Tale as Old As Time [Finished]

[yamikuronue]

[Imported from NodeBB]

[yamikuronue]

Lance ducks and weaves -- seems he's got dodging down pat, at least. "You wish!" he snarls, his voice low and menacing though his tone is just as lighthearted as before. The backs of his hands have started to sprout coarse, dark fur, and his clothing is itching him.

[yamikuronue]

This was definitely an unusual position for Echo, but then, it was a considerable amount of money.

The Roidmet family was old money, the kind of obscenely rich that made them more like zoo exhibits to the townsfolk in the nearest small town to their estate than people. They had been a fine family: an upstanding young man who gave plentifully to charity, a pretty young wife, and two children, the youngest of which was a darling little girl with big dark eyes who had led the Fourth of July parade three years running. But that was ten years ago, before tragedy struck, leaving mom, dad, and youngest dead, uncle in jail, and the sole heir to all that money a bitter recluse, locked away on the slowly declining estate. People said the mansion was haunted these days, which was silly, because clearly Lance Roidmet was still alive in there... right?

It wasn't for the master that Echo was being sent; the letter specifically requested an under-the-table deal on behalf of a woman named Rosanna, who appeared to have come down with a nasty cough. The position had offered lodgings and a considerable sum in exchange for a house call to avoid any hint of paparazzi, as the family's doctor had passed on the spring prior, and therefore was no longer making house calls, hopefully. It was signed by the Steward of the estate, and since the check had cleared against one of the Roidmet's accounts, it was probably legitimate, if a very strange situation. Still, what's the worst that could happen?

The house was a three-story mansion; while the exterior was in poor condition, and the once-vast gardens reduced in scope severely, the roof looked to be newish, and the fountains that were still running were clean and free of grime. Definitely lived-in but not loved. The massive gates were opened remotely to allow him access, and swung shut eerily behind him as the taxi brought him to the main door to the house. Weird that they sent a taxi and not a driver; most rich people were very particular about their staff.

All that's left to do is knock...

[accalia]

Echo carefully exits the car and pays the driver before closing the door and waving the taxi off.

Echo wore his usual dress, a grey suit that was well worn, and had clearly once been black before a long and active service had bleached it grey. across the back of the jacket is a long splatter of a stain in a darker shade of grey. Underneath the jacket he wears a smart black dress shirt with a twin set of caduceus at the collar.

Echo carries no bag of supplies, nor can any instrumentation be seen in the line of the suit. His face is hard, the chiseled mask of one who has seen combat far more often than any mortal should have to face. A spiderweb of scars covers his face, obscuring his original racial coloration under the mottling of old scar tissue.

Three brisk raps of the knocker, followed a beat and a half later by one final knocks, just as the note had said. Even as he remembers the wording of the note his thousand scarred hands move with assurance and perform the action. The bright crack of the knocker rings out across the empty courtyard.

[yamikuronue]

The door opens, and a surprisingly young man is standing before him; the man looks to be in his mid-twenties, not what Echo would have expected from staff of this particular estate. The man's red-brown hair is pulled back into a neat ponytail, and his uniform is crisp, well-tailored, with each button shined to perfection. The uniform is blue, something a bit softer than navy, but color-coordinated down to the tassels on his shoes. His soft brown eyes sparkle with excitement, but he keeps his face neutral and voice even. The man is thin and tall, with the build of a string bean, and he holds his head high as he gives an elaborate bow.

"Good morning. I am the Steward of this mansion, Sigfried."

[accalia]

Echo bows deeply to Sigfried as the man in a gesture every bit as elaborate as the man had made not moments ago. After rising Echo speaks in a rich, melodic baritone while focusing his ice blue eyes on a point about three feet behind and slightly to the right of Sigfried's head

"Good morning kind Steward. This one has cause to believe that this one has been contracted to the family of this house  by, or on the behalf of, the Lady Rosanna. If this one might enter so that we might discuss this contract in more detail?"

[yamikuronue]

Siegfried chuckles softly. "No Lady, good sir, merely the maid. Rosanna's cough persists, and we are a very private household, preferring to keep our affairs to ourselves. This way, if you would be so kind."

Echo is ushered into a lovely front hall, where his coat and hat are hung up on a hatstand by the Steward before he is led into a back parlor -- not the front parlor, where important guests would be seen, but a serviceable back parlor, more comfortable than impressive. The lamps are tinted to give a warm, amber light, more akin to the oil lamps of days past than harsh fluorescence from modern times, and the taste in artwork that adorns the hallway is impeccable. The armchair he is shown to is firm but comfortable, and a steaming kettle on a side cart next to delicate china cups promises tea in a moment. There are documents laid out on the coffee table before him, waiting to be signed, but first...

"Tea, monsieur?"  asks Siegfried, moving to the cart.

[accalia]

As Echo and Sigfried  walk towards the back of the house Echo carefully observes the house. his eyes making not of minute details that would pass most people by.

The house is old and starting to run down, but it is meticulously cared for and while tired is still in excellent repair. there is no dust to speak of and absolutely no cobwebs not even in the corners. The furnishings are of a style of a century or more although the fittings have been carefully upgraded to modern lighting, without destroying the charm and look of the older style.

The overall effect is really quite impressive.

"This one thanks you for you offer, but will decline. If you could describe to me the malady that has befallen Lady Rosanna, this one would appreciate it. A description of the lady's symptoms would assist this one greatly."

[yamikuronue]

Funny thing about the house, though -- the hallway and sitting room are perfect, but most doors leading off it are shut tight.

Siegfried nods, pouring himself some tea and doctoring it before coming to sit. "The nondisclosure agreement, if you would," he says, indicating the paperwork. "There's also the contract for your services there and some general household rules. We have prepared one of the guest rooms for your use for the duration of your contract and, I dare say, any further contracts you may enter under us, provided the terms seem acceptable."

[accalia]

Echo looks carefully a the documents for a moment then he flips to the last page for the signatures. his hands ten move with practices speed draw a butterfly knife from inside his sleeve, opens it in a blur and twists the point in the ball of his thumb. The knife is once again hidden away before the single crimson drop of blood wells up and falls onto the signature line.

"As required this one will agree to the terms, conditions, and strictures of this accord. until such time as this one is released from the accord, by the expiration of the terms, by willing revocation agreed to by all parties, or by the abrogation of the terms by a party other than this one."

[yamikuronue]

Siegfried allows himself only a single eyebrow raise. "Very good, sir," he says, in his best 'I'm only the butler, I'm humoring you' voice.

"Rosanna has been suffering from a cough that has persisted far beyond its natural lifespan. We suspected that some of the chemicals she uses to polish the silver might have been aggravating it, but a rest from such exposure did not improve her condition. Her chest has had pain, and she became feverish a few hours before I contacted you."

[accalia]

Echo looks puzzled at the description of the symptoms. Troubled he stands and begins to pace slowly.

"This one is troubled at that description.... it is... unnatural. Could this one examine the lady? This one desires no delay, if the lady is feverish there is much danger in delay."

[yamikuronue]

"Of course. This way please." Siegfried, after carefully folding the contracts and placing them into the inside pocket of his uniform jacket, leads the way through a previously closed door to a back hallway.

The back hallway is... clean, at least. Swept, if not dusted as thoroughly as the front hallway. There is no artwork on the walls, though there is a nice choice of wallpaper above a cherry-wood wainscot. The floor is bare wood, no rug to complement the front hallway. It's depressingly... ordinary.

Siegfried knocks gently on one of the doors, waiting for a response before opening it. The room is pleasant and warm, though the furniture is much cheaper than the stuff in the parlor. It's a small sitting room, with a television, a few chairs, and a bookshelf full of ordinary tomes, nothing high literature. The adjoining room, to which Siegfried leads him, is a bedroom, small but cozy, with room for a single bed and a dresser but not much more. The view out the back window shows a neglected garden, bushes growing out of their original spots and spilling over into adjacent plots, with a fountain that's clean but inactive.

The woman, Rosanna, is abed, wearing two-piece pajamas, but sitting up, a book in her lap. She smiles tiredly at Echo as Siegfried steps back, ushering him into the bedroom.

[accalia]

After following Sigfried and carefully observing the state of the house as he moves through it Echo pauses briefly at the door to bow deeply to Rosanna. once he straightens up to his full height he speaks softly to Rosanna, this time his ice blue eyes focus directly on Rosanna and soften to show far more compassion and empathy than the thousands of visible scars would otherwise indicate.

"My lady, this one, having a face name of Echo, has been contracted to examine your illness with an aim to rid you of it. If the lady would consent to an examination this one can begin the process."

[yamikuronue]

Rosanna nods, blushing faintly. "Ain't ye a gentleman," she coos, before stopping to cough violently into a paper-based tissue. Her dark locks would probably be curls if they weren't flattened by fever-sweat, but she seems lucid despite her illness.