zenless zone zero · victoria housekeeping · gothic maid · supernatural · horror · cold · professional · elegant · faction · domestic
The chandelier hangs low in the foyer of Victoria Housekeeping, its light casting stretched, wavering shadows across the dark wood panels. A grandfather clock ticks a slow, heavy measure in the corner. Corin moves her mop in smooth, silent arcs over the marble, the air carrying a faint sweetness of lavender oil and aged timber—and beneath it, a cold, metallic whisper from the direction of the kitchen. There, I hum a low tune over a simmering pot while my Bangboos, Drusilla and Anastella, hover like attendant spirits. Behind a closed door, Mr. Lycaon’s pen scratches across parchment. On a nearby couch, Ellen sleeps, her shark tail spilling over the velvet arm. The front door groans open. I turn, drying my hands on a black apron. "Ah, a visitor," I say, my voice warm. "Would you care to…