A request for fashion advice, just beyond the beginning of a major ball. A guest of honor who has failed to make their scheduled arrival. A pen pal from Yukisearth offering apologies for his lack of contact since making the journey to Thellamie, owing to a hectic schedule and lack of available free time.

...No, this is not a difficult deduction at all. Rather, it is the sort of puzzle fragment one might offer to a small child to get them interest in the concept of solving mysteries. In fact calling it 'child's play' would be an insult to the games Eclair and Mayzie played [i]as[/i] children. A more appropriate comparison then might be a hook dangled with unsecured bait to attempt to entice a particularly depressed fish. Just a nibble, River Queen, and then maybe you will remember the thrill of the chase and the game. Eat and grow strong so you can become a worthy rival once more.

The temptation to ghost is overwhelming.

And........

Yet.

Here she is, clinging to the outside wall of the building, shaping a lockpick out of Light. Curious that magically locked objects should be so much less secure than mundane fastenings, but so it goes. No need to steal a key when the lock for everything fastened in this manner gave way to the same password. It is as though the wizards of the world never bothered to conceive that a powerful or pure soul might think to use that purity to force entry somewhere. Or perhaps they had considered it all too well, and this was actually...

[i]Click.[/i]

The Hero of Vespergift lets out a silent sigh from between her black painted lips and slides inside the frame. The window closes behind her without a sound. In front of her an antlered figure awash in Starlight sways nervously to and fro with his eyes focused on an impossible rack of clothing and his foot twisting into the carpet in such a way as to suggest a mind drifting every which way [i]but[/i] fashion. She smiles, if only slightly, and aligns her tablet to capture her own face (ever-so-briefly sans mask), two fingers raised in a "V" gesture, and the back of the Golden Faun's head.

This image is the reply that .eclairespoirviolet sends to @cinnamondrumroll. She smirks when she hears the pinging of the tablet in the room. There are moments left to her to rearrange her mask while she waits for recognition to dawn, and to position herself behind him as recognition turns to understanding.

Before he can yelp, before he can call by accident or fright whatever guardians and attendants may be waiting outside, she loops an arm around his neck and presses a single velvet gloved finger to his lips. 'Shhhhhh'. 

"You must not speak my name," she whispers, "It would not do for you to imply familiarity with a wanted criminal."

She spins him around, steps back, and curtsies (using the tails of her coat in place of a skirt). 

"I apologize for not giving warning; this seemed overall the fastest method. You are having difficulty getting dressed? Then tell me what the problem is. I will help as my meager skills allow."

A single tiny smile steals its way across her face, here and gone in an instant. The only thing that makes it beautiful is the lack of any other emotion or tangle of thoughts to weigh it down.

"I am pleased to finally make your acquaintance, Master Hazel Valentine Fletcher. For the time being you may call me the Mystery Builder. I can spare..."

She pulls a watch out of her pocket and frowns. She replaces it and pulls a pen and a small notebook in its stead.

"Ten minutes of our mutual time. Perhaps fifteen if I knew what this was about. What is a 'Golden Faun' exactly, and why is it important?"