Author's Comments:
Names: Dmitri I chose because I love the name. <g> It's also the name of my
computer. <g> Vladimir was chosen by a friend of mine, who says it's the
coolest name ever.
I tend to procrastinate and feel *extremely* self-conscious (ne, xian-pu?),
and I know my work needs a lot of help, so please send me helpful comments
and plenty of nags. <g>
Anyway, on with the show!
__________________________________________
The Mint Key
Name: Erin Montgomery
Experience: Depends on your point of view. Erin is a very, very, *VERY*
eager boy, has learned a lot, but it's all book knowledge and stories,
rather than actual experience. So, in essence, he has a lot of knowledge but
nothing practical he can draw on. He is a *very* fast learner though, and
very eager.
Personality: Energetic and driven to the point of distraction. Were he a
girl he'd be called "giggly" by his peers. He's the kind of kid who was so
bright that he left the others so far in the dust they couldn't see him
anymore, but generally he doesn't use his intellect, preferring to let the
tenor of the moment decide his actions. He's very impulsive, sometimes
jumpy, and always full of life.
Description: Not quite tall, maybe 5'8". His hair is an unruly flame-red
(think Crono from Chrono Trigger) and his build is slender but muscular,
like an acrobat's would be. His eyes are deep, shining green and he has
freckles on the tops of high cheekbones right below his eyes. Curiously, he
wears a single, ever-blooming tiger lily in his hair.
Clothing: Loose. His top is covered in a white tank top, with a loose green
vest worn open over it. He also wears a pair of long, green pantalons that
match his shirt, and sandles. A very Arabesque style of clothing, overall.
Room: A solarium. There's more space than may first appear due to the
amount of plants in the room; there are *tons* of potted flowers and fruits
and veggies and sapling trees of all varieties in the room. There is a
simulated natural creek running through also.
______________________________________________________________________________
Part 1
Dmitri glared at the man in front of him, his boss, who coincidentally also
happened to be his father. He grasped the box he'd been given so hard his
knuckles were white, though he wished more than anything that he could just
toss it out the window and be done with all this nonsense. This was a waste
of time, anyway. He had work that needed to be finished. He didn't have
time to play his father's games. His sullen glare spoke his thoughts
clearly without him saying a word.
His father, Vladimir Gorokhovski, returned his glare with one of his own.
"I had hoped that you would take your Christmas break as a vacation. I gave
you four days off. I had hoped you would use those days to rest. God knows
you need it. But instead, I call your house to find out from your
housekeeper that you went in to work! On Christmas Day!"
Dmitri remained silent, sulking. Of course he'd gone in on Christmas Day.
He had had work to do. And the office had been empty, so no one would
bother him. He glared at his father, then turned his gaze to glare at the
box in his hand. It was a small wooden box, dark and gleaming with polish.
He wondered what was inside, briefly. Plane tickets or a check of vacation
pay wouldn't need to be presented in such a container. But he would die
before he would show his curiosity in front of his father.
"Mitka," his father tried again, using the name which Dmitri hadn't used
since he was a child. "Please. Your mother and I worry. We don't know why
you've decided to avoid us, or why you never come over anymore." Dmitri
wouldn't meet his father's eyes, just stared resolutely at the box in his
hands, a lock of his dark purple hair, its length the one last rebellion he
would allow himself, falling over one eye. "But we are still your parents,
and we want you to be happy."
"I'm happy when I work," was Dmitri's quiet response, the first words he'd
spoken since he'd entered his father's office.
Vladimir sighed. "I know. And you're very good at it." He looked at his
son's face, downturned and emotionless, and willed him to look up. Dmitri
continued to avoid his gaze, his dark eyes burning angrily. Vladimir closed
his eyes for a moment in pain, then opened them again. He had no idea what
he had done to make his son hate him, but whatever it was, he still loved
his son, and wanted him happy. Dmitri had been working himself to the bone,
recently. He was doing a damn good job, and had landed a very important
client. But his eyes had shadows under them, he looked tense and exhausted
and he snapped at everyone he saw. His poor secretary had come to Vladimir
this morning, bawling her eyes out after Dmitri had yelled at her.
This trip would give his son some time away from the office, and a chance
to seek some...relaxation...with a beautiful woman. He had no delusions
that this act would repair whatever damage existed in his relationship with
his son, but it might, at least for a while, make his son happier. "In that
box, Mitka, you'll find instructions. Follow them, and return in two
weeks." His eyes were sad, but his voice was stern as he continued, "If you
return before the two weeks are up, you'll find your job snatched away and
given to some two-bit Yale graduate, and you'll be working in the mail room
as a flunky."
Dmitri raised his head, his dark violet eyes shooting flames of anger and
hatred at his father. But Vladimir was resolute. "It's only two weeks.
When you return, maybe a Vice Presidency will have opened up."
Dmitri snorted. "Fine," he ground out. "I'll play your stupid game. But
only because I've worked too hard for this job to jeopardize it." His eyes
shined with resentment that pained Vladimir straight to his heart. He
sincerely hoped this would work.
Dmitri had opened the box immediately after returning to his apartment.
Inside of the dark wood had been mint-colored satin, beautiful, and soft to
the touch. Lying in it's pillow of decadence, had been a key. About 3
inches long, the key was delicate and frail looking, though when Dmitri had
picked it up, he'd known it was strong and resilient. It was gold with a
pale green ribbon, that matched the satin of the box perfectly, intertwined
through the intricate design at the top of the key.
A frown had appeared on his brow. What the hell was this? When he had
lifted the key from it's bed of satin, he had discovered a small black piece
of paper, with scalloped edges and small gold lettering that read "The
Palace" and had a phone number underneath it. He had snorted. Some
instructions. But he had called the number, and now he was on a plane over
a grand expanse of water.
He leaned his head back against the luxurious seat in the small plane and
sighed. What the hell was he doing here, he grumbled to himself. He should
never have agreed to this stupid trip. Should never have given in to his
father's stupid game. He sighed. He'd known he would give in to his
father's wishes the minute he'd approached him with the box. He knew his
father thought he hated him, but it wasn't true. Dmitri had all the same
loyalties and love for his family that he had been raised with.
He did love his family. If he didn't he would have left the family-owned
company ages ago. He loved the work there, true, but he could easily have
found a job elsewhere and still have been happy. But he loved his parents,
and believed in preserving the business, so he stayed. However, he had
secrets. And his father...
He opened his eyes and looked at the man sitting across from him, reading a
magazine. He was handsome. Dark, ebony hair, which fell just to his
shoulders, blue eyes, bright and clear, and a body that reflected hours
spent outside, exercising. Dmitri's eyes darkened in appreciation as the
man ran a hand through his hair, and the light glinted off the ends.
The man had come to him about three hours after he had called the number in
the box. Wearing a three-piece suit and a serious expression, he verified
that Dmitri had done as the voice on the phone had said and packed his bags,
then introduced himself as "Gold." That was all. Dmitri had no clue
whether that was a first name, a last name or a pseudonym, but he hadn't
been encouraged to ask questions. Gold had led him to the stretch limo
which had brought him to the private airport, all with very little conversation.
Dmitri returned his gaze to the window and watched as the plane began its
descent. Finally, fed up with the silent treatment he'd been given, he
turned to Gold and asked, "So where are we going?"
Gold raised his head and met Dmitri's gaze with surprise in his eyes.
"What do you mean?"
Dmitri rolled his eyes. Pretty, but not overly intelligent, he decided.
"What was the key for? Where is the plane taking us?" He spoke as if to a
three year old, condescending and arrogant.
But Gold took it well. Not even narrowing his eyes at Dmitri's insulting
tone, he replied, "We're going to the Palace. The key is to your room."
"Some sort of hotel," Dmitri surmised.
Gold blinked. "Not quite. The Palace is a resort, of sorts. The key is
to your suite, and your slave."
"Slave?!" Dmitri couldn't keep the incredulous tone out of his voice. The
arrogant tone returned quickly, though, and he continued sardonically,
"Isn't that just a little illegal?"
Now it was Gold who rolled his eyes. "These slaves are here willingly and
of their own volition. The term slave is just that. A term. Your slave
will be Erin. Erin will be at your beck and call, to do whatever you wish.
You are registered to stay for two weeks, but the key is currently for sale,
so if you should choose to purchase it or stay longer, you will have that
option."
Dmitri nodded and returned to his silence. Now it made sense. He couldn't
imagine his father condoning slavery, but a willing female love
slave...Whether it was because he was Russian, or because it was a family
trait,and Dmitri strongly suspected the latter, Dmitri's father was
instilled with the same ultra-charming chauvinism that his father,
grandfather and great grandfather had been. He would naturally assume that
a woman who was there to serve him, to cater to his every whim, would be
Dmitri's dream come true. Dmitri almost chuckled to himself. His father
hadn't a clue. And Dmitri wasn't about to let him in on the secret. He
almost felt sorry for this "Erin." She certainly wouldn't be getting any
action for the next two weeks.
End Part 1
(Chara created by Lina [Todd])