Resident Evil: The Sitcom (RE8 Sitcom Au)

Part 2: The Deal

Manor Dimitrescu wasn't built on a hill overlooking town; It lurked there, windows starring like eyes narrowed in distain and judgment. A similar expression clouded the face of the historic home's owner. She stood on her balcony while snowflakes landed on her wide-brimmed hat. Face pressed against a comically oversized telescope, Lady Alcina Dimitrescu watched the lights of 418 flick off at last. 

With a decisive "hmph" she pulled back, gathered the silk dressing gown around her waist and swept back inside. 

The lights flickered as the night's freezing wind whipped the manor. Lady D drew the curtains and collapsed into her armchair. Her gaze took in the sumptuous bedchambers, gilded wallpaper, gleaming chandelier, and desk cluttered with documents and ledgers. She knew their contents: Centuries of Dimitrescu finances recorded in the handwriting of dozens of her ancestors; a mess of legalities, marriages, offspring, and purchases. The desk's chaos charted long nights spent pouring over the seemingly endless strings of spidery handwritten records, following the winding path that eventually led to Alcina herself's inheritance of the estate. 

Her family had once owned the mines and acres of farmland, both pooling profit into the treasury. But now the ancient vault held nothing but dust and cobwebs, the family's finances now imperceptibly stored within the digital halls of a modern bank. And as for the properties...well the years of inflation and industrialization hadn't been kind to the Dimitrescu family. Their holdings had waned steadily for the past 200 summed years, being sold or traded to keep some semblance of wealth. And now, the acres Manor Dimitrescu sat upon was now the only claim to the family's once great fortunes. 

Lady D slumped in her seat, weighted by the reminder of painful property taxes and all the expenses of her little family's lavish lifestyle. No lord or lady Dimitrescu had performed a day's work in hundreds of years. Lady D feared she'd be forced to break that pattern to keep her daughters fed. But...there was still hope.

Lady D strode to the desk, pulling from the clutter a gilded envelope from the office of Miranda Rethom, the mayor of Goat's Hollow. It promised the return of Dimitrescu properties and a reclamation of the status the family had upheld since the town's founding. All in exchange for a simple request: Watch the man and his daughter. Report back your findings. Get as much information as you can and use any means you deem necessary, but do not harm either. 

She could not fathom why Rethom would want two common wanderers observed so closely, but the lavish promises of security in status soothed all doubt in her mind over the mayor's intentions. After all, it wasn't Alcina's place to embroil herself in Rethom's personal life. She'd humor the tetchy mayor for now. It would give the girls something to do; they loved a challenge.