The Butler

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The Writing Owl

The Writing Owl

Authoress
Original poster
LURKER MEMBER
FOLKLORE MEMBER
Invitation Status
Posting Speed
  1. Speed of Light
  2. One post per day
  3. One post per week
  4. Slow As Molasses
Writing Levels
  1. Intermediate
  2. Adept
  3. Advanced
  4. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
  2. Female
  3. Transgender
  5. Primarily Prefer Female
Genres
Fantasy, Romance, A bit of horror, magical, and almost everything.
Isabel sat in her favorite chair, waiting for her new butler. She constantly redid her brown braid, her pale and long fingers weaving through the brown hair. She had not had a new servant in quite a while. Her face remained blank, though her hands were constantly moving. Her maid, Mia, walked in and set some tea down next to her, pouring her a cup. She nodded and took a sip. Jasmine, her favorite.

Another of the few maids, Lola, walked in and bowed. "The new butler is here Miss. What would you like us to do with him?"

"Bring him here." Isabel said, her green eyes surveying the two for any sort of fear or excitement. They held none.

The blonde maid nodded. She left to go get the new butler as the other one, a red haired girl, left to go get a snack for her mistress.

She sipped her tea, a hand running through her wavy hair before starting to part it again and braid it. She watched the entrance, waiting for the man to walk into the drawing room.
 
Jack examined his surroundings. It wasn't bad. Nice furnishings. He eyed the blond maid up and down. Under his mask he grinned. At least the maids look lovely. He fitted his gloves and straightened his coat. The maid was here to escort him to his new master. He nodded and gave a controlled smile, "Thank you."

Jack sauntered in with as much dignity he could muster. A butler must always be composed and dignified. A representation of order and servitude. He saw her sitting on what he would consider a throne. There was the scent of jasmine in the air. "Madam Monroe, I presume," spoken with a sharp and crisp voice, lined with undertones of command. Jack bowed with a calculated grace. Enough to show obedience, but not low enough to be a dog. His lavender eyes peering at every detail of her clothes, posture, expression, and gestures. He must grasp everything. Must understand her every need and wants. And most important of all fulfill them.
 
"That is correct. And you are Jack?" She watched the butler. He had experience. "I assume you got my response to your application. I assure you that I will pay you handsomely for your service as long as you provide it well." She sat up straight, shoulders back. Her presence seemed to demand respect as she sat. She looked almost sickly and her legs were completely still.

Mia came back with a few scones but Isabel waved her off. The red head nodded and took the tea from her, seeing that she was done. "Now, if you would be so kind as to help me into my wheelchair, I will explain exactly what you will be doing around here." She nodded to the metal chair next to her and started to move slightly, pushing herself up with great effort off of the chair, but still holding onto it.
 
She looks so cute trying to be tough. But... also quite sad. His mask was perfectly in place and he complied immediately. He was startled by how light she was, but he helped her onto her wheel chair with ease. Not a single frill on her dress was disturbed. He immediately took position behind her and held onto the cold metal contraption. To be unable to use one's legs. Forever reliant on others and this machine for support. Certainly it is a unique master I could have. Jack lowered his face to her ear. His breath warm and soft, "Where to first, Milady?"
 
Isabel held back a shiver. "First to the kitchen. My cook tends to be... well he likes to experiment and sometimes does not come up with edible concoctions. The kitchen is down the hall and to the right." She said, settling herself in the wheelchair. Her hair was loose because she could not finish the braid in time. That was a rare sight since she never let it down. Her two maids were off cleaning, but mostly gossiping about the new butler. Isabel kept her head held high even though she was confined to a wheelchair.
 
Jack felt something off about his lady. He looked down on her hair. How could I miss such an important feature. "I'm sorry, Milady, for not noticing, but it seems your hair is not finished being braided." Now that he realized, this unfinished braid was partly what made him chuckle at her attempt to be regal. With deft hands Jack braided her hair elegantly and quickly. He made sure to not pull too hard nor get anything tangled. "Finished. Now to the Kitchen." He pushed her with reasonable speed. Under his mask he was entirely amused. Perhaps this will be more fun than I expected.
 
Isabel blushed and cleared her throat to compose herself. "Thank you, turn here." She said, turning into the kitchen. "This is my chef, Markus." She said, gesturing to the tall, dark skinned man who was working quickly to prepare a meal. "You will be in charge of making sure he stays... on track when guests are here." She gave Markus a nod. "Now, if you would please take me to the elevator; it's the first door on the left. Quite the machine. I know a man who is friends with the person who invented the newfangled thing. He said it would be useful to help me get around in my home and had one built for me." Isabel played with the small silver ring on her ring finger. It was the only piece of jewelry she had on. She had to resist playing with her hair quite like she would when she was a child, so she played with the old diamond ring.
 
Jack took a few glances from behind his mask and grimaced. The kitchen was certainly not up to his standards of care. He put that away thought for later. Now the chef he could admire his passion for novelty in culinary pursuits, but Jack personally prefer the classic dishes. The elevator Jack found to be most fascinating, yet also disagreeable. Only one other master had one, and it seemed to emphasize the man's laziness. "It is indeed a fascinating piece of work," Jack agreed. He pushed the button to call for the elevator. The doors parted shortly and they both entered. "Which floor, Milady?"
 
"The third." Isabel said. The button wasn't as dirty as the others, suggesting that not as many people went to that floor. Isabel continued to twist her ring nervously. It looked like it had seen better days as she twisted it. The elevator was small, fit just for a few people. As the machine started to move, Isabel relaxed at the familiar feeling. The metal and ropes made a whirring sound as they were pulled up to the third floor of the house, the door opening to a dusty hallway.
 
The second reason why Jack find elevator's disagreeable. It is the weightless feeling they provide when it begins. He found it unsettling and overall affecting his sense of control. The mask was difficult to maintain as if he had no ground to stand upon. As the elevator moved up, its winding gears shifting and pulleys spinning quickly. He played around with the thought he had earlier. My lazy master used his elevator because he did not want to bother going up his stairs to his room, but Isabel needs it to go up to his room. Stairs wouldn't be an option unless... someone carried her. He enjoyed the thought of carrying his master up. There was a certain impurity in it. Holding her by her back and legs. Bodies pressing close. Jack's mask cracked and a smile came through. But it was ended by the elevator stopping once more. The feeling of weightlessness bothered him. He would have to get used to it soon.

The door opened and he noticed the general uncleanliness. I will certainly have to fix this later. As he pushed her out, he noticed she was playing with her ring, twisting it back and forth. Had she been doing that this entire time. Is she worried about something? Jack recalled all the details about her since he met her. She was certainly bothered as she did not have her hair braided. I can't speculate further until I see more.
 
"The last door on the right is my room. Your room is the room across from it. That way, I will be able to get to you if need be." Isabel said, noting the rooms. "The rest are guestrooms that you will be in charge of cleaning. The rest of the mansion is for my two maids to clean." Her eyes lingered on her room before quickly moving back to the wall. She twisted the ring harshly, her skin starting to turn red from the constant rubbing around her finger. "Now if you would please take me to the second floor. My office is the first door you will see coming out of the elevator. I have something I need to... discuss with you and I would prefer to discuss it in a secure place."
 
"I understand, Milady," Jack affirmed. Right across from her own room. It is certainly an interesting positioning. Usually I am housed with the rest of the staff. Jack thought about it further. If I am so close to her, it means she either needs me or needs to keep a close eye one me. Either way it seems I'll be spending most of my time with her as she stated my duties is only with these guestrooms and the kitchen so far. He noted something else he was not used to. She needs me. No doubt she can handle her own affairs but that can only go so far. She has to rely on a wheel chair to move about and an elevator to even reach her rooms. I've never had so much duties concerning a single person. I would normally be in charge of the staff and maintain the household, but so far from what she has shown and told me, my duties are almost solely about her. This is going to be an interesting experience. And these talk of privacy. I suspect there must be something else at works here.

"As you wish, Milady, to the office." Kant once again, called the elevator and pushed her in. He pressed the first floor and braced himself for the sensation. Jack noticed her twisting her ring once again. I hope what she'll tell me is not as bad as I fear. When the elevator finally stopped on the first floor, he pushed her out and into her office.
 
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With Jack's help, Isabel got out of her wheelchair and into her office chair. She got settled before putting her elbows on her desk and folding her hands together. "The conversation we're about to have does not leave this room." She said. Not waiting for him to respond, she continued. "You may be wondering why in my advertisement I asked for a butler who knew self-defense. You see, Someone is out for my head." She paused, letting it sink in. "None of my servants know of this. If they did they would call the police and the whole country would know about it and that would only help the one after me." She stared him in the eyes, her green eyes hardened and serious. "I couldn't hire a bodyguard, that would be too conspicuous. Hiring a butler however..." She left him to fill in the rest as she watched him.
 
His mask almost cracked open as he heard the news. Surprise and many other emotions ran against the borders of his facade. Being a bodyguard? Protecting her from assassins. Certainly I have found a fascinating master. Jack stared into her green eyes. They were deep like a forest, yet fierce, but entirely filled with uncertainty. Jack would have refused by principle. He has never gone beyond his persona as a butler. He was a servant. But by accepting this job he will have to shift. To change into something else. Put on a mask of a guardian. Wearing his mask of a butler he would have to refuse, but something deep within him wanted something else. Isabel seemed so frail in his eyes, but he could feel her strength. He wanted to protect her. Perhaps he can wear this new mask. Perhaps this mask is his true self. Jack was silent for a long time, but it seems he had made this decision already long ago in the streets he crawled from. He put his most winning smile. "I will gladly accept this position. My life will be in service to protect yours now."
 
Isabel gave him a smile. "I am glad to have you in my service. You may do what you wish for the rest of the day. If you have anymore questions I will be here. I am warning you now though, don't get my maid's hopes up. Mia and Lola are innocent young things and should not know heartbreak until a few years from now at least." She said, almost in hypocrisy as she was just as young as the maids, the maids being 20 and she herself being 21. She grabbed a few papers and started to work on paperwork for her company, her pen moving swiftly.
 
Jack grinned at her comment, "As you wish, Milady." With one last glance at his new master, he left the office. Usually he would go through the entire house, check each room, and eventually determine the most efficient way to work with them. But now he could not consider what to begin doing. He had accepted a job he knew was capable of doing. Unlike most butler's Jack trained in different martial arts, and kept up with his training. This was mainly for self defense, but also it gave himself control over his body. It taught him to control each muscle. How effectively to use it. How to perform an action with the least possible energy and movement. Most important of all it taught him to control his emotions. Fear, disgust, nervousness, and even affection. He conquered these long ago, but that was because he hid away behind his mask of a butler. To be only a servant. Nothing more. Nothing less. He would need to first understand the staff of the house before he could even consider protecting them.

Jack laughed softly. "I'm seriously thinking about ways to protect these people. There must be something wrong with me. Jack closed his eyes for a few moments and composed himself. He scavenged pieces of his butler mask, but also added a few more things to it. He would see the world in a different manner. Not only serving Isabel but also seeking ways to improve her safety and the safety of the rest of the house. Jack decided to meet with Markus then the maids. He took careful strides and entered the kitchen.
 
"Augh! Helvete!" Markus cursed, using a fire extinguisher to put out the fire burning the chicken he was cooking with a bottle he had found. The bottle was gasoline. He panted and turned to see Jack. "Ah! Sorry about that... The chicken didn't want to be cooked right." He said, his Swedish accent prevalent in his speaking. His apron was scorched black in certain places and his clothes had burn spots in various places. He looked a bit nervous. "We didn't properly meet. My name is Markus. It's a pleasure to meet you."
 
"The pleasure is mine. I am Jack." He eyed the kitchen, "It seems you've got quite the mess on your hands." He sniffed the air. "Gasoline?" Why is there even gasoline in the kitchen? "I'll help you clean up." He began sorting the mess with he chicken with calm efficiency. "So how long have you worked for Lady Monroe?" He began wiping away residue from the extinguisher off the counter.
 
"That was gasoline? Fan!" Markus said. "I thought Lola put that in the shed!" He grabbed some cleaning supplies and started to help. "I've been working for Miss Monroe for about ten years. I started working for her Father, but he died shortly after Miss Monroe's 18th birthday." He said, cleaning up a bit of gasoline he had spilled on the floor.
 
Jack felt curious as he heard about Isabel's father. "How did he die?" He wondered whether her father was assassinated. Isabel did fear for her own life from assassins. But why is she being targeted. I know she is rich and probably has connections, but enemies? Enough to warrant someone to kill her. It didn't seem right. These thoughts further troubled Jack as he had never delved into any of the politics of the house he worked for. He had overheard secrets, and even was entrusted to a few more than he would like, but he cared little for them. They were the amusements of his masters, and he had no right to overstep his duty. But now he felt as if he needed to know everything. Every tiny detail would be important. Every last secret sought to better fit his new mask. A mask of a butler who would protect his master. He wasn't even sure if Isabel was simply paranoid and creating an elaborate world where she was important enough to kill. He dismissed the thought. Jack had glimpsed into her eyes. He saw something. Perhaps it was fear. Surely he had seen plenty of that in a mirror. He knew fear. It was something to be destroyed and controlled. He finished with his side of the work and looked over at Markus.
 
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