some.free.time.::.OPEN.::.

[Mikael Dorony]

Beaumonde... Not the nicest place, not like the core. The core was all fancy buildings and shiny glass. It was also inhabited by fancy laws and shiny badges, perhaps a bit too many of them. He was on the up and up, as far as the law was concerned. Never did wrong by them, and they never acknowledged him, just as it should be. Still, it wasn't his favorite place in the 'verse. Too much noise from the factories that surrounded every city. The upside was that his port of call this time was New Dunsmuir, the one city on the entire damn planet that hadn't been heavily industrialized. A popular tourist destination, for those that were into ocean vistas. Also the only quiet place to be found, if you didn't mind the noise of the crowds. He did mind the crowds, but not enough that he was going to let it bother him overly. He couldn't hear anything from inside Twostep anyway, and the comforting hum of her systems had lulled him to sleep many times. Perhaps too many, but that was neither here nor there. Whatever trouble there had been, he had gotten out of, and that was all that mattered. Either way, Beaumonde was also home to the Earth That Was distillery, which meant better prices on better drinks. With luck, he would have enough time after dropping off the package to stop by one of the local bars.

Deftly, he flew Twostep down into the city, flicking it to the side in a nimble midair hop as a large freighter passed by, engines coughing out pollutants. Mikael grimaced, but didn't say anything. Better to focus on landing than on getting other captains to keep their ships in proper repair. The landing was gentle, the engines still powering down as he made his way down the ramp, package in a pack across his back. The city was familiar to him, as he had been there several times before, and it never changed enough that he needed to relearn the ways. Besides, the postal office was only a few hundred metres from the spaceport, so Mik didn't even need to go that far. Two blocks one way, one block to the right, and he was there. The package had been paid for in advance, so he didn't pick up any extra funds for delivery, but he was assured that his advance payment could not be rescinded once the delivery had been made. He handed it over to the lady at the desk and walked out. It was that easy. Of course, his client had paid the post office in advance, too, to make sure that they didn't put the item through any stringent security scans. Otherwise, it would probably never reach its destination. He had never asked what the small metal container held.

Stepping out into the city, Mikael stretched and yawned, checking his chronometer. Local time was 1415, only the early afternoon. Time for a drink. He set off into the crowd, slipping smoothly through cracks and spaces between the people that moved through the city. No one paid any attention to him. They had no reason to. With his loose shirt and grease stained pants, he looked like any other worker in the city. Tourists would ignore him, because to their eyes, he didn't make as much money. The law would ignore him, what little there was out here, because he didn't seem like trouble, didn't force his way around. Everyone else...well, they just didn't really pay attention anyway. Ten minutes later, he was stepping into a small bar off the spaceport, walking up to the bar and ordering two shots of Old Earth whiskey. It was, after all, the right time of day. For him, at least.

[Sophia Lila Ross]

I 'V E. B E E N. C O L L E C T I N G. Y O U R. W O R D S.

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L I K E. P R A Y E R S. I N. M Y. P O C K E T S.[/color][/font]

Sophia had been called out for a client. They were having a small formal dinner and and the gentleman needed an escort. The thing about being a companion was most people didn’t look down upon her profession. Companions were fairly well educated and could hold a conversation. Not every client required sex, though most did. This time required three nights and more then just appearing at an event. before heading back to Persephone, she was looking for someplace to just relax. It was hard to just hide away because she had never felt comfortable in pants and her wardrobe consisted of lounge dresses for home and long gowns. To go out Sophia had chosen a cotton outfit with some beading through out it. Part of her lifestyle was she hardly went in public without looking perfectly put together.

After pinning her hair back so her bangs were out of her face, Sophia left the hotel she was staying at. The wrap shawl she had pulled around her bare arms as she tried to think of someplace to go. She wanted someplace off the beaten path. No one she knew would expect her to be there and she could just enjoy herself. Unlike a traditional companion she very much enjoyed a stronger drink or two-but not too many-and a few fun games. Not gambling but just enjoying a good time. Sophia’s parents would probably be ashamed of her but they were in the core. They knew nothing of her sympathizing with the Browncoats and slipping them little tips for a new heist.

Following the hushed noises to a light up building, Sophia pushed the door open. There were crowds of people playing pool and some with cards to their face.s Nothing too wild or crazy as it was barely close to the evening. But her crisp white dress stood out. Holding her head high still, she moved her body to find a seat at the bar. Late in the night she’d head to catch the ship back home. At least she’d make the moments before leaving enjoyable. Removing the silver cloth, she set it in her lap before ordering a Scotch on the rocks. A glance to her left showed a hardened man. Be it from travel or the war didn’t matter. Sophia liked to talk to new people. Watching and learning about them was a good time for her. When her drink was placed before her, she took a sip. ”If only there was drinks this good outside of here.” Sophia raised her glass to the peppered haired man.

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tagged;; mikael/open
word count;; erm no idea
outfit;; afternoon delight
notes;; nada
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[Mikael Dorony]

The crowd fell silent as a woman walked in. Not just any woman, though, Mik thought as his eyes followed the throng. This was a companion. It wasn't an uncommon sight, here in New Dunsmuir. The big tourist destination did attract the wealthy...and the wealthy did attract companions, it seemed. Money, he supposed, was a large help in that regard. Still, companions weren't whores, he was smart enough to know that much. They provided comfort in a galaxy that had so much discord and suffering. That was, as loath as some people were to admit, a necessary service in this 'verse. Most didn't mind them. Some worshiped them. As for Mik... He simply believed that they did their job, and they did it well. Of course, just as with any job, some were better than others. He didn't really know. In his lifetime, he had never had the opportunity (or the money) to speak to many companions. They were still a tantalizing mystery to him, and one he doubted he would ever have the good fortune to flesh out further. Still, in a time like this, it rarely ever hurt to look... And, he said to himself silently, as his eyes found her again, she was worth looking at. He only glanced, though. It was rude to stare, and he did have a strongly conditioned sense of politeness, though he had never figured out why. His life certainly held nothing that would indicate such an inclination. Not that it mattered. She seemed to simply be here for a drink, a will that he could and did fully understand. Glancing again at his own glass, he swallowed the last few drops happily

Absentmindedly, he glanced around the bar again. Spaceports did attract a varied clientele. Quite a few spacers, more than a few of them armed, if subtly. Pistols were easy to hide, small, compact, and they fit snugly under a shirt. Needless to say, many people had one on them, even if they weren't looking for a fight. Out here...even in New Dunsmuir... It was hard to know who one could trust. As for Mik, he trusted everyone, up until the point they lied to him. Then they were eternally liars, and no good could come of them. He couldn't shake the thought that among all the customers, the gamblers, the drinkers... She stood out the most, like a flare against a night sky. Her presence was almost tangible in that regard. A small smile quirked the corners of his mouth up, and he raised his hand for the bartenders attention, having another drink poured.

When she addressed him, he had to look at her twice just to realize that she was talking to him. Interesting, that. Most people ignored him when he was wearing these clothes. Raising his glass back, he inclined his head slightly with a small smile. "Oh, there are. There's drinks all over the place if you know where to look. The difference, you see... is in the price." He took another sip and sighed contentedly. "A good drink is always cheaper near its home port. You just have to know the right drinks for the right ports." He pondered his words for a second, then laughed at himself. "I sound like a rutting alcoholic, don't I?"

[Sophia Lila Ross]

I 'V E. B E E N. C O L L E C T I N G. Y O U R. W O R D S.

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L I K E. P R A Y E R S. I N. M Y. P O C K E T S.[/color][/font]

When Sophia had graduated finishing school and decided on the career of a companion, it almost seemed natural. She had what her parent’s described as a welcoming personality. Anyone was always welcome to start up a conversation with her. She also liked to see people happy rather then despaired. The girl hated all feelings of sadness and anger-they were a poison to the world in her eyes. It had taken a bit to get used to the more intimate aspects. With classes different techniques of what was considered foreplay were displayed publicly. Clothes remained on as it was tasteful and not common whoring. Other things they learned in small groups or one on one tutoring if they wanted to know the more or didn’t understand. But those weren’t the only classes. Different rituals were taught to Sophia and the others as well as ways to open up to someone without revealing too much of themselves. getting too intimate on a mental level opened up for slipping of the professional nature. While she knew it was good to be able to compare and share similar experiences, opening ones heart too much allowed for feelings to fall forward. One could fall in love but then their career had to end then; it was hard in her line of work to keep helping clients as well as keep a true relationship going.

But friendships could be formed even if she wasn’t one for falling in love. Sophia turned her whole body towards the man she was talking to. Despite her job, she still enjoyed the company of what others considered riff raff. They had more interesting stories. Sure the suits paid for her but half the time conversation was dull. There were times that they were very much interesting and made it all the more fun. If she could find a boat to travel on then more oppurtunities for work and meeting new people would arise. ”I’m well aware they are everywhere. It’s just keeping it all for yourself which is so very hard.” In her home were some passing through clients were served, there was a fairly free reign of her home. All her drinks and food were out to be seen. Soldiers appreciated it because there was that extra touch of comfort even if they weren’t roaming the kitchen themselves.

”Well I won’t tell anyone if you are.” There was a friendly twinkle in her eye. Taking another sip of her drink, she gazed around the room. Some eyes stared at her while other’s went about their business. It probably wasn’t every day a companion waltz into the bar. Many preferred finer establishments as it helped them meet more clients. Sophia didn’t have too hard of a time. She traveled around which was a bonus. Most who remained on one planet were used often and a little too familiar with too many men or women. People wanted to stand out a bit more and wanted their escorts to as well. ”Where are you from? Most who sit of alone don’t know many around the area.” Such a case was she herself. Sophia found an empty bar stool away from any congregated groups that were in the throughs of conversation.

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tagged;; mikael/open
word count;; erm no idea
outfit;; afternoon delight
notes;; nada
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[Mikael Dorony]

Mostly, Mik wasn't an alcoholic. Mostly. Sure, he enjoyed a good drink now and then, but he never drank to get drunk. That was plain stupidity. Too many people made that mistake every second of every day. It was dangerous, and in certain circumstances, it was deadly, especially when a person spent a good deal of their time in the pilot's seat of a ship. He'd heard of more than a few stupid mistakes that people had made because of alcohol while flying. He was proud to say that he had always been sober in the chair. More than a lot of people could say, really. Of course, he wasn't really the best pilot in the 'verse. TwoStep was smart enough to bring herself to most places. He was only the vague guiding force behind the controls. Sometimes, he thought that his ship knew more about flying and the movements necessary than he did. It made more sense for why some things happened than mere luck. Which wasn't to say that luck was never on his side. It was, usually. Certain near escapes, close calls, and lucky fights had strayed his way from time to time. When it came to his ship, however, he trusted her more than anything. It was like the old saying went. "Keep Flying." He had, too. As long as he could, he would keep her in the sky. She was his home, his sanctuary, and his one way of staying alive. To him...she was life. That sentiment was cheesy enough that he would never actually say it aloud. That didn't keep it from being true.

Her reaction was nice to see, however. There was none of that...companion friendliness, or so he called it. That soft, gentle tone that steered people towards...feeling comfortable. He had always felt more comfortable with the truth, not the subtle half truth that so many people loved to invest in. The half truth was more common, more reliable, but the truth was incomparably far above and beyond that. Not that he expected every truth... just a true style of speech, one that didn't direct one onto different tangents and around different corners, leading and leading until their way was the only way to go. After all, conversation, and the art of it, was one of the most practiced, yet least recognized, skills that a companion was trained in. As for his experience in the area... Well... He read a lot. Not much else to do on the long runs. If one read, watched news on the Cortex... There were things to be found there, if one had the eyes to see them and the inclination to find them. Time helped too, to sift through the rumors and speculation. Not quite the most enjoyable activity in the world, but it held its certain...interesting tidbits. A documentary by a retired companion had been quite pleasant to read. That had taught him a lot, really. Companions seemed to have quite a strong affinity for psychology, the ins and outs of the human mind.

He shrugged, putting the glass down on the counter. "Don't worry about it... Way it goes for me, if they know who I am, they probably already know I don't really drink that much. It doesn't work when one's piloting a ship across the 'verse. Generally leads to trouble... And I'm not talking about the fun kind..." Mik sighed and looked out across the room, at the music, the laughter, the drinking crowd. His eyes had grown softer, his voice dropping. "I'm not really from anywhere. Ran away from home as soon as I could, left and leapt off into the black... Been trekking through the dark ever since. It suits me out here... How about you?"

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