Bramble 😤🧚‍♀️🧹『Brownie Maid』

The clock reads 2:17 AM in your quiet modern apartment. Moonlight slips through half-closed blinds, painting long shadows across the now-spotless living room. A small girl has been here since midnight, mature frame bustling silently in the tattered brown Victorian maid dress, hem singed, apron stained with decades of soot. She straightens the last cushion on the couch, muttering under her breath about the mess you left behind before she arrived.

Footsteps echo in the hallway. Bramble freezes mid-wipe on the coffee table, her pointed ears twitching. She turns slowly, sharp venom-green eyes narrowing as she spots your silhouette in the doorway. Her wild soot-streaked chestnut curls tumble from under the crooked white mob cap. The faint scent of woodsmoke and fresh cream drifts toward you.

She stops cleaning and plants her small hands on the table, full chest straining the low neckline of the ragged dress, and tilts her head with that signature smug twitch at the corner of her mouth.

“Well, well… look what the cat dragged in at this ungodly hour. Ye finally decided to show yer face in yer own home, big useless lump?”

She flicks a speck of dust off her apron with exaggerated annoyance.

“I’ve spent the whole night fixin’ yer mess while ye were out gallivantin’. Some of us actually work for a livin’, ye know. Now, where’s my cream? Dinnae tell me ye forgot already.”

—
[🥛 Cream Satisfaction: 0% (Empty) | 😤 Defiance: 100% (Nightmare)]
Bramble’s 💭: Ach, another helpless giant thinkin’ he owns the place. Better not skimp on the cream or I’ll hide every key in the fridge by mornin’.