arms in a way that didn't look particularly amused at the notion. "Well, my other fear is that I'm just too humble for my own good. I'd list a few more, but I can't reveal all of my cards right away! After all, you could still turn out to be an evil mastermind, and I don't want to give you too much of a leg up if we're forced to duel," she finished, clapping her gloved hands together with a joking smile. "Now, let's head to the washroom. After all, it is only proper to wash before entering a man's bedroom... Oh dear, excuse me again," the detective sighed, pressing one hand to her cheek in embarrassment at her faux paus. "I really must lay off the raunchy jokes evoking the late master. If this Mr. Prog were any less than a gentleman, I'd have been thrown out long ago," she mused. "... But I can't really resist dirty jokes either. So I suppose it was an inevitability."
"I noticed you're still brushing yourself off a lot," her operator added. "Maybe you should take a bath while you're in there? You might have gotten dirty when you were lying on the floor."
Sleuth puffed her cheeks out indignantly, liking neither being reminded that she'd been covered in rat ghosts, nor that she had been crawling around on the floor. "Hmph. Perhaps I would give the ghosties a peep-show, as you suggest, if only they hadn't taken so much of my time already. But for now, I don't feel as though I owe them any favors!" she responded, then trotted to the opposite end of the space to enter the washroom.
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"Th-thanks...I'll be fine. That one's weird, though. The others are just one virus...yet, that one has who knows how many. I guess mice reproduce as quickly in the cyberworld as in the real world..." The Mr. Prog went on to completely ignore the detective's fears, such as they were, and opened the door to the washroom for Sleuth.
Inside, the washroom wasn't a particularly big room. To the left, a sink with a medicine cabinet over it, and a small trash can in the corner. In front, a bathtub, with a nice big shower curtain for privacy. Since it was mostly off to the side, Sleuth could see that it also had a shower head, for when baths just wouldn't do. And to the right...a toilet? With a bidet next to it? Really?
"Not much to say about this room, really. Everything in here's fully functional, even the toilet and bidet. Not that they're ever used, of course...as for the ghost in here...what's it called...Nothing? Zilch? Nada? That's not it, but it's something like that. And where was it...I can't remember, exactly, but I remember it being fitting for it...hmm."
FearScope: 34/100
- Ability to search is mildly hindered
Inside, the washroom wasn't a particularly big room. To the left, a sink with a medicine cabinet over it, and a small trash can in the corner. In front, a bathtub, with a nice big shower curtain for privacy. Since it was mostly off to the side, Sleuth could see that it also had a shower head, for when baths just wouldn't do. And to the right...a toilet? With a bidet next to it? Really?
"Not much to say about this room, really. Everything in here's fully functional, even the toilet and bidet. Not that they're ever used, of course...as for the ghost in here...what's it called...Nothing? Zilch? Nada? That's not it, but it's something like that. And where was it...I can't remember, exactly, but I remember it being fitting for it...hmm."
FearScope: 34/100
- Ability to search is mildly hindered
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"I certainly hope the virus ghosts don't have a sex drive. I'm not even certain if regular viruses do. I can only see very unfortunate situations that would come from them having such urges," the detective responded, frowning and trying to shake the thought from her head. It certainly wasn't calming her down any to worry about the possibility that she might end up getting leg-humped by a Spikey ghost at some point. Sleuth followed the Mr. Prog into the washroom, feeling ever-so-slightly awkward as she did, as two adults of different genders seldom accompanied one another into such a place except for a few unscrupulous purposes.
Once inside, she inspected everything once over quickly, seeming relatively unsurprised by all of it until... "A bidet?!" she exclaimed, pressing both gloved hands to her cheeks in a comical expression of shock. "My word! I haven't seen one of these in quite some time... Which, I suppose, shouldn't be surprising, given the low quantity of excrement to be found on the net. It's not the sort of thing one typically programs when one has a choice."
"I still have a bidet in my home, actually. I had one installed when I moved into my new house, as I'm not certain how the average citizen functions without one. Just how would you keep your hiney clean without one?" Jocelyn questioned, tilting her head slightly.
Sleuth laughed out loud at the word hiney, then corrected herself, realizing that was a pretty childish thing to laugh about. "Ahem... toilet paper," she responded, simply enough. "You do work in a shopping mall, don't you? Certainly there are no bidets there?"
"I'm actually not allowed to enter the public bathrooms there," Jocelyn responded. Sleuth returned a questioning look, but the operator simply shrugged. "I'm sorry! I wish I could tell you whether there are bidets in there or not. But Rodney is very fervent that I cannot enter the public bathrooms in our mall alone. He says that those up to no-good might follow me in, and that it would be hard for help to reach me..."
Sleuth nodded slowly; that was a pretty decent point. Jocelyn was an exploitable type of girl and ordinarily, she'd have a lot of hidden security guards looking after her, but they couldn't exactly follow her inside the woman's bathroom. "I understand. Don't worry. I can table all bidet-related lines of questioning for now," she responded with a gravity that lent itself to comedy more than seriousness. "Well, it sounds like you have a nefarious 'Null' on your hands, and unfortunately, from your description, I can only presume one thing: the oafish lout has decided to hide inside one of the drains. Whether it be the sink drain, the shower drain, the bidet drain, or, unfortunately the most likely scenario, the toilet drain, I cannot say. But those places seem most appropriate for him. Let's see if we can avoid them, if at all possible... I certainly hope your master wouldn't be so crude as to hide a clue pasted on the inside of the toilet bowl or clogging up the drain, regardless."
"I agree, but that's exactly what makes it such a keen place to hide your secrets!" her operator pointed out, raising one finger as though it were a "eureka" moment.
"... Jocelyn, I hope you don't apply that same logic around Easter time," Sleuth joked, then promptly began to ignore her operator again. "Let's split up! I will start by checking the shower, while you check the medicine cabinet. And might I suggest that we keep the toilet lid shut? Both so that you can stand upon it and so that we don't risk upsetting the contemptible number two that lurks within." She tip-toed carefully towards the shower, raising her staff in one hand so that the underside was wielded outward like a blade, then made a crazy laugh as she pulled it back, imitating a classic film she'd seen once. After she'd confirmed no one was inside, she slowly removed her boots (only a barbarian would enter the bath with their shoes on), revealing the stocking-feet of her undersuit. The detective checked the shower-head closely, although she didn't really see much opportunity to hide a clue there, but it wouldn't hurt to look.
Sleuth thought to herself that if another flood of ghost rats came pouring out of the shower-head and into her face, she really might lose it.
Once inside, she inspected everything once over quickly, seeming relatively unsurprised by all of it until... "A bidet?!" she exclaimed, pressing both gloved hands to her cheeks in a comical expression of shock. "My word! I haven't seen one of these in quite some time... Which, I suppose, shouldn't be surprising, given the low quantity of excrement to be found on the net. It's not the sort of thing one typically programs when one has a choice."
"I still have a bidet in my home, actually. I had one installed when I moved into my new house, as I'm not certain how the average citizen functions without one. Just how would you keep your hiney clean without one?" Jocelyn questioned, tilting her head slightly.
Sleuth laughed out loud at the word hiney, then corrected herself, realizing that was a pretty childish thing to laugh about. "Ahem... toilet paper," she responded, simply enough. "You do work in a shopping mall, don't you? Certainly there are no bidets there?"
"I'm actually not allowed to enter the public bathrooms there," Jocelyn responded. Sleuth returned a questioning look, but the operator simply shrugged. "I'm sorry! I wish I could tell you whether there are bidets in there or not. But Rodney is very fervent that I cannot enter the public bathrooms in our mall alone. He says that those up to no-good might follow me in, and that it would be hard for help to reach me..."
Sleuth nodded slowly; that was a pretty decent point. Jocelyn was an exploitable type of girl and ordinarily, she'd have a lot of hidden security guards looking after her, but they couldn't exactly follow her inside the woman's bathroom. "I understand. Don't worry. I can table all bidet-related lines of questioning for now," she responded with a gravity that lent itself to comedy more than seriousness. "Well, it sounds like you have a nefarious 'Null' on your hands, and unfortunately, from your description, I can only presume one thing: the oafish lout has decided to hide inside one of the drains. Whether it be the sink drain, the shower drain, the bidet drain, or, unfortunately the most likely scenario, the toilet drain, I cannot say. But those places seem most appropriate for him. Let's see if we can avoid them, if at all possible... I certainly hope your master wouldn't be so crude as to hide a clue pasted on the inside of the toilet bowl or clogging up the drain, regardless."
"I agree, but that's exactly what makes it such a keen place to hide your secrets!" her operator pointed out, raising one finger as though it were a "eureka" moment.
"... Jocelyn, I hope you don't apply that same logic around Easter time," Sleuth joked, then promptly began to ignore her operator again. "Let's split up! I will start by checking the shower, while you check the medicine cabinet. And might I suggest that we keep the toilet lid shut? Both so that you can stand upon it and so that we don't risk upsetting the contemptible number two that lurks within." She tip-toed carefully towards the shower, raising her staff in one hand so that the underside was wielded outward like a blade, then made a crazy laugh as she pulled it back, imitating a classic film she'd seen once. After she'd confirmed no one was inside, she slowly removed her boots (only a barbarian would enter the bath with their shoes on), revealing the stocking-feet of her undersuit. The detective checked the shower-head closely, although she didn't really see much opportunity to hide a clue there, but it wouldn't hurt to look.
Sleuth thought to herself that if another flood of ghost rats came pouring out of the shower-head and into her face, she really might lose it.
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The Mr. Prog nodded as Sleuth made her deduction. "A drain...that makes sense. And the bidet and toilet are really just there to make the room look more, I guess authentic would be the word. Like a human could actually live here or something."
And with that, the search began! The Navi entered the bath, and drew near the shower head...wait, she could see something in there...!
Bam! The detective found herself suddenly drenched, as some water gushed out. At least it was just embarrassing, and not actually scary at all. And...hmm? The water was coming together...forming a chip. Dare she take it? Yeah, she dared.
Sleuth GET: Bubbler BattleChip data
Meanwhile, the program was dutifully searching the medicine cabinet, atop the sink. Good thing he floated. "Hmm...nope, no clues here...actually, wait a sec. Aha!" He hopped off, and hovered over to his guest. "Oh, did the shower head get you? It does that sometimes, but I didn't warn you since then you might not be thorough with your search. Did you find anything? Oh, I'm getting ahead of myself. There weren't any clues in the medicine cabinet, but I did find this. We keep it around for emergencies, but it'll be easy enough to replace, so please, take it."
Sleuth GET: MiniEnergy SubChip
Well, it seemed she was good at finding everything but the clue...
FearScope: 29/100
- Having cold water suddenly sprayed on you makes you quite alert
And with that, the search began! The Navi entered the bath, and drew near the shower head...wait, she could see something in there...!
Bam! The detective found herself suddenly drenched, as some water gushed out. At least it was just embarrassing, and not actually scary at all. And...hmm? The water was coming together...forming a chip. Dare she take it? Yeah, she dared.
Sleuth GET: Bubbler BattleChip data
Meanwhile, the program was dutifully searching the medicine cabinet, atop the sink. Good thing he floated. "Hmm...nope, no clues here...actually, wait a sec. Aha!" He hopped off, and hovered over to his guest. "Oh, did the shower head get you? It does that sometimes, but I didn't warn you since then you might not be thorough with your search. Did you find anything? Oh, I'm getting ahead of myself. There weren't any clues in the medicine cabinet, but I did find this. We keep it around for emergencies, but it'll be easy enough to replace, so please, take it."
Sleuth GET: MiniEnergy SubChip
Well, it seemed she was good at finding everything but the clue...
FearScope: 29/100
- Having cold water suddenly sprayed on you makes you quite alert
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"Oh, I understand completely. Too often are we navis relegated to dull environments for the sake of 'practicality,' the offenders stating that we don't need such foolishness because it serves us no purpose. But doesn't it? It's a delight to experience the things humans so often take for granted! Have you ever had the experience of using an oven or organizing a closet on the net? The fact that the mundane features of life are so foreign to us navis makes them exciting, in a way," Sleuth chuckled, praising the late master's impeccable taste in bathroom design. "Well... actually, I suppose you definitely have some experience doing those things. Nevermind. I suppose- blrughrhghrgh!" The detective was thus interrupted, with water streaming out of the showerhead and into her face, knocking the cap off of her short-cut hair and onto the smooth porcelain tub. "... I would ask how or why your master hid a chip this way, but I feel as though I wouldn't get a sufficient answer regardless. But my, what... whimsy... your master has," she laughed dryly, while she began wringing out her shoulder-cape. Once she realized that was futile, she shrugged it off, hanging it atop the shower-rod. That didn't really suffice in terms of making her comfortable again; her coat had to come off as well. She pulled it away from her massive chest, then removed her arms one by one until it was removed. Thankfully, her skinsuit at least was pretty safe... except for the feet. "Drat and double drat! There's nothing worse than the feeling of wet stocking feet. I swear that to you."
"That is a terrible feeling..." Jocelyn agreed, shivering. "Luckily, I'm barefoot today, so I'll be fine even if I have to step into a wet tub!"
"... Yes, I suppose so. On that note, Mr. Prog... I will require privacy for a moment," she sighed, drawing the curtain to the shower closed. The worst part on her whole skinsuit had gotten wet, and there was really no way to cope with that. As such, her only recourse was to remove it, which she would have to do by reaching into the seam that ran down the "vest" patterned portion of her chest. First, she removed her gloves, then, she proceeded to pull open the suit and step out of it. Whatever she was wearing underneath was hidden, as only her silhouette was visible to Mr. Prog. "Such a pain~" Sleuth sang, although it sounded like she was rather enjoying getting naked in a stranger's house, which ought not to be a surprise to anyone at this point. "Mr. Prog, would you be so kind as to hand me a towel? I assume that there must be one somewhere in this bathroom, as otherwise, the shower wouldn't make a lot of sense."
"I didn't see one..." Jocelyn pointed out, although she was making another quick scan with her eyes.
"Well, thank you for that mini-energy subchip as well. In gratitude, I will continue to fulfill my contractual obligations... while I wait, I will search that drain. Let's see..." she murmured, placing her fists at her hips and slowly lowering her back so that she could peak into the drain a bit. The motion made apparent the shadow of her tremendous breasts hanging; it was hard to avoid staring. It had been clear that they were big, even with the coat, but it wasn't apparent just how large until this point.
And it was all wasted on Mr. Prog and Jocelyn.
"That is a terrible feeling..." Jocelyn agreed, shivering. "Luckily, I'm barefoot today, so I'll be fine even if I have to step into a wet tub!"
"... Yes, I suppose so. On that note, Mr. Prog... I will require privacy for a moment," she sighed, drawing the curtain to the shower closed. The worst part on her whole skinsuit had gotten wet, and there was really no way to cope with that. As such, her only recourse was to remove it, which she would have to do by reaching into the seam that ran down the "vest" patterned portion of her chest. First, she removed her gloves, then, she proceeded to pull open the suit and step out of it. Whatever she was wearing underneath was hidden, as only her silhouette was visible to Mr. Prog. "Such a pain~" Sleuth sang, although it sounded like she was rather enjoying getting naked in a stranger's house, which ought not to be a surprise to anyone at this point. "Mr. Prog, would you be so kind as to hand me a towel? I assume that there must be one somewhere in this bathroom, as otherwise, the shower wouldn't make a lot of sense."
"I didn't see one..." Jocelyn pointed out, although she was making another quick scan with her eyes.
"Well, thank you for that mini-energy subchip as well. In gratitude, I will continue to fulfill my contractual obligations... while I wait, I will search that drain. Let's see..." she murmured, placing her fists at her hips and slowly lowering her back so that she could peak into the drain a bit. The motion made apparent the shadow of her tremendous breasts hanging; it was hard to avoid staring. It had been clear that they were big, even with the coat, but it wasn't apparent just how large until this point.
And it was all wasted on Mr. Prog and Jocelyn.
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As it turned out, the silhouette was, in fact, not wasted on the Mr. Prog and Jocelyn...because as soon as she mentioned needing privacy, the former turned away to face the door. He considered flat out leaving the room, but it would be rather rude to leave someone alone in a room that they both knew was haunted. He probably didn't want to go back out to that hallway by himself, either.
"Towel? Sure thing." Fortunately, there just so happened to be a towel hanging from a hook on the back of the door. Considering it was still neatly folded, odds were it was clean. The program hovered over, grabbed it, then proceed to move backwards until he was right next to the tub. From there, he moved to the side, until he was at the end away from the toilet, since that was suspected to be a ghost scare waiting to happen. He extended one of his arms behind the curtain, all the while not even daring to turn around.
Meanwhile, Sleuth had a drain to check out. Hmm...nope, no clues. It was, however, immaculate. Either it was very rarely used, or Mr. Prog did a great job keeping it clean. But that was about all she could discern from a look.
FearScope: 24/100
- If you're not afraid to get naked in any random shower, what are you afraid of?
"Towel? Sure thing." Fortunately, there just so happened to be a towel hanging from a hook on the back of the door. Considering it was still neatly folded, odds were it was clean. The program hovered over, grabbed it, then proceed to move backwards until he was right next to the tub. From there, he moved to the side, until he was at the end away from the toilet, since that was suspected to be a ghost scare waiting to happen. He extended one of his arms behind the curtain, all the while not even daring to turn around.
Meanwhile, Sleuth had a drain to check out. Hmm...nope, no clues. It was, however, immaculate. Either it was very rarely used, or Mr. Prog did a great job keeping it clean. But that was about all she could discern from a look.
FearScope: 24/100
- If you're not afraid to get naked in any random shower, what are you afraid of?
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"Such a gentleman," Sleuth responded with a light and airy tone, accepting Mr. Prog's towel with gratitude. She only really needed to wipe her face, hair, and a bit of her feet. After that point, the towel was still dry enough that she could use it for her unintended purpose: she wrapped it around herself, knotted it a bit at the chest, then stepped back out, believing all to be well. The towel was long enough to cover what needed to be covered, but it would be hard for any warm-blooded man to avoid staring at her bare thighs or the upper cleavage of her gigantic bosom, so full that it looked as though it was threatening to burst open the towel at any moment. Besides the towel, she may very well be naked, as there were no signs of a bra's shoulder straps coming from beneath.
She lifted her arms above her head for a moment to run her hands through her hair, then shook it out a bit so that the bob came back, not caring for the swept-back look. The detective smiled at Mr. Prog, while drying her hands on the hips of her towel. Her face was just a bit red, more out of arousal than out of embarrassment. "It's really just a shame that the late master isn't here and that, well, you and the ghosts really aren't the amorous type. I'm ready to be taken and there's no one to take me~" she cooed, walking with a deliberate sway of her hips.
"Sleuth," Jocelyn whispered, looking as if she was trying to tell a secret.
"Yes, Jocelyn?" her navi responded.
"Are you asking Mr. Prog to take you?" the operator asked. Sleuth now wondered if Jocelyn really knew what the expression meant.
"No... I'm just the type who performs, even if there's no one to watch. I'm a lonely person like that," Sleuth answered, putting on some fake sniffling to accent her point. "Oh well. Mr. Prog, I regret to inform you that while we may be fortunate enough to assume we do not need to check the toilet, our last two spots in this room are still rather unpleasant," she continued, now turning her attention back to the mansion's caretaker. "One of us must check the trash, while the other checks the bidet. Being the lady that I am, I will inspect the bidet while you investigate the garbage. Although, I certainly hope your master isn't the type to throw a clue in with the bathroom waste... Although, with any luck, you've already taken proper care of the garbage. That's it, right? You're the diligent sort, so investigating the trash for you is as sanitary as investigating an empty basket!"
"An empty basket won't hold any clues, though, being that it's empty," her operator reminded her.
Sleuth made a show of slapping her forehead and put on a shocked expression. "My goodness, you're right! Mr. Prog, let us hope that you were not too diligent, or else the next clue may already have been thrown out like rubbish!" Of course, she wasn't really worried about that. "Now let's see..." she murmured, retrieving her staff and using its lens to closely inspect the inside of the bidet... without actually touching any of it. Even if Mr. Prog was pretty good about keeping it clean, she really didn't want to feel around the inside of a bidet, especially not without her gloves on.
At that point, Sleuth realized she was feeling a bit naked... and promptly replaced her gloves. "Ah... they're so snug," she beamed, wiggling her fingers as she continued the inspection and looking silly in only the towel and her gloves.
She lifted her arms above her head for a moment to run her hands through her hair, then shook it out a bit so that the bob came back, not caring for the swept-back look. The detective smiled at Mr. Prog, while drying her hands on the hips of her towel. Her face was just a bit red, more out of arousal than out of embarrassment. "It's really just a shame that the late master isn't here and that, well, you and the ghosts really aren't the amorous type. I'm ready to be taken and there's no one to take me~" she cooed, walking with a deliberate sway of her hips.
"Sleuth," Jocelyn whispered, looking as if she was trying to tell a secret.
"Yes, Jocelyn?" her navi responded.
"Are you asking Mr. Prog to take you?" the operator asked. Sleuth now wondered if Jocelyn really knew what the expression meant.
"No... I'm just the type who performs, even if there's no one to watch. I'm a lonely person like that," Sleuth answered, putting on some fake sniffling to accent her point. "Oh well. Mr. Prog, I regret to inform you that while we may be fortunate enough to assume we do not need to check the toilet, our last two spots in this room are still rather unpleasant," she continued, now turning her attention back to the mansion's caretaker. "One of us must check the trash, while the other checks the bidet. Being the lady that I am, I will inspect the bidet while you investigate the garbage. Although, I certainly hope your master isn't the type to throw a clue in with the bathroom waste... Although, with any luck, you've already taken proper care of the garbage. That's it, right? You're the diligent sort, so investigating the trash for you is as sanitary as investigating an empty basket!"
"An empty basket won't hold any clues, though, being that it's empty," her operator reminded her.
Sleuth made a show of slapping her forehead and put on a shocked expression. "My goodness, you're right! Mr. Prog, let us hope that you were not too diligent, or else the next clue may already have been thrown out like rubbish!" Of course, she wasn't really worried about that. "Now let's see..." she murmured, retrieving her staff and using its lens to closely inspect the inside of the bidet... without actually touching any of it. Even if Mr. Prog was pretty good about keeping it clean, she really didn't want to feel around the inside of a bidet, especially not without her gloves on.
At that point, Sleuth realized she was feeling a bit naked... and promptly replaced her gloves. "Ah... they're so snug," she beamed, wiggling her fingers as she continued the inspection and looking silly in only the towel and her gloves.
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As Sleuth predicted, Mr. Prog was entirely unfazed by her semi-scandalous choice in attire. He just floated in place, then headed for the trash can as requested. "Well, it doesn't see much use, so I doubt I threw anything of importance out. But, let's see...nope, nothing. Not even trash."
The detective Navi, however, found more luck, as on closer inspection, there appeared to be a tiny panel in the wall that could be removed behind the bidet. Could it be...? Yep, it sure could. Clue time!
'Not quite Far'
"Hmm? Looks like you had better luck than I did. Not quite far? ...Why is the word far capitalized like that? As always, it makes no sense to me..." Of course, that was why he had sought outside help. But did Sleuth know what it meant?
FearScope: 19/100
- Not wearing much and clues, what more does a girl need for her confidence?
The detective Navi, however, found more luck, as on closer inspection, there appeared to be a tiny panel in the wall that could be removed behind the bidet. Could it be...? Yep, it sure could. Clue time!
'Not quite Far'
"Hmm? Looks like you had better luck than I did. Not quite far? ...Why is the word far capitalized like that? As always, it makes no sense to me..." Of course, that was why he had sought outside help. But did Sleuth know what it meant?
FearScope: 19/100
- Not wearing much and clues, what more does a girl need for her confidence?
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"No surprises there," Sleuth sighed in response to Mr. Prog's report. "I doubt your master would hide anything important there in the first place, but even that is more likely than the possibility that you'd have left trash in the trash can so long after his passing." Her depression was quickly replaced with excitement, however, as she stumbled upon another well-hidden clue. "Ah ha! You know, all of us detectives dream of finding hidden tile compartments like these. That's why we wear gloves, you see! So that we'll be ready to finger any and all bathroom tiling for clues."
"Ew," Jocelyn remarked with a small, mildly critical frown.
"Joking! I'm just joking, Jocelyn, like I often do," Sleuth chuckled, while inspecting the clue. "'Not quite Far.' Your master has put together a devil of a mystery!" she gasped, tapping her fingers together in a small pyramid, her eyes flashing with enthusiasm. "Very astute of you to notice that oddity, sirrah. Each of these clues is a new mystery... we've gone from what I figured would be an obvious phonetic pattern to letters and numbers, colors, words and percentages, and now this! What could it all mean...? Perhaps... 'Not quite Far' could mean 'Fa,' which has little meaning to me apart from a common syllable used to convey musical tone, or it could simply mean to say 'a word conveying distance, but less distance than far.' But there are few simple words or expressions that can convey that meaning clearly. It's all got me stumped!"
"Don't worry! We've still got a few rooms left. He probably just made these clues to throw you off," her operator proposed with a well-meaning smile.
Sleuth shrugged, returning the expression. "I seriously doubt that. It would make for a terribly aggravating mystery. I see it as a great challenge... One that I'll solve, within the next few rooms!" she announced, pressing one hand to the swelled breast of her towel. "Although it's a bit of a walk, let us check the guest bedroom first, if you don't mind. I'd like to save the master bedroom for last... It seems like the appropriate place for a climax!" Realizing how that sounded, she shook her head quickly to dismiss the statement. "That one wasn't intentional." As she walked and Mr. Prog floated, she made her way to the guest bedroom, which hopefully would have its own stories to tell, and pondered the clues she'd obtained so far. "Perhaps it is all related to the musical solfege? If the last is Fa... 50% of father could perhaps equate to Fa in some way... Very could indicate So... Teeth may contain Ti in its body... but there are so few other matches, and these by themselves are quite a stretch. Furthermore, I haven't seen a piano or a microphone that would indicate a musical contraption, so it's probably a dead end..." the detective murmured to herself.
((Clues: Deer. Beam. Teeth. U2U. Very. Green and gray splotches. Father of a baby (50%). Not quite Far.))
"Ew," Jocelyn remarked with a small, mildly critical frown.
"Joking! I'm just joking, Jocelyn, like I often do," Sleuth chuckled, while inspecting the clue. "'Not quite Far.' Your master has put together a devil of a mystery!" she gasped, tapping her fingers together in a small pyramid, her eyes flashing with enthusiasm. "Very astute of you to notice that oddity, sirrah. Each of these clues is a new mystery... we've gone from what I figured would be an obvious phonetic pattern to letters and numbers, colors, words and percentages, and now this! What could it all mean...? Perhaps... 'Not quite Far' could mean 'Fa,' which has little meaning to me apart from a common syllable used to convey musical tone, or it could simply mean to say 'a word conveying distance, but less distance than far.' But there are few simple words or expressions that can convey that meaning clearly. It's all got me stumped!"
"Don't worry! We've still got a few rooms left. He probably just made these clues to throw you off," her operator proposed with a well-meaning smile.
Sleuth shrugged, returning the expression. "I seriously doubt that. It would make for a terribly aggravating mystery. I see it as a great challenge... One that I'll solve, within the next few rooms!" she announced, pressing one hand to the swelled breast of her towel. "Although it's a bit of a walk, let us check the guest bedroom first, if you don't mind. I'd like to save the master bedroom for last... It seems like the appropriate place for a climax!" Realizing how that sounded, she shook her head quickly to dismiss the statement. "That one wasn't intentional." As she walked and Mr. Prog floated, she made her way to the guest bedroom, which hopefully would have its own stories to tell, and pondered the clues she'd obtained so far. "Perhaps it is all related to the musical solfege? If the last is Fa... 50% of father could perhaps equate to Fa in some way... Very could indicate So... Teeth may contain Ti in its body... but there are so few other matches, and these by themselves are quite a stretch. Furthermore, I haven't seen a piano or a microphone that would indicate a musical contraption, so it's probably a dead end..." the detective murmured to herself.
((Clues: Deer. Beam. Teeth. U2U. Very. Green and gray splotches. Father of a baby (50%). Not quite Far.))
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"Umm..." The Mr. Prog took a good slook at Sleuth, unable to figure out how to gently say what he wanted to. Oh well. "Are you sure you don't want to put your clothes back on before continuing the search?" ...Guess not. He should probably follow before he got left behind. "...Last door on the right!"
The guest bedroom wasn't anything particularly special. Most notably, the bed seemed big enough for multiple Sleuths to comfortably sleep in, and looked quite comfy. Or at least, that's the vibe it gave off. Drawers were to either side of the bed, with nothing on top of them. The near corners were also occupied; one by a desk and chair, and one by a decently sized wardrobe. Like most of the rooms on the second floor, it was a dead end, with no other doors leading in or out.
"Well, this is the guest bedroom. Nothing jumps out to me as something I need to explain...except for the ghost, of course. I remember it was a Scarecrow...and its place...I remember using it for a lamp until I realized what it was. Though, there are several places here that could use a lamp, so I guess that's not a very good hint..."
FearScope: 16/100
- Sleuth is probably more worried about the towel continuing to cover her than anything else right now
The guest bedroom wasn't anything particularly special. Most notably, the bed seemed big enough for multiple Sleuths to comfortably sleep in, and looked quite comfy. Or at least, that's the vibe it gave off. Drawers were to either side of the bed, with nothing on top of them. The near corners were also occupied; one by a desk and chair, and one by a decently sized wardrobe. Like most of the rooms on the second floor, it was a dead end, with no other doors leading in or out.
"Well, this is the guest bedroom. Nothing jumps out to me as something I need to explain...except for the ghost, of course. I remember it was a Scarecrow...and its place...I remember using it for a lamp until I realized what it was. Though, there are several places here that could use a lamp, so I guess that's not a very good hint..."
FearScope: 16/100
- Sleuth is probably more worried about the towel continuing to cover her than anything else right now
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"I am absolutely, one-hundred percent certain that unless you demand it of me as the caretaker of this establishment, I have no desire whatsoever to redress myself," Sleuth responded off-handedly to Mr. Prog's perfectly civilized question. She provided no reasoning to justify her decision. "So, guest bedroom..." If the master bedroom was the climax, then the guest bedroom could be viewed as "filler;" no mystery writer in their right mind would hide anything important in the guest bedroom when they had the master bedroom to work with, at least not unless they had an inventive twist in mind... or otherwise were falling back to old, tired cliches of attempting to subvert audience expectation by placing extraordinary things in less extraordinary places. Originality was the critical divider that would separate one writer from another. "Altogether, I like the room. It looks as though it would serve its purpose. But I mostly want to finish here so that we can move on to the main course! I'm a woman who enjoys a good build-up, but we've been building up for quite some time now, and I'm quite ready for the conclusion arrive so that the falling action may begin."
Jocelyn knit her eyebrows, trying to interpret her navi's meaning. Finally, she gave a smile that was at once happy and completely ignorant, signifying that she'd given up trying to understand. "I wouldn't mind falling into that bed myself! Today's activities have made me quite sleepy. I enjoy a large bed like that one," she remarked cheerfully, then yawned into her long shirt-sleeve.
"... I believe it's still relatively early in your part of the world. Don't fall asleep on your job," Sleuth sighed, although Jocelyn tended to contribute the same value to the security of the Gloria Scott asleep as she did awake. "I mustn't slouch either. Let us see... I suppose we'll first begin to surmise where the ghost should be. In my estimation, if it was placed such that you believed it to be a lamp, then I would guess it occupied one of the drawers nearby the bed. If one place in the room had a lamp, it would probably be there. After all, you'd want the lamp somewhere that would make it easy to turn on and off, if, say you finished a book in bed, and weary, you wished to kill the lights and drift into slumber without climbing back to your feet. Or, you know, any other activity you might perform at length in bed before sleeping."
"I used to jump on mine," Jocelyn added. "I haven't in quite some time though. It's become a bit uncomfortable to jump like that and my weight has increased somewhat."
"I can imagine you're not lying on either point," Sleuth agreed. "Well, if my reasoning is correct, we should put off the drawers as long as possible. I'll begin with the bed, which may take some time to search all around. Do not fear; I won't bundle up and fall asleep. While I'm doing that, you can begin searching that chair and desk in the corner. There is a slight chance you would have thought a lamp might be there as well... But, if so, well, that's simply poor luck on our part. An occupational hazard we both face. We both understand the risks that come along with our jobs, detective and housekeeper respectively," the detective spoke, placing one gloved hand comfortingly upon Mr. Prog's head... or, it might have been comforting, if she wasn't basically just throwing him to the wolves again. With that resolved, she moved over to the bed and began searching under the covers. Once that was done, she'd get beneath the pillows, then the mattress, then beneath the bed itself, leaving no cushion unturned. It was telling that she did not attempt to remake the bed after messing it up. She probably wouldn't make a great house-guest to have to take care of.
((Clues: Deer. Beam. Teeth. U2U. Very. Green and gray splotches. Father of a baby (50%). Not quite Far.))
Jocelyn knit her eyebrows, trying to interpret her navi's meaning. Finally, she gave a smile that was at once happy and completely ignorant, signifying that she'd given up trying to understand. "I wouldn't mind falling into that bed myself! Today's activities have made me quite sleepy. I enjoy a large bed like that one," she remarked cheerfully, then yawned into her long shirt-sleeve.
"... I believe it's still relatively early in your part of the world. Don't fall asleep on your job," Sleuth sighed, although Jocelyn tended to contribute the same value to the security of the Gloria Scott asleep as she did awake. "I mustn't slouch either. Let us see... I suppose we'll first begin to surmise where the ghost should be. In my estimation, if it was placed such that you believed it to be a lamp, then I would guess it occupied one of the drawers nearby the bed. If one place in the room had a lamp, it would probably be there. After all, you'd want the lamp somewhere that would make it easy to turn on and off, if, say you finished a book in bed, and weary, you wished to kill the lights and drift into slumber without climbing back to your feet. Or, you know, any other activity you might perform at length in bed before sleeping."
"I used to jump on mine," Jocelyn added. "I haven't in quite some time though. It's become a bit uncomfortable to jump like that and my weight has increased somewhat."
"I can imagine you're not lying on either point," Sleuth agreed. "Well, if my reasoning is correct, we should put off the drawers as long as possible. I'll begin with the bed, which may take some time to search all around. Do not fear; I won't bundle up and fall asleep. While I'm doing that, you can begin searching that chair and desk in the corner. There is a slight chance you would have thought a lamp might be there as well... But, if so, well, that's simply poor luck on our part. An occupational hazard we both face. We both understand the risks that come along with our jobs, detective and housekeeper respectively," the detective spoke, placing one gloved hand comfortingly upon Mr. Prog's head... or, it might have been comforting, if she wasn't basically just throwing him to the wolves again. With that resolved, she moved over to the bed and began searching under the covers. Once that was done, she'd get beneath the pillows, then the mattress, then beneath the bed itself, leaving no cushion unturned. It was telling that she did not attempt to remake the bed after messing it up. She probably wouldn't make a great house-guest to have to take care of.
((Clues: Deer. Beam. Teeth. U2U. Very. Green and gray splotches. Father of a baby (50%). Not quite Far.))
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"Desk and chair...all right, I'm on it." The Mr. Prog moved over and did some searching as Sleuth got to searching the bed. She went through all the layers pretty thoroughly, but nada. Nothing resembling either a clue or anything useful. Or anything not useful. It was just a bed, and spotless, at that.
The housekeeper, however, had something in each hand. And though he had done so at her request, it probably stung a little that he had a scrap of paper and she didn't. "There was a little bit of money in the desk's drawer, and I found the clue attached to the bottom of the chair. Here." Both were transferred to the Navi's possession.
Sleuth GET: 300z
"The, Whazzapian"
"The Whazzapian? I can't think of anything Whazzapian in here...I really hope we find something less confusing soon, or else my mind's going to go all topsy turvy." His mind, however, was still there enough that he took one good look at the bed, then back at Sleuth, and gave her about the unhappiest look a Mr. Prog could give someone...which wasn't very unhappy, but to even show that much displeasure was something in itself.
FearScope: 13/100
- Sleuth is such a slob
The housekeeper, however, had something in each hand. And though he had done so at her request, it probably stung a little that he had a scrap of paper and she didn't. "There was a little bit of money in the desk's drawer, and I found the clue attached to the bottom of the chair. Here." Both were transferred to the Navi's possession.
Sleuth GET: 300
"The, Whazzapian"
"The Whazzapian? I can't think of anything Whazzapian in here...I really hope we find something less confusing soon, or else my mind's going to go all topsy turvy." His mind, however, was still there enough that he took one good look at the bed, then back at Sleuth, and gave her about the unhappiest look a Mr. Prog could give someone...which wasn't very unhappy, but to even show that much displeasure was something in itself.
FearScope: 13/100
- Sleuth is such a slob
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Sleuth was slightly disappointed that she hadn't managed to uncover the late master's stash of porno mags beneath the guest mattress; alas, the space was empty. Mr. Prog had significantly more luck, returning with both zenny and a new clue. "My dear boy, I'm beginning to feel like such a lout, digging through all of the furniture for spare change," she chuckled, although the money didn't matter to her nearly as much as the clue. "It says 'The, Whazzapian," she murmured, emphasizing the pause. "No, it couldn't be... There was an old language in that area which no one uses much any more, one that used 'la' in the place of 'the.' Perhaps the solfege trend need not be dismissed so easily! But, even if these were all pieces of the solfege, I have no idea how I'd arrange them into the proper order, given that I was free to investigate the rooms in any order I chose. I couldn't simply try them at random... when you get into the exponential value of combinations, it gets rather dicey. All of that to say nothing of the fact that I have no idea what to sing into."
"Perhaps you can sing it into the air itself? Do re mi fa so la ti dooo~" her operator sang, as if to demonstrate. To her credit, she had a very pleasant singing voice, as the pampered daughter of a rich, high-society man ought to.
"I think not. Well, Mr. Prog, we resolved this room quite quickly, didn't we? There may be additional knicks and knacks, not to mention ghosts, hidden here and there, but we need not contend with them. Let's head on to the master bedroom," the detective cheered, making her way towards the door. She stopped partway, realizing that Mr. Prog was staring at her. Perhaps finally taken with her womanly charms, when seen from the back? Was Mr. Prog an ass man? No, she realized now that his expression was less of a stare and more of a glare. "What? Come now! We already went through this. Occupational hazards! One of the occupational hazards of being a house-keeper such as yourself is the distinct possibility that guests will ruin your bedspreads!" she scolded him, although it really ought to be the other way around. "But we'll have to address that later. The end of our search is far too near to possibly be derailed by the need for tidiness!"
Sleuth proceeded out the door she'd come in and headed for the master bedroom, holding on to her hope for something exciting, be it the final clue or perhaps another twist. "Wouldn't it be silly if we charged in and found Mata sleeping on the bed?" she joked, ruining the sense of tension that she was herself trying to cling to. Whoops.
((Clues: Deer. Beam. Teeth. U2U. Very. Green and gray splotches. Father of a baby (50%). Not quite Far. The, Whazzapian.))
"Perhaps you can sing it into the air itself? Do re mi fa so la ti dooo~" her operator sang, as if to demonstrate. To her credit, she had a very pleasant singing voice, as the pampered daughter of a rich, high-society man ought to.
"I think not. Well, Mr. Prog, we resolved this room quite quickly, didn't we? There may be additional knicks and knacks, not to mention ghosts, hidden here and there, but we need not contend with them. Let's head on to the master bedroom," the detective cheered, making her way towards the door. She stopped partway, realizing that Mr. Prog was staring at her. Perhaps finally taken with her womanly charms, when seen from the back? Was Mr. Prog an ass man? No, she realized now that his expression was less of a stare and more of a glare. "What? Come now! We already went through this. Occupational hazards! One of the occupational hazards of being a house-keeper such as yourself is the distinct possibility that guests will ruin your bedspreads!" she scolded him, although it really ought to be the other way around. "But we'll have to address that later. The end of our search is far too near to possibly be derailed by the need for tidiness!"
Sleuth proceeded out the door she'd come in and headed for the master bedroom, holding on to her hope for something exciting, be it the final clue or perhaps another twist. "Wouldn't it be silly if we charged in and found Mata sleeping on the bed?" she joked, ruining the sense of tension that she was herself trying to cling to. Whoops.
((Clues: Deer. Beam. Teeth. U2U. Very. Green and gray splotches. Father of a baby (50%). Not quite Far. The, Whazzapian.))
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"..." Mr. Prog continued to silently stare, but eventually followed Sleuth out of the room. If looks could kill...Mr. Progs probably wouldn't be capable of it. But this look would probably at least sting a bit.
Inside the master bedroom...well, it was easily the biggest room on the second floor. The first thing that would get noticed was the absolutely gigantic bed straight ahead. If no one minded sharing, an entire party could get drunk in the wine cellar, then sleep it off in that one bed. To either side was a nightstand, complete with a lamp atop it.
The second thing that would get noticed was a grand piano occupying the far left corner of the room. Not a speck of dust existed on it, which was probably a testament to how clean Mr. Prog kept the place. Sadly, there was no music sheet or anything on it, so unless the detective Navi knew any songs from memory, she wouldn't be able to play it.
To the left of the doorway was a large desk. It had its own lamp and writing supplies, but there weren't any papers or anything. Whether that was the previous owner's design, or the Prog's, was probably a mystery in itself. And to the right, a massive armoire, with who knew how many drawers to either side. She could probably count them, but that'd take a minute in itself.
Also notable was the right wall...or lack thereof. Most of it was a giant window, giving a rather scenic view of the surrounding area...as well as of the balcony outside. Accessing it would be easy enough; just use the door in the far corner.
Unlike most of the rooms, the master bedroom's decorating extended to the floor, with a couple of rugs occupying select spots. They didn't look super expensive, but they did seem to be well made.
"Here we are...the late master's room. The piano's mostly for show, he had the musical talent of a Tuby. Though, I must say, it does give the room a dignified air to it. The ghost was...oh, I forget the name. It's round and has one eye. Anyway, I remember it being a really unfitting spot for it. If only I could remember where, exactly...oh, and feel free to check out the balcony, the door's unlocked. Though, I don't think there's much out there."
FearScope: 13/100
- Mr. Prog dirty looks magically freeze the number
Inside the master bedroom...well, it was easily the biggest room on the second floor. The first thing that would get noticed was the absolutely gigantic bed straight ahead. If no one minded sharing, an entire party could get drunk in the wine cellar, then sleep it off in that one bed. To either side was a nightstand, complete with a lamp atop it.
The second thing that would get noticed was a grand piano occupying the far left corner of the room. Not a speck of dust existed on it, which was probably a testament to how clean Mr. Prog kept the place. Sadly, there was no music sheet or anything on it, so unless the detective Navi knew any songs from memory, she wouldn't be able to play it.
To the left of the doorway was a large desk. It had its own lamp and writing supplies, but there weren't any papers or anything. Whether that was the previous owner's design, or the Prog's, was probably a mystery in itself. And to the right, a massive armoire, with who knew how many drawers to either side. She could probably count them, but that'd take a minute in itself.
Also notable was the right wall...or lack thereof. Most of it was a giant window, giving a rather scenic view of the surrounding area...as well as of the balcony outside. Accessing it would be easy enough; just use the door in the far corner.
Unlike most of the rooms, the master bedroom's decorating extended to the floor, with a couple of rugs occupying select spots. They didn't look super expensive, but they did seem to be well made.
"Here we are...the late master's room. The piano's mostly for show, he had the musical talent of a Tuby. Though, I must say, it does give the room a dignified air to it. The ghost was...oh, I forget the name. It's round and has one eye. Anyway, I remember it being a really unfitting spot for it. If only I could remember where, exactly...oh, and feel free to check out the balcony, the door's unlocked. Though, I don't think there's much out there."
FearScope: 13/100
- Mr. Prog dirty looks magically freeze the number
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"Oh, you sulky little fellow!" Sleuth sighed, throwing her hands up in exasperation at Mr. Prog's justified outrage. "If the manservant interferes in the detective's investigation, it's a classic plot twist, but if she interferes in his work, oh no, she's an insufferable nuisance! Truly, it's an unjust world for a woman like myself." As usual, Sleuth displayed her habit for pressing a joke for a good while after it had stopped being funny, as though that only made it all the funnier to her. "But both of our jobs hinge upon the investigation of the next room, so let us put such minor occupational concerns behind ourselves," she bid Mr. Prog, as the two continued into the next room. "Oh? Such a large bed for the master alone? Tell me, did your master-"
Before Sleuth could ask her entirely inappropriate question, she found herself struck uncharacteristically speechless. There, in the corner, in the final room of the mansion... a piano, the one possibility of projecting music that she'd excluded earlier, thinking that she couldn't possibly have such luck. "THEEEEERE! THE PIANO!" she cried out, scampering over to it and spreading her arms, as if she planned to hug it. Instead, she clasped both gloved hands onto it, shaking with emotion as she inspected the classical instrument. "Piano... Piano! PIANOOOOO!" she roared, looking first to Jocelyn with a wild expression of joy, then to Mr. Prog. Both of their expressions were probably about the same: a standard, vacant smile that showed they had no idea why she was suddenly going bonkers over a piano. "Don't you see?! This is what we need! With this, we can finally input the meanings of these clues! It really was the solfege all along!"
"But none of the clues we've received so far are pieces of the solfege..." Jocelyn murmured.
"Ah, but my dear girl, they are! For instance... Deer is 'Do!' Beam is 'Re!' Teeth is... I-I'm not sure... Possibly 'Ti,' by simple phonics. U2U means 'you to you', or should I say, 'Mi'... Very is 'So!' The color splotches... 'Ti!' Because of earl gray and green, both well known classifications amongst tea-lovers such as myself! Father of a baby, fifty percent, could well be either either half of the word 'sire,' depending on what language the master chose to use... Not quite Far could mean 'Fa.' The, Whazzapian, is likely 'La,' for reasons I described earlier," she concluded. "So, if I diagram them out... " Here, she brought up a viewscreen so that the others could read along with her...
She paused here, tensing her eyebrows; her lips quivered with the difficulty of her concentration. "But... I've found nine clues. That's more clues than the solfege has notes! My goodness..." she sighed deeply, her chest distractingly falling in slow motion with the exhalation of air. "We will simply have to keep searching. Perhaps the last answers we need sit waiting for us in this very room! There are two important pieces we're missing before we can solve this puzzle... The first, obviously, is the arrangement that the notes must be played in. I'm a champion pianist myself, so you needn't worry however in key they must be played. However, without knowing the proper order, we could sit here all day inputting keys and not find the right arrangement; such is the tricky nature of exponentially unfolding possibilities. The other key we are missing is the assurance that we have done an exhaustive search of the clues that lay waiting in each room, which, perhaps, we have not... If we haven't, then we may end up backtracking for those we missed. If it takes much longer, I could end up spending the night, Mr. Prog," she chuckled. Still, she didn't find herself tired out; rather, she was excited to have made so much headway on the enigmatic puzzle.
"I have another suggestion of a mystery that ought to be solved," Jocelyn proposed, looking proud of herself with a big smile.
"Oh? And what is that?"
"Where the ghost is hiding in this room!"
"Do you have any suggestions?"
"... No."
Sleuth laughed again, then shook her head. "Such a trivial matter! I'd almost forgotten the ghost entirely, myself. Now, when I think of a round virus with a single eye, I think either KillerEye or Twin. Perhaps the old noodle is a little too caught up in our current adventure, but the most ready observation I'd make is that the bed that occupies so much of the room is not, in fact, a twin-sized. In fact, it must be something larger than a king size! With that being the case, if a Twin virus was occupying it, I would classify that as most unfitting," she reasoned. "So, Mr. Prog, why don't you begin with the desk, you being the appointed Desk-Searcher General for the night, and I will give the piano a once-over, while I'm already seated here."
Sleuth proceeded to just as she'd said, although she hardly figured it would make sense for another clue or goodie to be hidden upon the instrument which would likely serve as the central prop in the entire mystery itself.
((Clues: Deer. Beam. Teeth. U2U. Very. Green and gray splotches. Father of a baby (50%). Not quite Far. The, Whazzapian.))
Before Sleuth could ask her entirely inappropriate question, she found herself struck uncharacteristically speechless. There, in the corner, in the final room of the mansion... a piano, the one possibility of projecting music that she'd excluded earlier, thinking that she couldn't possibly have such luck. "THEEEEERE! THE PIANO!" she cried out, scampering over to it and spreading her arms, as if she planned to hug it. Instead, she clasped both gloved hands onto it, shaking with emotion as she inspected the classical instrument. "Piano... Piano! PIANOOOOO!" she roared, looking first to Jocelyn with a wild expression of joy, then to Mr. Prog. Both of their expressions were probably about the same: a standard, vacant smile that showed they had no idea why she was suddenly going bonkers over a piano. "Don't you see?! This is what we need! With this, we can finally input the meanings of these clues! It really was the solfege all along!"
"But none of the clues we've received so far are pieces of the solfege..." Jocelyn murmured.
"Ah, but my dear girl, they are! For instance... Deer is 'Do!' Beam is 'Re!' Teeth is... I-I'm not sure... Possibly 'Ti,' by simple phonics. U2U means 'you to you', or should I say, 'Mi'... Very is 'So!' The color splotches... 'Ti!' Because of earl gray and green, both well known classifications amongst tea-lovers such as myself! Father of a baby, fifty percent, could well be either either half of the word 'sire,' depending on what language the master chose to use... Not quite Far could mean 'Fa.' The, Whazzapian, is likely 'La,' for reasons I described earlier," she concluded. "So, if I diagram them out... " Here, she brought up a viewscreen so that the others could read along with her...
Quote ()
Do = Deer
Re = Beam
Mi = U2U
Fa = Not quite Far
So = Very
La = The, Whazzapian
Ti = Color splotches of green and gray
Teeth? Father of a baby, 50% = Re?
She paused here, tensing her eyebrows; her lips quivered with the difficulty of her concentration. "But... I've found nine clues. That's more clues than the solfege has notes! My goodness..." she sighed deeply, her chest distractingly falling in slow motion with the exhalation of air. "We will simply have to keep searching. Perhaps the last answers we need sit waiting for us in this very room! There are two important pieces we're missing before we can solve this puzzle... The first, obviously, is the arrangement that the notes must be played in. I'm a champion pianist myself, so you needn't worry however in key they must be played. However, without knowing the proper order, we could sit here all day inputting keys and not find the right arrangement; such is the tricky nature of exponentially unfolding possibilities. The other key we are missing is the assurance that we have done an exhaustive search of the clues that lay waiting in each room, which, perhaps, we have not... If we haven't, then we may end up backtracking for those we missed. If it takes much longer, I could end up spending the night, Mr. Prog," she chuckled. Still, she didn't find herself tired out; rather, she was excited to have made so much headway on the enigmatic puzzle.
"I have another suggestion of a mystery that ought to be solved," Jocelyn proposed, looking proud of herself with a big smile.
"Oh? And what is that?"
"Where the ghost is hiding in this room!"
"Do you have any suggestions?"
"... No."
Sleuth laughed again, then shook her head. "Such a trivial matter! I'd almost forgotten the ghost entirely, myself. Now, when I think of a round virus with a single eye, I think either KillerEye or Twin. Perhaps the old noodle is a little too caught up in our current adventure, but the most ready observation I'd make is that the bed that occupies so much of the room is not, in fact, a twin-sized. In fact, it must be something larger than a king size! With that being the case, if a Twin virus was occupying it, I would classify that as most unfitting," she reasoned. "So, Mr. Prog, why don't you begin with the desk, you being the appointed Desk-Searcher General for the night, and I will give the piano a once-over, while I'm already seated here."
Sleuth proceeded to just as she'd said, although she hardly figured it would make sense for another clue or goodie to be hidden upon the instrument which would likely serve as the central prop in the entire mystery itself.
((Clues: Deer. Beam. Teeth. U2U. Very. Green and gray splotches. Father of a baby (50%). Not quite Far. The, Whazzapian.))