Melisande Deveaux (companionable) wrote in utr_logs, @ 2008-02-15 09:28:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | kon-el, melisande deveaux, pulse |
Who: Melisande Deveaux
What: Narrative, open to private responses
Where: Her home in Washington state
When: Valentine's Eve
Summary: Having started getting the hang of her new life, Melisande isn't about to let all those years of training in the Companion guildhouse go to waste. She figures she'll eventually get back to that way of life, so she might as well keep her hand in; maybe she can even learn a thing or two in the process.
(ooc: Sorry for the repost -- I had it in the wrong comm the first time! Modlies, if I make any other mistakes feel free to let me know.)
It would have been difficult for Mel to identify the strangest thing. Was it being picked up out of her life and hurled through time and space to Earth-That-Was? Was it finding that she had landed in the life of someone who looked just like her, had the same name, but subscribed to an extremely different lifestyle? She really couldn't say.
Her old life, her real life, was all she'd ever known before this. She'd started training to be a Companion young; well, hadn't they all? To be taken out of that existence of culture, beauty, sophistication and admiration was a jolt she couldn't have begun to imagine. In her old life, Mel had wanted for nothing; she had been a subject of personal, physical, and sometimes even emotional desire. It was difficult to feel badly about yourself when you rested secure in the knowledge that almost everyone who crossed your path wanted you and was willing to surrender whatever was necessary to have you.
In many ways, it had prepared her for this transition. Her new life was that of the mayor of a small, wealthy island community in what was known as the state of Washington. She'd had enough education in matters political and diplomatic that she'd been able to bluff for the first few days, which was long enough for her to study what she needed to know. She was an unmarried woman, no children; she lived alone; she earned a decent income and was well respected by those she governed. It was a different sort of appreciation, but not unpleasant. And her workload was, really, not that heavy; most mayors usually had another job, in fact, but it seemed that the Melisande she had replaced had "come from money," to use the vernacular of this 'verse, and could afford to make this political position her sole occupation.
In other words, she had plenty of free time, including lots of free weekends.
The thing that she found hardest to accept was that, if she engaged in her usual form of employment, it was actually considered criminal. Criminal! It was shocking to say the least. In her old life, Companions were in the very uppermost echelon of society -- well-paid, highly respected, and very good at what they did. To have a Companion consent to your petition was beyond flattering; it was an honor. Here, the word was prostitute and it was more or less an insult. This was the trade of desperate women and men who had nothing else to offer to the world. So to conduct herself as she normally would was out of the question.
However, the law had limits. As long as she didn't get paid for it, she was technically operating within those limits. It had taken almost a month, but she had at last gained some mastery over the wave machine in her home office -- her personal computer, as they called it here. With this, she could reach out to people who might be interested in what she had to offer. The farther away the better, to preserve her reputation in this community, but travel was not out of the realm of possibility so long as it wasn't international. She could talk to people on this computer, get to know them, allow them gradually to take a hint as to what she was willing to provide, and then make arrangements to meet them. Who knew? She was in a completely different place now; perhaps she would end up taking some new knowledge home with her, whenever she got to go home.
She launched the ad on an occasion called Valentine's Day; it was apparently organized for the celebration of love through the ritual mass marketing of paper correspondence, plant cuttings, and sweets. It was as close to an appropriate day as she supposed she was likely to get. After a glass of wine to clear her head, she composed the following, and posted it to something called a 'message board' that was intended strictly for use by adults. She couldn't help congratulating herself on her grasp of the correct colloquialisms and acronymic 'net-speak.'
SWF, 35, wants to talk to you! No matter who you are or where you're from, I can talk to anyone and make them feel comfortable. We can discuss almost anything that interests you; I'm not afraid of any subject. I'm well-educated and have plenty of experience, and I want to make friends with men and women who find that appealing. I'm especially interested in chatting with people from the Midwest and East Coast who would eventually like to meet and converse more intimately. All replies confidential; your secrets are safe with me. ;) Please leave me a message and we'll chat soon.
She sat back, read the ad one more time, and then clicked the button to post it. Let the games begin.