The OC above is your servant for the day

Maribelle had never been placed in command of another person before, and honestly, she wasn't expecting one as dull and melancholy as Aiko. It was like looking in a mirror. The younger girl didn't like it. For the most part, she just... didn't even glance at Aiko. Something about her made her uncomfortable, and perhaps it was obvious what that something was. Instead, Maribelle focused on shifting uselessly through her papers.

"I'll have to... have to go in a while." she mumbled, breaking the oppressive silence, "I have wall duty. Have to watch the wall."

She took a step back from her desk and walked farther from Aiko. She knelt down by her bed, rooting around underneath for a few moments and easing her crossbow and arming sword out from underneath. She placed them both on the pelts covering her bed. When she turned back to the woman, she still avoided her gaze, adjusting her cloak carefully.

She continued on, a bit more louder this time, but still not relaxed. "I don't want to make a lot of rules for when I have to go, but just... just, if you want to look at my books, or my specimens, just... put them back exactly where they were, keep them organized, and be careful. If anyone but me comes to the door, don't answer it. I'll keep it locked, but there'll be a key." she said, "It gets cold in the fort, so if you want to light the oven, then do that. I'd prefer you'd do it, anyway, because... again, it gets really cold. I have some chicken still left over if you would-- would kindly, uh... bake it for me... I'll be gone just about five or six hours..."

Another flash of discomfort passed through her. She felt even more embarrassed to ask, but...

"Do you know mathematics? Simple mathematics, ah... year six mathematics... I still have time to get ready, of course, so if you do... can you show me? Show me something?"

reserved for follow-up to post below

The contract was sealed with a signature written in pure human sweat, which ensured that the paper would be most official. Everyone knows the wafting stench of B.O. was the sign of a deal unbreakable. For 24 hours, Enzo was under direct control of Hmmm.

The inevitable cosmic Hmmm approached Enzo from the shadows, first an amorphous mass residing in the depths of the dark, soon illuminated by the blaring light overhead. Here was the room of the ethereal Hmmm, completely devoid of features, completely infinite. It was an empty concrete parking garage, that extended into infinity, all axis of existence.

It had length. It had width. It had height. It had trength. It brushed Edwin A. Abbott's Flatland: A Romance of Many Dimensions both above and below, beyond Lineland, and beyond Spaceland.

There were no cars, no people, only Enzo and Hmmm. Enzo was notably larger than the mild mannered Hmmm, though this did not discourage Hmmm. It approached with a jaunty step, skedaddling within mere feet of the fantastical wyvern, where it stopped and blinked its very moist eyes. Then, Hmmm produced from its throat a vile gagging sound.

Akin to a strumpet most foul, Hmmm hissed and hacked, and its tongue brought up from behind its soft palate a glass jar that was in no way physically capable of fitting inside of Hmmm's mouth. It was a jar of sweet green pickled cucumbers. Gherkins, if you will. On the lid, the 'do not buy if pressure seal is broken' indent remained unpopped. It was fully unblemished. Hmmm offered it to Enzo expectantly.

This pickle jar ain't gonna open itself, Brosephone. 

"Oh, you? I believe my husband told me about... A creature such as yourself," Walker muttered while rubbing the back of her neck. Her eyes remained awkwardly averted from the other party's, perhaps because what Smithson told her about them wasn't particularly flattering. "Like the weirdest horse I've ever seen," to be more exact. Walker was never a fan of horses. Actually, she didn't even know what they looked like, so she was pulling this sentiment from the middle of nowhere; it fazed her, but only ever so slightly.

What should've fazed her more was the fact that dealing with servants was typically none of her business, or at least not as much business as it should've been. Due to complications, Walker was aware that she wasn't completely above a servant, having mingled with their work in the past; this made her almost feel empathy for them, and she disdained that. She was rich. They weren't. It was best to maintain the gap for everyone's sake, for society's sake. That was what she was told, and that was what she followed.

Almost.

She stepped aside and allowed the entity to walk in before closing the door. This would only last for a day, right? Hopefully the house wasn't completely ransacked by then. Not that she had an real reason to distrust them, but when she received the contract, the middle-aged aristocrat learned that their name was just... Hmmm. The lack of transparency made her almost throw the paper away right then and there, and now, she wished she had done so. However, like the fool that she was (in retrospect), Walker ended up signing the paper and thus enrolled them into her service. Was it possible to void a contract early?

After a quick glance around the salon, Walker sighed and stated, "Well... Ummmm... Hmmm... I do not have much for you to do at the moment, if I am going to be perfectly honest..." She chuckled yet maintained a straight face. "However, you can start by dusting some of the vases and pots around here." Accordingly, she pulled out a featherduster and gave it to them. "It does not require nearly as much precision as one might expect. Just do not knock anything over, okay? The items in here are all quite valuable and reflect significant status. Replacing them would be very difficult at best."

"Still... Do tell me when you are finished, okay? You do not need to hurry, but I most likely have other tasks in mind for you after this," she finished before dipping her head and walking off towards the kitchen. Well, not really. After passing through the doorway, she stopped just a few feet from it and peered through the opening, just to see what Hmmm would do. Something told her that her signing of the contract was a terrible mistake, and if her fears were realized... Well... She'd have no idea how to react.

annnd here's a quick follow-up for the post below!!

"Ohhh YES! I needed some help around here, too bad you can't be around everyday," she says, putting a stack of papers next to the computer. She turns around to face Walker, making an over-exaggerated curtsy, rolling her hand as she says, "For this day I dub thee the lifter," returning to a normal stance and staring up at her. "Basically, whenever I need you to, just lift me up to something I can't reach. Preferably, lift me by my waist please." She thinks for a moment before continuing with, "Also if you could, can you bring things from high up to me? If you can find the needed item, of course."

Bellus climbs up her steps to return to her seat, spinning around in her chair for a bit before steadying herself in front of the desk. She begins typing, before having a sudden realization and turning back around to Walker. "Oh also! You can grab a chair from the supply closet to sit while you wait to be needed. The closet is down the main hall to the left, three doors down." Turning back to her work she makes one last remark, "If you get bored waiting, I can give you some simple paperwork to do." With that, she types away on her keyboard. 

"Ah..."
Clayton showed no emotion on his face, not even in his voice. But he was nervous. He was a butler! The head butler! He was used to being the servant! Not the master! He exhaled through his nose slowly. Well, he'd taught other butlers and maids before, perhaps it would be similar?
He took a look at Bellus. A child...? No. She looked like one, but he could tell she was different. More mature. More mischievous.
"Well. My plans for today were to clean the windows and vacuum the rugs before noon. Perhaps you can assist me," he said. He was iffy on this. He liked cleaning things his own way. She might hinder him and make his chores take more time. He'd see how she could handle the vacuum. Worst case scenario, he'd make her taste test today's menu.

Clayton followed Davier closely, his footsteps quiet and his face unreadable. He was aware that the young master was nervous about this predicament, and he was aware that his own demeanor was a possible factor into this. Davier seemed innocent and kind-hearted, the kinds of people that, like him, were used to serving instead of being served.
When finally given instruction, the butler took Davier's groceries into his arms with ease. "If I may, young Master," he said quietly. "Leave the refreshments to me. In fact, why don't you tell me what you're craving and I'll make it for you as soon as we arrive to your home. I'm sure there are things that could use tidying, as well. I'll take care of your chores. You won't even know I'm there."

Astronyant

"Oh! A servant! A new one at that at least~" Eleanora's tail flicked playfully, her ears twitching. She removed her gloves, extending a hand to the boy with a small smile. Her skin was patchy, a birthmark covering her hand, "You are quite adorable. I must confess, my past servants have been... not the most attractive in appearance to say the least,"

She moved over to the large piano in the center of the room, taking her parasol which rested gently against it, before moving towards the Davier again, "Do you have any preferred occupation? Of course, we may always find a place for... workers. But it seems your hands are far too delicate to work, so I suggest maybe staying away from physical labor... perhaps tending the flowers?"

Eleanora took Davier out into the garden, extending the parasol from the harsh sunlight as they made their way down the marble steps. She shook her head, placing her gloves back on to cover her patchwork skin, "This is the garden, do you have a flower you prefer? Personally I love Jasmine's... oh it does feel so nice to have someone who I can talk to. I never get to talk to many people. Now, where are my manners... would you like some tea?"

It was... odd, being in the presence of company so quiet and small. The large dragon often found herself shifting her fins in the effort to keep Eleanora from being battered by them as they walked, and even then, they had only been travelling for around 15 minutes. To Tatters, it felt like it had been an eternity, and she noted how Eleanora would often stick to the shade of her wings in the blistering heat.

Tatters had not wished for a servant, much less a traveling companion. Yet she had won the bet between her and a wandering witch. Therefore, according to the rules, the witch had to grant her something in return- though she found herself grumbling once she realized that such a reward was the temporary servitude of a stranger who clung to her feet like a flea to a canine. Ideally she wished to fly off and continue her daily routine, however she was appalled at the thought of allowing the woman to ride her, yet felt rather cruel leaving what appeared to be such a defenseless being on the dangerous surface. So, despite her wishes, she remained grounded and led Eleanora and as she mulled over various ideas on what she could do. 

"Do be careful. A tumble down these rocks could end in your death if you are not wary," Tatters gently advised, suing her tail to guide Eleanora along the craggy cliffs of a mountain. It was with great pleasure she remembered something- a very small task, but one for Eleanora to accomplish nonetheless. A recovery mission.

"Now, do you spot that faint glint in the obsidian cracks?" The dragon bent down until her face was level with Eleanora's height, before using a wicked talon to gesture to a small opening in the cliff face directly in front of them. "A while back, I lost a piece of jewelry that is rather important to me, but I am far too large to retrieve it myself. If you can grab the object, you are free to go. I will not bind you to my daily activities." With that, Tatters sat on her haunches and awaited the rather minuscule task to be accomplished, eager to be free of the company- though she must admit, Eleanora had been nothing if not polite, and Tatters could appreciate her mild demeanor.

Apothewren

Rose's face lit up with joy, an uncharacteristically impish grin spreading across his face.

"A dragon!" he breathed, his eyes shining. "Mine, for an entire day!"

It took every ounce of his willpower to stop himself from jumping up and down in sheer delight, or fling his arms around Tatters. It'd be unseemly, he thought in disappointment. He squirmed in place, his distress evident. And besides, she wouldn't be very happy if I asked to climb on her back. Goodness, she wouldn't be upset with me, would she?

His lip quivered. What was the point of having Tatters as a servant for an entire day if he couldn't..... couldn't fly around on her?

Well, he could...... he could pretend to be in danger, and Roscoe would rescue him from the dragon! Oh, dashing, debonair Roscoe would surely rush forward and save him! How wonderful it'd be to be carried away by him, clutched close to his muscular chest........

Or maybe he could order Tatters to fly down and rain destruction on his enemies. That'd be fun! And they'd have ice cream afterwards, lots of it.

The dragon stood awkwardly, waiting for Rose's instructions. Her eyes burned like torches, as always, and at the sight of them, everything that Rose had been thinking about trickled away into nothingness.

"Can I-" he gulped, blinking nervously. "Can I have a ride on your back?"

mademoiselle (pinging because it’s been almost 3 weeks since your post gngnfdh)

“Well,” Gautier scoffed, walking around Rose, examining him. “I suppose zis is about what I expected when I was told zat I’d be given a new servant for a day.”

He stopped his circling once he was at Rose’s front and turned to face him. He gazed into Rose’s eyes and his face scrunched into an odd scowl. Clearly he was concentrating on... Something.

“... You do not seem like you’re good for much ozher zhan standing around and looking nice. So... Zat is what you will do. You are an ornament,” Gautier said, grabbing Rose’s arm to lead him to a specific spot. “Zhough, I don’t zhink zat is enough... I’d be wasting zis opportunity if I didn’t have you do somezhing, no?”

He closed his eyes and tapped his chin, thinking for a moment, before letting out an exclamation, having an idea he was pleased with. He shed his coat and dropped it into Rose’s arms.

“You will be a human coat hanger. Hold my coat until I take it back; do not drop it or zhere will be consequences.”

—

Gautier has originally been irritated at the prospect of having to act as a servant for a day. The gall of whoever was orchestrating this whole thing! He had servants, he wasn’t meant to be one.

However, this irritation turned to amusement upon meeting Seokyeon; the man’s curiosity reminded him of his own. He was normally the one circling around another, not the other way around, after all.

“Ouais, I am a vampire.” 

Way to state the obvious.

“You may not have met anozher of my kind, yes, but... Who knows? We are everywhere, and we are quite good at keeping secrets.” He smirked to himself as he allowed his arm to be lifted, and gave Seokyeon a bemused look. He hasn’t got any wings hidden under his coat, though, he supposed he could shapeshift just a little bit to give the other man a scare.

Nah. Not right now, anyway.

“I myself am not a good luck charm, mon ami,” he said, his eyeroll audible in his voice. “You’d need a leprechaun for zat. I suppose I have no choice in zis matter, zhough.”

He ducked his head slightly as Seok reached over him, a gasp escaping him as he laid eyes on the violin. 

“Zat violin... It is...” He pauses. “... Merde, I cannot remember ze English word. C’est magnifique!”

He gingerly accepted the violin, grumbling softly as he gets patted.

“Yes... Yes, alright, I can play for you. I’d like to zhink I am quite skilled wizh a violin. And, mon ami... I wouldn’t dream of speaking while playing. I need to concentrate when I play.”

(He plays some Paganini for Seok vwv)

Seokyeon bit his lip, tilting his head to the side as he stands from his office chair and approaches Gautier with a little quirk of an eyebrow. He looks fairly bright to be in the presence of the other, staring down at the smaller vampire with a look of curiosity. "So you are a vampire? I have never met one before!" He grins, reaching out without asking to pick up Gautier's arm, examining his body curiosity, as if expecting the other to have hidden bat wings or some sort of strange bodily mutation. Like a curious child, Seok circles around the other before standing again at his front. "I have a raid mission at 12, something bout a drugs bust, you will come with, I could do with me some supernatural luck." Seokyeon lets out a small laugh, before his eyebrow quirks a little mischievously, reaching over Gautier's head to a cupboard ledge and slides off a finely painted hand crafted violin. He hands it carefully to the other, before patting the shorter man obnoxiously on the head. "For now you can play for me while I work, no talking though, It is distracting."

Umikahw

"Haha, looks like i win again yo! Three times in a row!!"

Duwile cheerfully said, jumping up. Him and Seokyeon were in the Kelstrom's arcade, playing Street Fighter. An older game, but Duwile had a liking for more retro styled games. That's why the equipment in the place wasn't all super futuristic.

As one could imagine, Duwile completely wiped the floor with the other guy. Sure, Seokyeon appeared much more intelligent, with better impulses and reflexes thanks to the police training. But it's hard to win against someone who indulged themselves in video games their whole life.

"Well, looks like you'll be working for me for a while, bro! But... uhhh... i really don't know what can ya do 'round here, my dude... hmmm..."

He looked around the arcade. It was evening, which meant there weren't too many customers present. He saw some kids hang out while talking, one of them eating some chips. The crumbs fell on the floor, which gave Duwile an idea. He smiled, snapping his fingers.

"That's it! I got the perfect job for ya, dude!"

He then went off towards the door marked "Staff members only". The alien didn't spend too much time in there, as soon he walked out of the place, carrying some cleaning supplies, like a broom, pieces of cloth and cleaning products.

"You can do some cleanin' up in my place! First, i wan'cha to scrub the machines good! ESPECIALLY the buttons and joysticks, these get super messy yo. And then, you'll sweep the floors. I really gotta put up a sign tellin these kids to stop eatin' in my arcade, man..."

He was talking to the police officer super casually and not really seriously. But hey, they were in an arcade playing video games and kicking absolute crap out of each other in Street Fighter, there was no need to be formal. Though in general, it seemed that Duwile was just gonna use this opportunity to have his arcade cleaned up for free. However, he soon chimed in, saying

"Ey, there's no need to frown, dude! Sure, you lost a bet, but don't worry, i'll pay back for ya hassle!"

After saying so, he gave the officer a thumbs up.

Smithson had absolutely no idea how such a brightly colored entity even wandered into his place. He wasn't one to judge people for what they wore unless it was a gross departure from what he considered appropriate, but... This was very close to that line. For a second, he thought his son had won some bet and sent this fellow over to his home out of spite; then, right after, he rubbed his forehead as he assured himself, No... This isn't right. I don't think Fitzgerald would do such a thing. Ever.

And just like his son, the older man was pretty convinced that his one-day servant was naive as shit. Way to be nice there.

"Well, I don't know if your tenure will be of much use to 'learning about your planet,'" he drawled while shooting a way glance at the other party's hat, "But... I think we can make this productive." A scoff nearly escaped from his lips before he held his hands together and cracked a few knuckles. That... That should really go, he groused while his eyes now focused on the hat. Smithson almost felt guilty over having this gripe. Almost. Then he remembered that he probably shouldn't be feeling this way in front of a servant, whether they be under his supervision permanently or just one day. He flinched and puffed out his chest, even gave the latter a gentle thump so that he could clear it.

He sighed before adding flatly, "I heard from the contract that you're interested in programming and music, which I can't exactly help you with. My household isn't very technological, and I personally believe music is a distraction from your thoughts." Says the one who constantly complains about thinking too much, but alas. Hypocrisy was a vice Smithson possessed yet failed to acknowledge. "Maybe this shift can teach you lifestyles beyond what you're used to?" Smithson asked with a tilt of his head, "I know for a fact that opulence may not be an experience you're accustomed to, but hopefully I'm wrong."

Stepping aside to let the alien in, he barely mustered a chuckle before stating further, "Come on in, by the way. The work in question won't be too difficult, especially on the muscles. I'll probably just come up with something as we go along." If only he was this nice to his actual servants. Alas, Smithson was probably too surprised by the other party's presence to really be that much of an asshole. Maybe he'd gain his footing later on, but for now... "Just... Try not to raid the entire kitchen for food, okay? I have a lot of food, but... It should be saved for the guests in case I'm throwing a party later..."

pickle you valid necromantic madlad..... keep reviving them threads my dude.... here's a follow-up as promised: