Mystic Mansion

Listening to what Sleuth had to say to the Mr. Prog, Mata's face frowned and stuck her tongue out in disgust. "...A soup with flies, few or many or completely free of flies, is still a soup that had flies in it. Yuuuk." The spy seemed very particular about the bugs, even if it was just a example, and shuddered with both hands clamping around her own arms. "The greatest spy in the net: Mata, fearless in her missions, relentless against her foes, and can't stand flies whatsoever! She does it all, folks!" Oliver laughed as he flailed his arm up like a silly 5 year old, finding time to poke fun at his own navi without fault.

As the navi's brown cheeks blushed slightly, she turned silent as she made her way to the end of the room as soon as she finished searching her side of the coat hangers. But as it happened, Sleuth was there first and already seemed set on checking the coats herself. "You sure you want to do this alone? I mean, not to be cocky or anything, but you got licked because you insisted on doing this alone and ignoring wha- H-Hey!!" Just like how Mata ignored the underwear color, it seemed like Sleuth chose to ignore the spy's suggestions and flapped through the last coat hanger without warning.

Taken by surprise, Mata instinctively raised both her hands up as if she was ready to fight something, but she seemed to be more on the edge compare to the big, burly, half naked navis she had to confront before. "Y-You idiot! Let me prepare myself first!!"

"Knock yourself out, but I'm pretty sure that any soup with flies in it is just thrown out for more soup..." The Mr. Prog remained at the entrance, looking slightly uneasy about continuing the search, but did nothing to stop the Navis as they continued. Sleuth proceeded to check out the rack, and found...precisely nothing. "Find anything? ...Guess not."

All in all, an extremely unproductive moment.

FearScope
===========
Sleuth: 0/100
Mata: 0/100

0 - Feeling awesome

"So you'd rather we search the house with a bulldozer then?" Sleuth joked, trying to make light of how ridiculously disappointing the results of her actions had been. She would not have been surprised if her FearScope began to go hot just from the amount of negative energy that must be coming off of her. "Well, Miss Mata, I am quite done with this room. Over it, as they say. Any ghost that wishes to inhabit such a despicably boring room may keep it!" she huffed, squeezing back out past the other two. In the back of her mind, she questioned why the Mr. Prog had looked uneasy just then... was he upset at her breach of decorum, or perhaps scared of a ghost popping out? Or maybe there was some other far more interesting reason? She wanted to know more, but not at the cost of researching a room that had already been scoped out to her satisfaction. If there was more to learn, she'd have to figure it out as she went along. Thus frustrated, she went back to analyzing the clues. "Teeth... deer... perhaps it has something to do with words featuring double Es? Or perhaps even the "ee" sound itself. Perhaps, somewhere in this mansion, lies a key!"

"Or a piece of paper with 'key' written upon it!" Jocelyn added, continuing the trend.

"... Yes, but I would hope this evolves into more than pieces of paper eventually. I don't believe a torn apart dictionary is worth searching the house for," she murmured. In her mind, putting together this puzzle was becoming more important than finding the ghosts, possibly just because the meaning was so elusive, yet the clues begged to be pondered. "Well, we'll know more when we've gathered more. For now, dear Jocelyn, I must rally Miss Mata and venture on. And I choose... the dining room!"

"Oh? Why that one?" her operator inquired.

"Well, primarily because it's directly next to the coat room," Sleuth chuckled, sticking her hand through the vanishing lens of her staff and giving it a little twirl. "Does that suit you fine, Miss Mata?" she checked, although her hand was already on the door to go in.

"..."

Standing silently as she stared at the blue coats swaying side to side, Mata slowly lowered her hands to find that there was nothing to find. "...That was uncalled for." The spy whispered to herself, shaking her head in disappointment. "All those unnecessary build ups for nothing, these ghosts suck at their job..." As Mata mumbled and grumbled, she made her way to the door, but Sleuth was already standing and ready right next to it. "Dining room?...Yea, sure...Hmmph."

Mata looked down at the two umbrella stand by the door, but before she thought twice, simply kicked one of the stand in frustration!

"Dining room, eh? All right, follow-wait, don't!" The Mr. Prog saw what Mata was trying to do, but was too late, and she kicked an umbrella stand over. Classy. And still no ghosts. One had to wonder if the room even had a ghost..."...I suppose I'll clean that up later..." The spy Navi could almost feel the program giving her the evil eye, before floating over to the next room.

The dining room mainly consisted of a stereotypical super long table, with many chairs next to it. There was six chairs on each side, and one more at the far end from where they were. Up above the middle of the table was a simplistic chandelier, made entirely of shimmering crystal. Candles adorned the walls, and combined with the chandelier, made the room extremely bright for something without modern lighting. In a corner away from the Navis, but still on their side of the room, was a large cabinet, showing off fancy china and silverware.

Oh, and for some reason, there was a rather large, delicious looking turkey at their end of the table. It didn't look out of place, per se, but it was certainly noticable on the otherwise barren table. "Oh, don't mind the turkey, I just use it for practicing serving heavy things. It's probably months old, but since food doesn't have to spoil in Cyberworld, it's like it came straight from the oven! I suppose it'd be rude of me to leave it there and not allow you a taste, so if you wish to pick at it, by all means."

"Oh, right, the ghost. Hmm...the last time I saw it, I believe I saw something shimmer right before finding it. ...That's odd, I can't think of what the ghost was. Oh well. Oh, and the other door leads to the kitchen. Just in case you were wondering." And with that, the room was ripe for the picking.



FearScope
===========
Sleuth: 0/100
Mata: 0/100

0 - Feeling awesome

"Dohoho! Now, now, don't be upset Mata. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. And I do so appreciate your bold and curious endeavor!" Sleuth encouraged her ally, although she was laughing the whole time. She took in the sights of the dining room quickly and began formulating a plan, even as the prog was speaking. "Something shining, hm? That could be the chandelier, but you would think our good friend here would remember if he had been cleaning that particular article when he saw it... so inconvenient an article it is to.clean. My hunch, then, is the silverware. Therefore!" she paused dramatically, before tapping Mata gently on the fanny with her cane. "You go and check out the dining assortment while I investigate that turkey."

"Why the turkey? Is it shining?" Sleuth's operator inquired, trying to connect the dots.

"Ah, well, I'm looking for another type of clue! Not visual aspects, but those satisfying other senses~" she chuckled, powerwalking to make sure Mata didn't beat her there. "A good detective will examine every clue thoroughly!"

"Oh! So you're going to taste every clue from now on?"

"... Let's not get carried away. I have no desire to try to eat the late master's coat collection. I am a detective, not a moth! On the other hand, his roast turkey looks quite edible," she chuckled, rubbing her hands together eagerly after setting her cane down on the table. Forming a fist, she would wrap one hand around the turkey's right leg and attempt to tear it free. Once that was accomplished, she would first make sure that it wasn't dusty after all. If it was clean, she would briefly contemplate why some objects would become dusty and others wouldn't, then eat it. If it was caked in dust or otherwise inedible looking, however,she would be content to simply inspect it visually.

"Are you...serious?"

Mata stared at Sleuth as she began to tear through the turkey, ready for consumption, but...Even though food isn't programmed to rot or go bad, a month long turkey was still a month long turkey. "You have fun with that, I'm good with not eating anything here...Ever." Sticking her tongue out in disgust, Mata took a quick look at the long table that stretched through the room. "Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Now bend down like some french maid and look it up!" Oliver laughed. "You know, a french maid costume would be better than this horrid leather suit you gave me!"

After taking a big breath in, she bent down to investigate underneath the table.

An investigation of the turkey would not be truly thorough without taking a bite, and luckily for Sleuth, it really did look like it was fresh out of a hot, non-dusty oven. So, off with its leg, and down the hatch...mmm, nice and juicy, not dry at all. She barely even needed to bite and chew, as the meat practically fell right into her mouth. Delicious! That's about all she learned from it, though...but it was surely of vital importance that the turkey was in fact expertly cooked.

While that happened, Mata bent over like a champ, and took a look under the table. Unfortunately, there was only air. Lots of air. And that wasn't unusual at all. Or was it? ...Nah.

Despite being able to get a good look at the spy's behind, the Mr. Prog appeared more interested in the detective unparalleled nose for...let's go with clues. "So, how's the turkey? I've been working on perfecting the art of turkey cooking lately, so with any luck it should be about perfect now."

FearScope
===========
Sleuth: 0/100
Mata: 0/100

0 - Feeling awesome

Mata stared at the table for a moment longer before she stood back up, only to take a peek once more. "Are you sure there's a ghost in this room?" said the navi as she checked the third time. Except for their first encounter, the ghost searching has been fruitless. The spy sighed and turned towards Sleuth, who seemed to be enjoying the not-so-spoiled turkey. "Oh lord, you were serious about eating that."

The spy searched the room once more and the chandelier caught her attention. Unless Mata and Sleuth decided to overturn every chair and candles in this room and ignore the rest of the mansion, the chandelier or the cabinet on the side were the only viable choice. "I'll take this one." With a simple hop, she stood ontop of the table and tippie-toed to at least touch the tip of the chandelier...But before she did so, she stopped and looked down at the Mr. Prog.

"...I should've asked you before I dirtied your table...My bad." Mata shrugged and proceeded to search the chandelier.

"A French Maid? I'd like to see it~" Sleuth giggled wistfully, watching Mata's upturned butt as she savored her turkey. What an ideal scene: a mystery, a cute partner to pick on, and good food. If only life could always be so grand. "It's quite a treat, little sirrah. I must say, I don't get a lot of chances to consume a tasty snack in my line of work, as I'm sure few navis do. This makes me wish that perhaps I'd chosen a life investigating the wonders of gourmet rather than the world of mysteries! Gourmand, that's what they'd call me. But no, as good as the turkey may be, I will sink my teeth into a good mystery faster still."

Of course, Sleuth's mind was also on the mystery, as usual. A contradiction presented itself in Mr. Prog's story: he had said earlier that the turkey on the table was "probably months old," and yet, just now, he'd implied that the turkey she was eating ought to hopefully be a testament to his recent efforts, hadn't he? Probably nothing; a simple conversational blunder. Her operator spoke up, interrupting her train of thought.

"So you wish he'd cooked you a mystery instead?" Jocelyn inquired, thinking to herself that she, personally, would take the turkey.

"Now now; he has provided me a good mystery, has he not? The food is a bonus," Sleuth chuckled. She'd eaten so quickly that the drumstick she'd pulled off had been sucked clean before anyone got to see how she'd done it. "You'd be surprised how many tricks I know using this big mouth of mine! But that's a mystery for another day~" she sighed, looking pleased with herself. Mata got her attention again, announcing that she planned to go for the chandelier. A big grin spread across the detective's face again. "Are you sure you can reach that? I'd be more than happy to take it while you check the silverware that I initially asked you to. Oh, my defiant little helper..."

"Maybe you can help her reach?" her operator offered, as if there'd be nothing silly about Sleuth picking up Mata and helping her reach the chandelier.

"Of course! Mata's up on the table now; if I slip a few pieces of paper money into the zipper of her catsuit, that will probably motivate her!" Sleuth exclaimed, pressing one fist into her palm as if she had determined to act upon her ridiculous fancy... and then spread both hands to her sides, cackling. "Only joking! You finish up there, my good chum, and I shall finger through the salad forks."

With that, Sleuth exercised the nimble movements of her gloved, thin fingers to search somebody else's silverware like a common thief. "I must be careful that I don't mix up my dinner ghost with my salad ghost," she joked, trying to entertain herself.

The Mr. Prog didn't say anything, but did stare half-blankly, half-intently at the bone Sleuth was now holding. Odds were he was trying to figure out how the Navi ate that quickly. Luckily, he didn't have a whole lot of time to ponder that mystery, as Mata hopped up on the table. "...Yeah, I could've gotten a ladder for you if you'd asked...oh well, I'll just clean it later, I guess." To add insult to injury, there was absolutely nothing inside the chandelier, aside from chandelier.

Meanwhile, Sleuth got to searching the silverware. Let's see...nada, nada, na-whoops, nearly knocked off a plate. Wait, there was something under that one...

Sleuth GET: PanelGrab BattleChip

"Ah yes, I actually did know about that particular chip, since I've done serving practice lately. I thought it'd shame for the former master to point it out without either of you looking, though."

Mata was pretty much ready to give up on the chandelier at this point...but wait! What was that wedged between two crystals...? Aha, the room's clue! A scrap of paper that read 'BEAM'. Exciting stuff.

FearScope
===========
Sleuth: 0/100
Mata: 0/100

"Oh ho! A battlechip. Finders keepers, as they say," Sleuth muttered with a satisfied nod, then sent the chip data over to Jocelyn. "So... there's an interesting tidbit! Your master was fond of mysteries? Or perhaps simply hiding things? I suppose these hidden papers we've been happening upon do a lot to reinforce that theory. Regardless, I must weep for the loss of a fellow enthusiast of puzzles, no matter the exact scope of his interest. Or perhaps I musn't weep! For he has found the perfect navi to solve his puzzle!"

"And clean out the ghosts in his house, right?" Jocelyn added.

"... Right, I'd almost forgotten. The ghosts aren't exactly making themselves easy to remember, considering we've been ghostless for two rooms now... But ah, that's right! Let's ponder our new clue. We now have Teeth, Deer, and Beam. The obvious connector is the single syllable and 'ee' sound... but connect three points is work for a fool, a child, or a student practicing his trigonometry! We are none of these. No, we must find more clues before we draw our conclusion," she announced, raising one finger to the air. "I can't wait... I'm quite excited!"

Jocelyn yawned, demonstrating a reaction to counter Sleuth's enthusiasm. But then, she wasn't displeased either. No, she was just carefree enough to yawn when the mood hit her.

"Good work finding another clue, Mata. Now er... hm... that was all of the 'shimmering' things I can think of in this room. Unless, perhaps, he meant the shimmer of light from the candles? But searching every candle will take quite some time... And I vote we skip beneath the chairs entirely, because I highly, highly doubt the ghost is waiting, stuck to its base like some sort of ectoplasm-flavored chewing gum," Sleuth surmised. "I suppose it could be... a door knob? But that's not much of a hiding place. Perhaps in a keyhole? What a darling ghost that would be, hiding in the keyhole and waiting to surprise us as we gave up and went to search the next room! So clever!"

"Is that where you'd hide if you were a ghost?" Jocelyn inquired.

"No, I believe I'd pick the turkey. At least I'd have a snack while I wait for visitors to find me," the navi chortled. "Well, we're not really doing our job if we keep leaving ghosts. So I suppose we must continue searching. Mata, check the candles, if you will. I will inspect the doorknobs for any size of ghostly-do," she finished, going over to the kitchen door knob and peering close to it with the magnifying glass head of her cane. If that brought up nothing, she'd turn tail and investigate the one on the other side... unlikely though it may be, it would be entertaining if the ghost was waiting there, anticipating their exit back the way they came so that he could jump out and spook them. Well, it wouldn't be entertaining at the time, but it would be funny in hindsight.

"Well-" The Mr. Prog apparently had something to say, but before he could actually say it, a strange red flash shone throughout the room, the source of which was basically impossible to locate. Either way, once the light was gone, and everyone started looking around, one of the effects was clear: the group of three was down to two, as Mata had mysteriously vanished. "Wha...? What in the cyberworld was that? Er, where did your friend go? I don't see her anywhere...wait a sec...I can detect a faint data signature...hmm, if I'm not mistaken, she underwent an emergency jack out. But why? Was it because of that strange light...? Oh well, she can always return when she wants..."

A sudden movement drew the program's attention, and well...a translucent HauntedCandle was on the ground, thrown for a loop presumably as a result due to the light. It even had spirals for eyes for a moment, before shaking out of it, and realizing that there were two living souls looking at it now. It tried to act menacing, but it just wasn't going to cut it after they saw it like that. Realizing this, it sighed and vanished, without so much as a small eek. "I guess the ghosts weren't immune to the light, either. Though, that begs the question...why weren't you or I affected? Well, aside from being freaked out a little, but that's only natural." If Sleuth checked her FearScope, she'd see that she was registering on it now, if only because the light came out of nowhere. "Anyway, without the ghost, that's everything in this room, I believe. While your partner's gone, I shall assist in your searching. Just tell me where to look, and I shall do so. Of course, if I find something, it'll be yours. I certainly have no need of the random things scattered about."

"But, since you're the only Navi here, I can't help but think you might be a little more easily frightened by things...I might be wrong, though. So, shall we move on?" The Mr. Prog floated in place, awaiting Sleuth's undoubtedly sage instructions.


FearScope
===========
Sleuth: 10/100
Mata: N/A, mysteriously EJO'd

10 - A bit startled by the red light, but nothing too bad

Sleuth's good mood was immediately soured as her partner was taken away by some mysterious source of light, as unexplainable as it was aggravating. To compound matters, Jocelyn had gotten a seemingly unrelated call out to the spot of a petty crime, which meant that Oliver wouldn't be able to try to hook Mata back in. "Ludicrous! All good things must come to an end, they say, but that ending was rather abrupt for my tastes!" Sleuth complained, annoyed by her operator but knowing that scolding would do no good. "What a mean world we live in, if all good things must go so quickly! Well, at least I still have the mystery to solve..." But she did feel out of sorts, having grown so used to having a companion only to lose her to supernatural phenomenon.

... Well, technically, she still had one companion. "I'm glad that you've managed to stay with me, sirrah. For without a guide in such a place, I would be lost, but more importantly, lonely! And then I might have to become a ghost myself just to seek out companionship" Sleuth joked, leaning on her cane a she observed the room. Besides the lack of either Mata or the ghost she'd spotted a moment ago, it was the same as before. "Fear not for my nerves, even if my sanity seems in question! Let us press forward in her memory. Onward to the kitchen! Perhaps I will spot a beverage to wash down that little snack with, moist and tender though it was~"

Really she was just hoping the kitchen would be full of ghosts, or maybe have a bloody cadaver shoved into the fridge or something. Being scared out of her wits would be a nice distraction at the moment. "You make regular use of the kitchen, I take it? So perhaps you can remember some details of where a ghost might be waiting? I'm sure any number of pots, pans, cupboards, and plasticware containers may be hiding ghoulies in here."

((Enter kitchen))

"I'd rather you not become a ghost, yourself. I mean, this place has enough as is, if you ask me..." And with that, the two entered the kitchen. It had all the kitchen essentials: a sink, a countertop, an oven/microwave...wait, an oven/microwave? "Ah, the heating device in this kitchen is a bit special. It can function as either an oven or a microwave with the press of a button. Of course, such a thing doesn't exist in the real world, but here in Cyberworld, it's easy to replicate! It makes cooking a breeze, really."

As for the room itself, to Sleuth's left were two large cabinet sets, presumably for cabinet-y purposes. Between them was a door. In front of her, another door, with a refrigerator to its left, and a sink to its right. To her right, some stove eyes, the aforementioned oven/microwave, a countertop for preparation, and...stairs? Fortunately, the mansion practiced a safety first policy, and the downward leading stairs had railings to prevent anyone from falling into them.

Oh, and in the middle, a large island, presumably for additional preparations, or for small get-togethers. "Let's see...this nearer set of cabinets is where all the dishes and utensils are kept. The one farther away serves as a pantry of sorts. You'd think this place woul have its own pantry, but nope...everything else is pretty self-explanatory. The door to the left leads back to the foyer, and the one in front leads to the library...the former master liked to fix up snacks for when he was reading, hence why they're connected. And the stairs lead to the wine cellar. He didn't drink himself, but always kept some of the stuff down there in case guests wanted any. That should cover everything about the layout...as for the virus, I know it was a Shadow. But where was it...I remember something about it not being room temperature when I ran into it. But I don't recall if it was warm or cold...sorry, I know that'd help you a lot..."



FearScope: 9/100

9 - Still a bit startled by the red light, but starting to recover

"Yes, I'm rather fond of my body and furthermore, would be quite the nuisance as a ghost, I imagine. So it's probably best for everyone if I don't become a ghost," the detective chatted idly, before shutting up to listen to all of the details of the kitchen as the Prog spelled things out. "I see! My, if I were a ghost, I would probably haunt such a place myself. Spending time in the kitchen isn't like me, really, but as a ghost, I couldn't be asked to cook much of anything. So I might rather like it," she rambled, walking around slowly with her cane tapping the floor in regular, sleepy intervals.

"Hot or cold, you say? Well then, I wonder if the ghastly freeloader likes to curl up inside a box regardless of the temperature or if he's seeking out that environment specifically? The former is boring, so I shall hypothesize the latter. That being the case, a thorough inspection of the refrigerator will be much easier than the oven or stove... so you take the refrigerator whilst I venture to the hotter elements," Sleuth offered, giving no explanation. "I will start with the oven. After all, they say people tend to microwave most of their food these days... I would say it is statistically more likely you encountered the spectre whilst 'nuking' some corn or mashed," she chuckled.

She went to the inconspicuous microwave/oven and first opened it, peering slowly inside. She felt around here and there with her leather-gloves... she had a feeling that the prog would keep it in good condition, but some people did have microwaves with insides worthy of hand protection due to lack of cleaning. Once she'd given a good grope in there, she closed the oven door and attempted to start it up got some random length of time. "Maybe this will smoke him out!" she exclaimed, watching closely as if expecting him to jump out like a cartoon character, yowling and on fire after picking an unfortunate hiding spot.

"Whilst we wait, I just realized that I know precious little about your master, besides the behavioral tidbits you've explained from time to time. Perhaps you would care to speak of him in broader terms? Who was the owner and what was his occupation? If you are at liberty to tell... Don't tell me he was some wealthy playboy turned masked vigilante!" Sleuth inquired, although her expression of excitement clearly indicated that she hoped her wild imagination was on the money.

The Mr. Prog hesitated for a second, but shook his head and "I guess statistically, odds are one of us is about to get spooked, so be on alert, okay?" No sooner was this said, both of them opened up their respective appliance...only for Mr. Prog to be impaled through the face with a sword! ...Well, sort of. There was a sword, and it was going through his face, but he looked entirely unharmed. Still, the sheer surprise caused him to let out a scream, which made it hard for Sleuth to not be slightly freaked out. The sword then disappeared without a trace..."I-I'm pretty sure that was it...but even though I expected an attack, I wasn't really expecting to get stabbed in the head..."

On the bright side, this meant that the detective Navi could search her spot without fear. And sure enough, way in the back, was a small, heatproof packet. And inside, a scrap of paper! That was fast...and on it was 'U2U'. ...Wait, what?

"Did you find anything?" The Mr. Prog turned Sleuth's way, hoping she had much better luck than he did.

FearScope: 15/100
- Startled a bit by Mr. Prog's scream, but not too much

Sleuth turned and raised one finger, opening her mouth to respond to the Mr. Prog, only to find that he'd already been skewered by a Shadow virus. "Oh dear," she managed, moving her hand to her chin and stepping forward. "I'll get that for you, although this certainly begs the question of whether I ought to leave it in or pull it out. I'm not sure how that one works, in regards to navis and other denizens of the net, since most of us don't bleed, precisely," she spoke at length. Thankfully, it turned out the Mr. Prog wasn't really in any danger. "Hm, isn't it actually a little surprising? You'd think if these were viruses they'd be a little more malevolent and put greater effort into injuring us. Then again, perhaps they want to injure us but the ghostly state has rendered them unable to do so. Ah, well, it's good to see you're unharmed."

In her momentary state of concern, she'd forgotten about the neat packet she'd obtained from the back of the microwave. After remembering it, her eyes began to shine. She held the packet in her mouth and unwrapped it quickly with both hands, holding her cane temporarily between her knees. "I'd forgotten I found this!" she spoke through her teeth. "Ah, let's see... another clue! It says... 'U2U.' What a curious thing! It doesn't fit with the phonetic trend of the other clues at all! Furthermore, it's not even a word... What could that possible be? I've heard of P2P, but..." she mused, grabbing her cane and leaning both hands on it as she stared hard at the ground.

"Perhaps we'll find all four in a room together? Then the mystery would be solved," Jocelyn offered, as she continued her slow roll towards the scene of the crime. "Let's see... a beam of light illuminates the teeth of a stuffed and mounted deer... inside his mouth is... a U2U! And inside that is your reward."

"But what is a...? Nevermind. Perhaps I'll know when I see it. Regardless, let's assemble all of the clues, then put them together. That's the best way to do this!" she reaffirmed, smiling and walking confidently on pass Mr. Prog, spinning her cane. Halfway across the kitchen, she stopped, seeming to shudder. "But it's so hard to stop trying to put the puzzle together! Aaaah!" she whined, dropping her magnifying glass again and scratching her fingers into her cap feverishly. "Patience, Sleuth, patience! There will be more clues! I will treat this case like a fine wine... watching thirstily until it reaches its peak flavor. Once it does, I will pop the cork and drink it in!"

"So you think the reward is wine? Then I bet it's in the wine cellar! I think Mr. Prog said it was down that small staircase there," Jocelyn noted, trying to be helpful.

"... Well, the wine cellar was the next stop I'd planned, although I hardly suspect to find the mystery's conclusion in such a place," Sleuth sighed. "Come, Sirrah!" she spoke to her remaining companion, spinning on her heels and beckoning dramatically; she struck a dramatic pose without even thinking about it. "I believe we've found what we need from this room and we still have much of this mansion to cover."

With that, Sleuth left the kitchen, bound for the wine cellar.

"That, I'm not going to argue with..." The Mr. Prog nodded at Sleuth's comment that there was still much to do, and followed her down into the wine cellar...

...Which, well, was an underground area with six large shelves with various barrels and bottles inside. Each one was clearly labeled with a number, 1-6. Very wine cellar-y. "It's not exactly the fanciest part of the mansion, but it serves its purpose. I think this room's pretty self-explanatory, so let's go ahead and search." Six shelves, one of which had the clue, one of which had a mysterious virus ghost, and who knew what adventures were in the other four? But, why did the Prog not mention the ghost? "Oh, the ghost...actually, I haven't been down here since they showed up, so I have absolutely no idea where this one is. We'll just have to hope for the best, I suppose..."



FearScope: 14/100

"Ah. It is... a wine cellar, isn't it? I must admit: I was expecting... er, the unexpected," Sleuth shrugged, unable to stop one corner of her mouth from turning up into an annoyed smirk. She quickly fixed her expression, however, curling her tongue out and up and rubbing her gloved hands together like a child. "Do we have anything to use as a decanter? A good detective neglects none of her senses, including taste! I believe I mentioned that earlier. But yes, the flavor of these spirits may aid in our understand the mystery surrounding the other spirits!" she exclaimed, holding out both hands and curling in her fingers, like a master being for her dog's paw. Except Mr. Prog had no paws (or hands... or arms for that matter) and she would really prefer a cup, besides.

Deciding she would rather not wait, Sleuth found the nearest wine bottle at hand on shelf 2, shortly after coming off the staircase. "I'm certain the late master of the house will forgive me if I drink from the bottle!" she reassured herself. "Ordinarily I'm a little pick ier with my drink, but today, I will trust your master's judgment. And let us not be selfish! Here, partake, my good fellow," the detective offered, grabbing another bottle from shelf 3 and passing it over... slowly and carefully, remembering that Mr. Prog had no hands. She wasn't willing to actually release it, now that she realized her predicament.

"..Do I... Do I have to tilt it in for him?" she thought out loud, starting at Mr. Prog's mostly featureless face intently.

(Grabbing a bottle from shelves two and three, getting drunk and trying to decipher how Mr. Prog can get drunk))