The OC above is your servant for the day

kafkaesque

(Revival time!)

Her grip on the broom grew tight as she made eye contact with the man before her. Although it was difficult to tell, she was becoming quite flustered by the idea of having power over Smithson for the day. Being a servant herself, the very concept of ordering someone around--let alone a member of the upper class--made her very anxious and uneasy. In addition to this, the maid had nothing against Smithson since this was literally their first time meeting. They hadn't even begun talking to one another but feelings of guilt were threatening to take over her body. 

Though barely audible, Mireille cleared her throat before speaking. "Good evening to you, sir," she greeted. "I have no recollection of what led us to the predicament we're currently in," she hoped to god she wasn't stuttering, "and by all means, I am in no position to give orders, especially towards a gentleman like you." Mireille paused for a moment, trying to come up with a request that did not sound too demanding. After a few minutes of silence, a lightbulb flashed brightly above her head. 

"...Although," She continued where she left off, her voice slightly softer than before. "I would appreciate your help in deciding which flowers should be planted in my garden." Mireille dug into one of her pockets and pulled out some small packets of seeds with images of flowers on them. "I'm torn between the magnolias, bluebells, and the poppies."

"Ah, you came! Come on in, i've got a lot of work for you!" 

The previous day, Ace had won a game of poker against Mireille's employer. By cheating of course. She half expected her opponent to renege on his bet, but was pleasently suprised to see that the demon maid had showed up at her workshop as promised. 

She led Mireille into a large room that looked like it had been hit by a bomb. Glass and metal shards were lying everywhere, some were stuck in the walls, and everything was covered in a strange, oily liquid. "I was trying out a new magic item i made, but... it didn't work. Can you clean this up? You should propably wear gloves while you do."

"When you're done, i need you to go shopping. I'll need 5 kilo of tungsten, a ruby about the size of a chery, half a litre of hydroflouric acid... I'll write you a list. Oh and those," she pointed to a pile of torn appart books, "need to be repaired, i'll give you something that can do that. And bring them back to my library when you're finished, to the right shelves of course."

"Is that too much? It's no big deal if you don't get finished, but if you do well, i'll reward you!"

Ace was still embarrassed, for her, cheating is the most fun part of any game, jet she still managed to lose to someone who was playing fair. Now she had to make up for her mistake by... collecting some ceramic shards and cleaning a silk rug? Ace wanted to argue that she could be doing something more usefull, but Queen Armantine did not look she would want to her her out. So Ace just quietly began picking up the pieces of the pot.

She reassembled the pot with the help of a glove with strange symbols woven into it, the ceramic shards fusing together without leaving any cracks. Once she was finished, she held her hand over the rug and it started moving in an unnatural way, All the dirt started gathering in one spot and Ace produced an adamantium trowel and put the dirt back into the pot. When she was finished, the rug looked pristine and the pot was back in it's place. 

"Do you need anything else?" Ace asked and, remembering that she was talking to royalty, added "You're majesty."

It was too easy to get drunk on power, as Rochester stared at the monarch before and... Honestly tried not to lose her shit from laughing so hard. A literal ruler, reduced to the mere status of a servant through the binding words of a contract!? It made her grin as some weird form of schadenfreude, before she shook her head and regarded her "charge" with her usual stoic, somewhat contemptuous gaze.

"I would pity you if you did not look like you were about to rip my face off," sighed the elder while biting down on her lip, if only so she could try stifling the laughter she was holding in, "I like cats, though. Try not to make me change my mind." Laughing at her own joke, Rochester stepped aside if only so she could let the felid centaur inside her rustic home. To claim that she deliberately left it the slightest bit unkempt to piss the monarch off was... Probably true. Bad faith was never an argument the former scientist held in high regard, though it seemed otherwise with her next concoction of words:

"To be honest, I don't have much that shit for you to do. You know, because you're royal and all. I could just let you sit here and be treated like a queen, but then that would make your job entirely redundant, huh? I bet you get that on the daily. How about someone be an asshole to you and be able to get away with it for a change?"

Uhh... Good timing to be saying all this shit, funnily enough.

Rochester kicked some dust off to the side before sniffing, "So... You know what?" The elderly woman paused so that she could extend a hand out and show off the close-to-bursting bookshelf that was conveniently placed in the foyer. Half of those books seemed planted, in fact. Maybe. Hmmm... "You can be a real help to me if you just... I don't know," she clicked in mock contemplation, "You could just sort through these books and get rid of anything considered excessive. I mostly want to get rid of the bigger books, like encyclopedias and treatises. I can get the box for you to put them in if you like, if only because I plan to give some of them away to my interns..."

Tittering in genuine but restrained contentment, she shook her head... Almost as if she were treating the "servant" like a friend. Royal status aside, of course. Maybe it was planned, and it was easy to think that way. But Rochester did seem inclined to just sit back and let someone else do the work for once, even if only for a day... She did need to get some shit out of the way, after all.

"Don't worry, by the way. You can get plenty of downtime after this is done with," she grunted dismissively, "I mean it when I don't have much for you to do. Retirement and all that. I think the person whom you betted against just wanted to see you get fucked over a bit. Sorry." She shrugged, then plopped herself onto the couch. "So. Get working. I'll be here to supervise, but contracts are contracts, unfortunately."

I'll try my best to do a follow-up for NP, but NP can still seize my kneecaps if I don't fulfill my promise!!

A few pots and bowls stood stacked beside the unlit hearth, towering two feet over the dirty floorboards. Each piece of crockery was just as filthy, caked in the leftover muck of last night's little gathering. If there ever even was a gathering. It wasn't out of the question that Nerine was potentially "too busy" or "too tired" to clean her shit up. Right now, she was leaning towards the former, marching across the house and leaving Rochester alone. Maybe the older woman could take that time to judge her... friend?... for her shoddy living space.

The sound of Nerine's shitty, heavy boots thudding against wood carried from the room right of the fireplace. After a few minutes, the woman eventually reemerged with the ugliest thing imaginable cradled in her arms.

She handed the infant off to Rochester, and all the while it gurgled. It was saying "let me go you whore" in baby talk, but alas, its pleading would go unnoticed. It stared blankly at Rochester, keeping its hands to itself, its fat face tilted back. Hopefully Rochester would know that its head needed to be supported, but, you know. Nerine didn't seem to care. She gathered her shitty, heavy morningstar from where it just sat on the floor, and strapped it to her armor belt.

"I know you'll only be here for the day, but I'll be gone for the rest of the month. At the least." Nerine glanced back at Rochester and the baby. "There's a rag in the bedroom, just by the box. You'll find some jars of horse and goat's milk in there, just dip the rag in there and give it to her to suck on. There's some chamomile bags around the hearth somewhere, too. She has a cough. Mix the tea and milk, give the rag to her again before she sleeps at night. She has a cough. Don't freak out over it."

Nerine brushed past Rochester. She gently kicked the bottom pot in the hellstack, and maybe if she had a brain, she would have realized doing such was a terrible idea. The top half shuddered, and unable to keep up with its own weight, the pot at the top of the pile keeled over. Two bowls followed, one of which shattered upon impact with the floor. The ugly anti-fetus whimpered and its little, fleshy arms trembled.

With a guilty look, Nerine looked back at the baby. At least it wasn't her problem for a couple of weeks.

"Clean the house while you're at it." she said, turning away towards the door, "It'll give you something to do while she's asleep. Don't take her out of the house. And don't bring your wife over, either. Sophia won't like it. Bye."

For NP: You're free to go after her younger tab instead!

He hated, HATED making other people do work. But it was the bet he was expected to lose. An he won. Funny how that stuff worked out. He had sent Nerine to do some cleaning of his hoot, axe, and cleaning the glasses. Even if the glasses were Odettes. He couldn't really do much when it came to sitting around not doing anything. He had ta do SOMETHING! so, he had pulled a reversal on the gal. While she supposedly did hard work he made lunch. 

Veritas zoomed around the dining room, rushing to put silverware and plates on the table. Sloppily rolled napkins, he had very little skill when it came to precision things like that. It wasn't that he couldn't do it, if he had an hour to do so he could make one like one of them fancy restaurants that he had gone to every now and then. With the golden rings n all. But he didn't have that time, he had realized that the bread had finished and that the onions were nearly burnt by the time he had only an hour to get everything ready as some of the ingredients were time sensitive...Not employers nor targets. He didn't know the word for it either. Shame

As he placed the ordained silverware and plates on either side of the table, making sure they were directly opposite of each other and that the silverware was in the pattern he had seen multiple times before. He began extracting the bread, beans, onions, and other bits and pieces he had made for his current...Masters? No fuck that, they ain't that. Setting out Adafina, Blood Bread (lambs blood bread ), and rosewater sugar pizza (((This is actually the first pizza made that we know of, its more of a pastry, 500 years ago))) 

He had wanted to make a bit more meat for the 2 gals but he didn't have as much time nor the supplies to make the duck he had hoped. His personal favorite and his specialty. Smiling to himself at his handiwork he called up the stairs to Nerine specifically "AYE SKINNEY! CMON N EAT! YOU GUYS GOTTA EAT AN NOT JUST LIVE OFF WINE YA KNOW" 

Veritas was late. When he arrived malcom looked... unhappy. " so, did you have fun wasting your time??" He asked, malcom loomed over veritas. He had incredible posture and a long blade in hand. " time wasters do NOT last. Consider this a warning, veritas. " he took a seat " well, i certainly hope your service makes up for this"

---

NP- so, malcoms gonna be a great servant. Not a second late with incredible service quality.

Hawkes looks up that the man expectantly. "Oh... so you're my assistant today? I suppose you will do,  though I was hoping for someone with a little more..." The small harengon pauses, frowning in thought "Muscle on them. I guess beggars can't be choosers, come along." The scribe quickly turns with a flourish of his robe-like attire, and waves to Malcom to follow him farther into the library. 

"Don't touch anything, by the way. This is a private study of Deneir and these books are a collection and in some cases are very fragile. You can spend your free time in the public wing if you so wish, but for now please keep your hands to yourself unless I tell you otherwise." Hawkes calls over his shoulder as if predicting that Malcom may indeed try to touch the rows of books surrounding them. It takes about a good five minutes, with the small harengon casting glances back at the teacher as he leads him farther into an endless maze of shelves and books. 

Eventually, he stops at a desk with candles that are already burning and a pile of paperwork resting by the flickering light. Sitting next to the desk is a crate of dusty old books. "Alright, so here's what I would like you to do. Put on these." He hands Malcom a pair of gloves that are much to big for his own paws, and waits until the teacher puts them on. "Good. Now I'm cataloging the new arrivals we've recently received, I will hand you  the books I've finished with and I would like you to put them on this shelf from top to bottom." 

Hawkes hops over and slaps his paw against an empty shelf. "Once this crate is empty I will show you were to retrieve the next. We will rinse and repeat until we finish or until dinner I suppose. Though you seem like you can do some good work quickly, so I'm sure we will finish before then." He adjusts his glasses, and seats himself at the desk and pulls out a quill and inkwell.

"Are you ready my good sir? I like to work fast so I do hope you can keep up."

@ NP: He will try his best but he is also like 3' 5" so he often runs into problems. :3c

Admittedly, Hawkes hadn’t been sure about offering his services to the crown prince of Litari, but he was trying to be brave on behalf of his island home… even if he was frightened by the fact that everyone around him was much much taller and bigger than him. He supposes old instincts never truly leave. The harengon visibly startles when Allegro brings up his fright and he grimaces.

“My apologies, your highness, I wasn’t aware I was wearing my emotions on my sleeve. And thank you I think I will take you up on that offer.” Hawkes says, and quickly gets into a free seat with only minimal difficulty getting onto it.  The tea was very relaxing and Hawkes’ flighty demeanor fades as he calms down. His ears flicking forwards at Allegro’s question and he hums.

“Somewhat??? It is not where I originally hail from but it is where I currently make my home.” Hawkes takes a sip of his tea once more before setting it down to listen to Allegro speak, leaning onto the table and setting his face in his paw as he things of a response.

“You are mostly correct, though it was through luck and a quite unusual adventure Whalesong is no longer trapped under the sea. Though the land still maintains its closeness to the waters it was once trapped under for a hundred years. I’m sure if it had been possible back then for people to come and go from Whalesong, it would’ve been the spot to visit.” He removes his glasses and rubs at the lenses with his cloak.

“Unfortunately it was meant to be a trap, designed to drag ships to its depths and trap the survivors within it. It stayed that way for about a hundred years before I arrived on the island.” Hawkes seems to pause, before pulling out a red book that would be small in Allegro’s hands but looks rather hefty in the rabbits paws.

“It would be my pleasure to recount to you what has happened in recent history to the island of Whalesong if you would like… I must confess I very much enjoy telling the tale so I bring it up whenever I can.” He laughs but sounds a little embarrassed by his own excitement.

“It began when I woke up in the sands of the island of Whalesong…”

     "A servant...?" Allegro said it slowly, distractedly. And he was. He conducted a slow waltz in his mind with his baton, slowing down enough to let a butterfly land on its tip, to which he gazed at its wings. It wasn't for a good while that he remembered his guest and smiled lightly at Hawkes. "I'm comfortable with my current staff, I don't need another servant. I appreciate your offer, though."

     A moment passed and the prince shifted in his seat to lean against his table, setting his baton down to lace his fingers under his chin. "If you'd like to stay, however, I'm fascinated in you. I can tell it's taken a lot of courage for you to just talk to me, with how your heart is racing, though it even started faster than the people here. Please, why not sit down and have some tea? This particular blend is very soothing." He took a sip.
     "You're from a place called Whalesong, yes?" Allegro asked sometime later, back to gazing at the butterflies floating around. "My butler gave me a quick rundown of you before you were allowed in. I've never heard of such a place, but it's underwater, if I'm correct? That's fascinating." He stretched his neck. "My kind-- sirens-- are natural sea dwellers, though the sirens of this particular country haven't been in the water for very long, preferring to focus on our singing. I think it would be nice to try to, I suppose, return to my roots. So if you absolutely have to do as I say, I suppose we can start with you telling me all about Whalesong and the waters surrounding it."

“Come again?” He said with a look of shock on his face. How did this man, a prince end up being his servant for today. In fact, he never asked for one to begin with. Usually he was the one being treated like one because they wanted him to deliver letters, slay beasts or other busywork.

“I’m sorry sir, there must have been a mix up. I never wanted any of this”. He gave off a very insecure smile that turned into more confusion when Allegretto said there was no mistake.

“Alright..” he mumbled and looked at the baton that Allegretto was wielding. “If you insist.. do you mind sparring with me?” He couldn’t get over the weird feeling of having royalty be his servant. He was a great warrior himself but not THAT great.

The girl blinked twice in surprise at what she just heard, trying to process the information. A servant? How? She barely had the money to make a decent living. His duty to her wasn't even the most surprising thing, she had never seen a person like that. Those ears...they looked too real to be a costume. 

"I, uh, what...?" she stammered out, looking N'arfi up and down as if she had to make sure he was actually there and not something she imagined. 

She shook her head. No good standing there like a fool. 

"Hey, you don't have to do anything for me" she smiled, and it was true, she had no duties other than those only she could fulfill. It would probably be a little bit mean to ask him to fill in for her at her cheerleader job. 

"Though now that i think of it, if you're my servant, and i can ask you anything..." she mused. "Could you help me make a gift for my sister?" 

A servant for a day? Oh how lucky was he! He certainly had a lot of cleaning he should be doing, but now that he was to have a servant he would be able to make them do all the cleaning and organizing! He looked up at Tarus with a easy-going smile, happily inviting him in to the large room that certainly was a mess with a very, very large assortment of all things gold. They were in random piles, nothing really belonging together. He certainly was a hoarder, his dragon blood making him seek out anything gold or shiny. 

"I'd really appreciate it if you sorted all of this for me. I don't care how either, whatever your little heart desires. As payment, I'll even let you pick a few things from whatever pile! I'm sure you could find a use for it." He smiled, patting Tarus on the back roughly as he moved over to his bed, which was a large bundle of warm and fuzzy blankets, "the kitchen is down the hall if you want anything to snack on while you work, I don't mind breaks. Can't have you passing out from working too hard, hm?" He said with a small laugh. The one servant his mother's had hired for him had nearly passed out from how hard she had to work to try and clean Kassius's mess. He had felt a bit bad, and told her not to worry about it, offering her enough gold things for her to be able to retire to a nice home in the countryside. 

Fukagawa was very much confused. He had never had a servant before, so he knew absolutely nothing of what to get Kassius to do. Honestly, he usually just trained, sparred, or fought. And when he wasn't doing any one of those things, then he wasn't doing anything at all! Besides, he didn't need to eat or sleep to stay healthy, a good sit in the sun, or spar in it, was good enough for him. Many could consider him a walking houseplant. 

So, the O'tsin pursed his lips in thought, looking at the dragon man before him curiously. He supposed he could ask the guy to fight him, but, that almost seemed wrong. Other than that, Fukagawa was still at a loss. He wondered if Kassius knew what a servant was supposed to do...

Wait that's it! I'll ask him! Fukagawa beamed at his genius. 

"So..." He gave the man another friendly smile, to mask his somewhat apparent uncertainty, "As my servant... what is it exactly you'd like to do? For me, of course. I mean, I'm just giving you an open option, it's definitely not because I don't know what to do... with a servant... ha ha ha... definitely" It was a loud emptiness that followed, no words and no response, just two rather unsure fellows looking at each other. Fukagawa scratched his chin in the silence, he supposed that maybe he should give a few examples...

"You could... uuh, fight me?" Yeah, he was a creature of habit.