Who: Rorschach and an NPC Maid What: Rory discovers the maid service in the Aubade Where: Aubade 404 When: Today Warnings: This narrative contains a half-naked Rory, a terrified maid, and a big mess. Proceed with caution. Note: If anyone in the apartments near Aubade 404 want to have heard her scream, go for it.
Stepping out of the shower in the Aubade was still a strange experience for him. In the Hamartia, the water rarely got warm enough to fog up the mirror, giving him a perfectly clear image of his mask whenever he turned to inspect the stubble on his jaw. Now, the mirror was perfectly fogged over, leaving him with only vague shapes to stare at. He dragged stubby fingernails through his hair, squinting through the water dripping off his brow. A part of him wondered why he even kept up this routine, now that he was unemployed and alone in his home. There was no one to inconvenience, no one to appease by keeping a clean-shaven face and showering regularly. The Aubade was large enough that no one would notice him if he returned to his old ways, to his old habits.
So why didn't he?
It was a question that gnawed at him as he threw open the door of the bathroom - one of at least three in the entire apartment, though he suspected there were more he had yet to locate - and stepped out, barefoot and dripping, into the hallway. It hadn't taken him long to grow somewhat accustomed to the absolute privacy offered him in this massive home, and so within a day he was content to move about as he pleased - there was no modesty to be had when there was no one to hide from.
Arms held overhead, he tousled his short hair with his towel - a towel that looked far too ratty to be owned by someone living in an apartment as luxurious as this - as he padded down the hallway, leaving a trail of water behind him. It was just water, after all, it would dry later. He saw no reason to stew in the hot bathroom, baking until his skin sloughed off. The cooler air in the hallway was a refreshing kiss against his skin, prickling the hairs on his arms and the nape of his neck as he whisked the towel over himself. Beads of water disappeared, leaving behind goosebumps. As he rested a hand on the doorknob of his bedroom, a gentle sound from downstairs caught his attention.
Every muscle in his body tightened, every nerve on fire. Someone was in his home. His home. Abandoning his bedroom, he tied the towel around his waist, feeling the knot rest against his left hip as he approached the staircase. Flattening a palm against the wall, he began to very slowly creep down the stairs, keeping his weight light and evenly distributed between both feet. He made barely a sound as he ghosted down the stairs, reaching the midway point and craning his neck and peer into the foyer of his new home.
He was too late to catch full sight of the intruder, only seeing a flash of white as it entered his kitchen. Glowering, he swiftly slipped down the stairs, pausing in the foyer to try and steal a glance into the kitchen. Seeing a ponytail whip round, he pulled back, quickly pressing his back to the wall. The beads of shower water that once peppered his skin were replaced by sweat beads as he slowly crawled towards the kitchen's entrance, keeping low and as relaxed as he could. He began to shift, leaning into the doorway to see a head of brown hair from behind the island in the center of the kitchen. Whoever it was seemed distracted by something, humming a cheerful tune. Eyes narrow, he crept towards the island on all fours, knees relaxed and off the floor. Reaching the island, he pressed his back to it and began to slide sideways until he could peer around the corner to see this intruder more clearly.
She held the refrigerator door open, partially blocking his view of her. He could see that she was dressed in a clean white uniform, professional and well-fitting. Her hair was pulled back in a tight bun, the gel needed to hold it in place visible even from his hiding spot. Even though he couldn’t see her face, her movements and the condition of the skin of her lower legs made him think that she was approximately his age. She was doing something, but what he wasn’t certain. Suspended on his fingertips, he waited until she was turned just slightly away and darted across to the refrigerator, slowly rising behind its open door until his shoulder was touching it. Pressing a palm against the door, he quickly shut it, turning as he did so that he and this intruder could come face-to-face.
The shriek loosed from her lips was enough to shatter glass. Flinching, he lunged forward, clapping a hand over her mouth to kill the scream. Her brown eyes were wide, staring at him with utter horror, as he pushed her against the counter, boxing her body with his. His expression was grim, as always, and he didn’t even flinch as a bag of groceries crashed to the floor. Milk spilled on the tile, pooling around his bare right foot, but he didn’t move. “Name,” he grunted, pressing threatening fingers against her jaw before moving his hand to let her speak.
Letting out a hushed whimper, she gulped. “Maria Cortez,” she said softly, looking down at the groceries on the floor. “I’m the maid for this floor, I…was bringing groceries…”
He hesitated, giving her an odd look. “Maid,” he grunted, looking down at the milk lake on his floor. “Food arrives, no reason…” He had been noticing the magical restocking fridge ever since arriving. Apparently, it had a reason. “Maid,” he repeated. She stared at him, not daring to move, until he took an abrupt step back to release her from her place crowded against the counter. “Apology. Didn’t know. New.”
Staring at him as if he were an alien, she took careful steps back, biting her lower lip softly. “No problem,” she said carefully. “I’ll just…clean this up and finish here, and I’ll be on my way.”
As she reached for the paper towels, he grabbed her wrist, causing her to gasp in surprise. “No,” he said solidly, giving her a commanding look. “Clean up self. Made mess.” He paused, releasing her and pointing to himself. “Mike Caulfield.”
Again, she was quiet as she stared at him, seemingly unsure of what to say. “Okay…Mr. Caulfield…well. I’ll just let myself out then.”
As she walked slowly and cautiously towards the doorway, Rorschach watched her, turning to follow her every movement. Just before she ducked out, he raised a hand. “See later?”
She looked at him strangely, putting on a fake smile. “Yeah, I’ll see you later. Bye bye.” Her steps were far too swift as she left the apartment, closing the door behind her in record time. Rorschach looked down at the mess in his kitchen, heaving a sigh and pressing a hand against his forehead. He had no idea what he was doing anymore, and it was starting to weigh on him.