"Are you sure, ma'am? It's a rather old place," the real-estate agent asked her one more time, just to be sure. Eileen didn't quite understand why he was so hesitant, though.
"Yes, I understand. It's been well-maintained, hasn't it? And it's not located near anything dangerous, or contains asbestos..."
"...I suppose not. Most people tend to balk at older places, be it for spiritual or superstitious reasons. I assume that's not an issue for you, then."
"Ah, it is not. Most domiciles of mine have been older than me - European and all such. It shouldn't be an issue."
"...Alright then. Good luck, miss Jeffords."
---
Eileen was quite satisfied with this new place. It looked a tad old, but it was far from derelict. Three floors and an attic, all to herself, for relatively cheap! You just didn't get stuff like that in this economy. How lucky.
The exact where-abouts, which was about the middle of nowhere, didn't bother her much either. She was used to moving around, doubting that she'd stay here for more than a year, or even half of one. Staying in America was usually a transient thing for her, but it was a charming place all the same. Especially if the mansions were this cheap! And pre-furnished, too.
Thus, with a car full of belongings, she was as good as moved in already. Most of it was a variety of clothing, cutlery, and handiwork stuff like toolboxes. Whatever she could do to get small maintenance done. Not that she'd need much of that, the house looked in excellent state.
Taking her briefcase of important belongings, she made her way up the stairs to the door - large, imposing, looking like it was recently varnished. The locks were fairly modern, though. She took out a small key, slowly sliding it in. After a moment's hesitation, she turned it. Once, twice, followed by a satisfying
click
.
The door creaked a bit as it opened into the entrance hall. It was carpeted, surprisingly spacious, with both a closet and a coat hanger. Turning the lights on, Eileen could see a small cabinet or two, though save for a mirror this part of the place was suitably bare.
After hanging up her parka, Eileen took a moment to glance at the mirror, at herself. She looked out of place here, with her green, black-splotched hair, her weird, furred button-up and her informal posture. Well, that was stereotyping herself, she supposed, but taking any photos for her friends would absolutely have that difference called out. She kept that in mind as she continued on, her formless pupils tracing that reflection for a little longer - as if something was unusual about it, though there wasn't.
Then she sauntered into what she'd call the 'lobby', if this was a hotel. She wasn't sure if that was the same, or if this was an extension of the entrance hall, and it didn't matter to her all that much. Two sets of staircases curved upwards on either side, leading to the second floor, while another fancy, more ornamental table stood in between them. Hallways upon hallways were visible from here, promising her a house that wouldn't be fully explored for a while, if at all. Really, she almost wished she got her hands on a map or a blueprint, but no such luck.