Isolation (Aldir, Brielle)

[Aldir]

Music, it was a beautiful thing really. Helen sat alone where she normally did, the gallery of her rather large out of the way home. All around her came the sounds of a harpsichord, Handel’s 7th Suite in G major to be precise at current. The woman lifted a small glass to her lips, tipping it over her lips and letting the liquid burn down into her belly. The music, it was different from the pictures in how it made her feel. The paintings around her, they made her feel whatever the artist had intended at the time, the music made her feel a hundred different things at once.

Her fingers moved in turn with the music as it continued, ghostly notes come from the action as she recalled the movements to the song. Eventually she lost herself in the imagination and it quickly became her reality for that time, her blue eyes lost in the fog of the music. How she longed to be preforming once more, her soul did belong upon the stages and before an instrument. Instead she sat here and listened to the sounds of others as they played the music she so desired to play herself.

Eventually her imagined fantasy came to a halt as the music ended, which she took as her opportunity to down the remains within the glass at her side. She was going stir crazy in this large house; her parents might very well have been mistaken to leave her with all of this upon their deaths. All she wanted was to play her music, and while the instruments were indeed here it was not the same. Helen desired an audience once again, someone to admire the artistry of her music. The woman sighed and stood, approaching the window overlooking the grounds below.

She had hired someone to make the house less empty seeming, someone that was supposed to arrive today. Maids seemed a bit old fashioned to the woman, but at least it would break the constant monotony of her daily routine. When one had everything it was quite funny how that did nothing to satisfy them. Helen liked wealth, but it was not what made her happy. She’d gladly live the life of a pauper if only to do as she loved. For indeed, if one was doing as they truly loved they would never really work a day in their lives.

Helen crossed her arms under her breasts, idly brushing aside a single blonde strand from her face as she stared out the window. The woman was not overly tall, nor overly short, rather falling nicely somewhere in between. Her face possessed a form of aristocratic beauty to it, though slight dark circles ringed her eyes to indicate some lack of sleep. Insomnia had a way of keeping her from the embrace of slumber sadly. Her clothing looked rather like she had just stepped out of a bath, robes of satin and slippers. She saw very little need to dress herself properly most days if she was just going to be sitting around, drinking, and listening to her music.

 

[Brielle]

Roxanne sat in the back of a black taxi, her legs numb from sitting in a nine hour flight, followed by a two hour drive to her newly assigned owner's home. Roxanne's previous owner had suffered a heart attack and died, the owner's family sending her off back to the company for which she worked for. It had only been two weeks after her other owner died, he was a sweet old man, but he was physically weak. It didn't surprise her, but it did sadden her a bit.

Sighing, Roxanne's eyes looked up to see where she was after playing around with her phone. Her eyes widened when she saw a large secluded house. The dark haired ginger felt her heart speed up a little, fearing that this person would be posh and overly demanding. Of course she's worked for many people like that before, yet she still couldn't get used to that sort of attitude; it just rubbed her the wrong way. Shaking that thought out of her head, Roxanne decided to think positively for once since the whole ride that she was enduring. I'm sure she'll be nice, Roxanne thought and forced her pale pink lips to curl into a mere smile.

Before she had come to her new owner, the company had given her some information about the person. Apparently her name was Helen, and she was a very pretty blonde with a surprising amount of wealth on her. Roxanne didn't really believe in the rich blonde stereotype, she couldn't help but think that Helen was going to be a big pushover for the redhead.

The taxi came to a stop at the driveway, the man looking at her through the mirror. "That will be thirty-seven dollars," He told Roxanne, his eyes lingering on her for a moment before returning to the front. Taking out the money that the company had provided for her, Roxanne gave it to the man and got out of the taxi, taking her two luggage bags with her to the front door. Looking behind her, Roxanne saw that the taxi had already driven off, leaving a trail of uplifted dirt.

Taking a deep breath, Roxanne pushed on the doorbell, hearing its short lived melody ring inside of the home. Fidgeting with her form hugging beige skirt that reached mid-thigh, showing her smooth, hairless legs, Roxanne patiently waited for the woman to answer the door, hoping that she was inside.

 

[Aldir]

Helen had noticed the car pull up to the driveway rather quickly, stroking her chin ever so before departing her gallery room. She slowly made her way down the hall and then down the stairs in the foyer, glancing up at a pair of paintings. One a dark haired woman and the other a brown haired man, her mother and father still managed to look lifelike even in their deaths. Pictures and paintings did have something music could not capture, a single moment held for eternity. The downturn of her father’s lips, the arch of her mother’s brow, they served to be so much more lifelike.

The doorbell rang out, Helen briefly considering changing into something more appropriate before casting it aside. It was her home now after all; she did have the right to do as she pleased here. She crossed the foyer and gripped the cold handle of the door, pulling it down and opening the door slowly. Her eyes were met with the sight of a rather attractive red headed woman, young, well groomed based off of appearance. An internal chuckle was had as she wondered at the first impression she herself was giving to the maid, certainly not that of a proper high bred woman.

Her blue eyes followed down to her legs, shaved and well tended to. Helen, in a more cynical state of mind, wondered if such things were required by her employers. The blonde had been raised a bit differently, she was taught etiquette naturally but most things fell by the wayside when compared to her music. In any event she mentally compared it to being placed on a showman's block. Then again, first impressions were everything so the idea could very well have been the woman's own.

“Forgive me if it sounds a bit presumptuous, my dear, but I find myself suspecting you are the one who’s agency I contacted regarding a maid position here. If that is the case than do come in.” The woman stated, her wording articulate and somewhat flowery.

“I must say, at the risk of sounding overly condescending, that I was not expecting a younger lady. In any event, welcome to my humble abode, tis rather a dated piece of architecture I’ll grant you and a tad grandiloquent but home enough it is.” The blonde woman said, sweeping her arm in an exaggerated gesture around her.

A brow raised itself as she looked at the woman, remembering that she had not properly introduced herself. Certainly she likely knew her own name, but Helen had neglected to inquire as the name of her employee. As well as a number of other things, a good deal of liquor had been consumed the night during which so a few details might have been glossed over. Truly she needed to lock up her liquor cabinet, might make things a bit more easy. In any event no time like the present to get better acquainted.

“Ah, but I forget my manners. I am Helen Telimeran, the owner of this household. Might I inquire as to your own name?” The woman asked.

 

[Brielle]

Before the door had opened, Roxanne had pulled her skirt up her waist and fixed her white blouse a bit, trying to pull out any wrinkles that had been made from sitting down. Smoothing down her healthy, thick red hair behind her shoulders, Roxanne steadied herself in front of the door as she waited. Her green eyes looked around the outside property before seeing that the door had opened, revealing the woman, Helen. She did indeed looked like an aristocratic woman, having blonde hair and blue eyes. She is rather pretty, possibly even beautiful.

In response to the woman about being her new maid, Roxanne nodded. "Yes, I've been assigned to you," She said as she stepped inside of the house, putting her luggage to the side. "I'm Roxanne Isabella Fletcher. It's nice to meet you, Ms. Helen. I've been waiting for a while to finally meet you in person," Roxanne said with a smile. She held out her soft hand, showing professionally polished nails. On her slender pointer finger, Roxanne had a shiny ring band made of rose gold. It had been given to her by her grandmother had passed away a few years before.

It was extremely painful to see the only mother figure in her life to die, even if it was peacefully, surrounded by the people that had adored the old woman. Then again, it's not as if Roxanne hadn't seen the eighty-seven year old's life to end. Roxanne unconsciously sighed, which didn't take her long to notice before a sheepish expression appeared on her face. "Do you want me to begin with my duties or..."

 

[Aldir]

Roxanne Isabella Fletcher. A rather mouthful of a name, but Helen committed it to memory easily enough, idly pondering if she went by a short hand name before casting aside for the moment. She had not insisted on a short hand so it seemed rather that she either did not have one, or wish to be called by one. Helen settled for Roxanne at the moment mentally, not overly formal but not too familiar as to be inappropriate. The woman was not exactly too concerned by formality, but she did recognize it as unwise to cross any particular boundaries her new maid might have. At first at least.

A hand was extended to her, Helen noting the glint of gold upon it along with the gleam of well-manicured nails. Seeing them reminded the wealthy woman that it had been some time since last she had done the same with her nails, which had grown somewhat long in her inactivity. Something to rectify at a later date, though such a note was not pondered over for long as Helen daintily gripped the hand in her own and bent down a bit and lightly pecked at the top of her hand. A tad overly formal and not the most ladylike of greetings, but Helen was not shy about laying it on a bit thick for a beautiful young woman.

“A pleasure, Roxanne. I’m certain your services will make my home a much more radiant place.” Helen said with a smirk.

“I would be remiss if I did not at least show you your room before you started, rather a poor head of household I would be then no? Come with me, tis not an overly far walk.” Helen said, starting off through the foyer and clearly not taking no for an answer as she moved regardless of protest.

The wealthy woman ascended the central stairs up to the second floor easily enough, before turning off to the right down a hallway. Vases and small side tables adorned the hall as decoration, the carpet a lush thing and the doors passed by elegantly carved. Near the end of the hall Helen would push open the door, stepping inside herself. The room was somewhat large, a nice bed, a desk, a polished and ornate cabinet, and a table with a couple of plush chairs at it making up the base décor. In the corner there was a covered object, its shape rather like that of a piano and a side door would lead to a nice wardrobe.

Helen made her way to the cabinet and opened it, producing a bottle of whiskey and pouring herself a glass before downing it rather quickly. The liquid burned nicely down and she could feel a slight buzz settling over in the back of her skull from the alcohol consumed today. She poured another glass and left it on the table as she swept her arm around the room. She smiled ever so if Roxanne had indeed followed.

“I trust this will suit your needs well enough. My room is next door, if I have need of you there is a small bell over there that will ring when that is so. Any questions I might be able to answer, Roxanne?” The woman inquired, lifting the glass up to her lips and lightly sipping at the strong whiskey.