The Re-invention of Saga Silverman

It started last Saturday. My father had another of those never-ending receptions, and in the absence of my mother, I got to be the one parading around the mirrored hall, greeting guests and keeping a smile plastered on to my face.

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Of course, the dress was stunning.

Of course, the dress was stunning, a Senzafine. I’m sure someone on Father’s staff knew who my favourite designers were and took care of it properly. And I knew I looked lovely, like a mediaeval princess in a modern palace. At least, that was the impression I was trying to give.

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Someone Else in the Mirror

But the truth was, every time I caught a glimpse of my face in the tall mirror at the end of the hall, I saw myself more as a prisoner than as myself, if that makes any sense. It was like watching a stranger’s face, like seeing someone I didn’t recognise.

That’s when I decided that I, desperate rebel against my father by day, dutiful daughter by night, was going to make a change. I couldn’t do this any more.

I did make it to the end of the night.

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The last time….

But, once all the guests were gone, as I made my way back to the dressing room where Father’s PA waited to help me out of the dress, I knew this would be the last time. And as I walked out of the mirrored hall, I did not look back.

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Staring at the city

Once I got home and into my pyjamas and slippers, I stood for a while at the window, just staring out onto the city. I instructed the autophone to connect me to my mentor—let’s just call him Sampa. Of course that’s not his real name, but it sounds good next to Saga, which is my real name.

“You’ve got to get me out of here,” I said.

“What do I look like, the relocation squad?” He laughed at his own joke.

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I was serious.

“I’m serious, Sampa,” I replied. “I can’t do another one of Father’s functions. I’m starting to think I’ll lose it. Brandon von Oslo was almost attractive to me.”

“That does sound like an emergency.” Sampa didn’t sound as if he understood the urgency of the situation.

“Did you know that if you look out on the city in exactly the right way, it’s like a forest of will o’ the wisps?” I asked. I was squinting and looking out the window. “But I can’t see them at my father’s house. I get headaches there. Something heavy is on my head when I am there.”

“Ohhh,” said Sampa. “OK, let’s think about this. Do you have enough to live for a month or two without income?”

“Oh, I don’t worry about that,” I said. “You can always get work as a tattoo artist, pretty much anywhere you go. Do you know any tattooists who are really far away from New York? You have to: you know everyone, don’t you?”

Sampa cleared his throat. I heard pages turning in his obsolete little book of names and numbers and compromising information. “I have… hm. Four or five friends here in New York, even one upstate, but that’s not far enough away for you, is it?”

“Not remotely,” I said. “Ooh, a shooting star! I’m going to make a wish right now!”

Sampa chuckled. “Let me get back to you,” he said. “I may have a friend of a friend, but I’m not sure where he’s located these days.”

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I started taking pictures off the wall.

I started taking pictures off the wall. Really, I wouldn’t need to pack much. And I should remove the “odd” body paint, as Father had called it when he looked at me earlier that evening. And get my hair bleached and dyed. The apartment is one of Father’s: I would just leave all my shit, except the art stuff and the pictures and clothes that would work with the New Me… who would she be? I thought of kittens and unicorns.

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I liked thinking of kittens and unicorns.

I liked thinking of kittens and unicorns. I’d barely sunk onto the couch when the autophone rang again. “Answer,” I said sharply.

“Saga, I’ve got something for you, but it’s a little weird.” It was Sampa.

“Since when is anything we’ve done together not been weird?”

“Point. Anyway, yes; I do have a friend of a friend, but he’s,” Sampa coughed. “He’s in Alexandria, of all places.”

“Alexandria as in Egypt?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Well, that’s definitely far enough away.” I considered it for a few seconds. “Maybe I can visit the pyramids and meet some ancient gods and learn all about mummies?”

“Or maybe you could work part time in this tattoo shop until clients see what you can do and your business starts to explode.”

“Also a plan,” I said. “I’m pretty sure people like me.”

“They won’t like you down at Dragon in the morning,” Sampa warned. “Shop has got an opening, but my friend can only hold it for you for one week. I suggest you get your affairs in order.”

I laughed outright at this. “Order?” I laughed again.” Order is the enemy, Sampa.”

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That didn’t make it any better.

That laughter didn’t make it any better or any more fun to close the security gate at Dragon for the last time, just a couple of days later. They’d begged me to stay just a few more days, but I said I had to run off and play with the fairies for a while. They laughed at that. I really don’t think I’m all that funny. I really did mean I had to run off and play with the fairies for a while.

I got my hair bleached and pastel rainbowed, packed two bags and a bulging carry-on loaded with my laptop, tablet, and mobile phone. I locked the door of my apartment and shoved the single key underneath. Father—or one of his assistants—could find it when they came around looking.

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And that’s how I found myself on a plane to Alexandria.

And that’s how I found myself on a plane to Alexandria. Once the in-air wifi kicked in, I sent goodbye notes to all my social networking accounts and then locked myself out of them.

Everything is going to be different now. I have pink suitcases full of frilly clothes for fun and work clothes for work. I have holographic body paint. I have my portfolio. I have my own delicate needlework on my thighs, of course, and other people’s in other places. Every picture is a story, every window is a picture, and there are little sprites that come out when the stewards dim the lights on the plane so all these people can sleep.

Style Card:
In all photos:
Body: Belleza, Isis
Head: Genus Project:
Eyes: Go&See, Anona Eyes
Choker: Spell, Branch Choker
Poses: all from An Lar

In the mirrored hall:
Skin: The Plastik, Elvenne, Ahriman
Gown: Senzafine, Varhendis (Available at We Love Roleplay!)
Necklace: Kunglers, Adele Necklace
Hair, Magika, Love
Environment:
Photo Box: D.U.S.T., Mirrored Hall Photobox, 3D

In Saga’s Apartment:
Skin: The Plastik, Elvenne, Ahriman
Hair, Magika, Love
Dress: Les Sucreries de Fairy, Kimberly Long Dress
Slippers: The Dark Fairy, Unicorn Dreams
Environment:
Apartment: Focus Poses, Hello New York
Chair: Ison, Wooden Chair
Couch and Chair: Dreamscapes Decor, Fairy Tale Couch, Fairy Tale Chair
Coffee Table: Bazar, Toronto Coffee Table
Blue Tapestry: Consignment, Stardust
Other tapestries: DRD, Vagabond

At the Tattoo Shop:
Skin: The Plastik, Elvenne, Ahriman
Hair: Magika, No Tears
Jeans: Semller, 25 Point Jeans
Top: Goth1c0, Kath Loose Dress
Boots: DRD, Dirty Combats
Environment:
Shop: Focus Poses, Guetto Background
Tattoo Sign: Daniel Fettuccio, Neon Dragon Tattoo Sign

On the Plane:
Skin: The Plastik, Draziele, Alabarus
Hair: Magika, Solace
Clothes: Giz Seorn, Montana Outfit
Lipstick: Cazimi, Tinted Lipgloss, Natural
Environment:
Plane: FoxCity, Flight Club (Day Travel)

“Woefully Underdressed”

As Fae Awenia comes more into focus, I’m spending more and more time in the newer parts of the Realm and letting others do the last-minute items in preparation for when the paperwork’s all filed and we have an adoring public to think about! So many mundane Realms have opened themselves up to the Fae community; I can’t think why there are there aren’t more places like ours springing up.

Anyway, I had been so busy working on the trees in our little residential settlement I had barely seen the town centre in weeks, so I made arrangements to meet Nathaniel at one of the new, posh restaurants off the village green. Bran assured me when he made the reservation that the place was now fully staffed with professional (fae) waitstaff directly from Nu Jyorck, so I was looking forward to m visit.

The moment I walked in, I knew which table had been reserved for Nathaniel and me. I was only a couple of minutes early, but he was nowhere to be seen (no big surprise there).

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“Madame, I’m sorry, but this table is reserved.”

“Madame,” said a soft tenor, “I’m sorry,” (he did not actually sound sorry), “but this table is reserved.”

“Yes,” I replied. “I know it’s reserved.” Oh, this was going to be fun.

The impeccably dressed waiter looked down at me. He had the soft features of a half-elf, possibly raised in a large enough city that his instincts about the blood wouldn’t be as well honed as ours in Faerie are. Or possibly he was just ignorant. He pasted on a smile. “Yes, Madame; we are expecting a very important guest tonight, and I’m afraid this table is reserved for that guest and their companion.”

I nodded. “Yes, I can see that,” I replied. “The table looks beautiful, by the way: well done.”

“And I’m terribly sorry, Madame,” (Again, he did not actually sound very sorry), “but I’ll have to ask you to choose another eating establishment for this evening. Our dress code is…” he searched his mind for a descriptor. “Well, you are woefully underdressed.”

I stood, and for the first time the waiter appeared slightly more relaxed. Perhaps he was relieved that I was going to comply with his request that I vacate the premises.

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“So,” I said. “I’m woefully underdressed for the establishment?”

“So,” I said. “I’m woefully underdressed for the establishment?” It was hard not to laugh. The poor waiter was now worried he’d got the town nutter. Which, I suppose, I am.

“That is correct, Madame,” he said. He was starting to act nervous.

There was whispering from the kitchen; I suspected there were those who knew me in the ranks, taking bets on how the encounter might proceed. I heard a soft titter. Nobody approached the table: it was just me and the waiter.

“So if I changed my attire?” I fiddled with the button of my jeans, just to make him more nervous.

His eyes went wide. “Not here, Madame!” he exclaimed. “But certainly, if you wanted to perhaps go home, freshen up…..”

I stared into the nearby candle flame. “You mean….”

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“I should look more like this?” I asked. 

“I should look more like this?” I asked.

And then of course the penny dropped. There were high-fives and guffaws from the kitchen; the waiter’s face turned first purple, then red. Before he could catch himself, he said, “Oh, shit.” He swallowed. “I’m … I beg your pardon, Your Majesty.” He went down on one knee.

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I moved closer to him. “Don’t worry,” I said. “Happens all the time.” 

I moved closer to him. He took a step back. “Don’t worry,” I said. “Happens all the time.”

He looked up at me and swallowed. “If you’re sure, Your Majesty.”

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“Of course,” I replied. “No harm done. Well, except for insulting your Queen, but that’s hardly serious, right?”

“Of course,” I replied. “No harm done. Well, except for insulting your Queen, but that’s hardly serious, right?”

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“It’s not as if there’s a painting of me here, yes?” I gestured casually to the painting of me on the opposite wall.

“It’s not as if there’s a painting of me here, yes?” I gestured casually to the painting of me on the opposite wall.

“Yes, Your Majesty, but you were…” He glanced up briefly.

“Yes, I know. Woefully underdressed. Tristan, is it?”

“That’s right, Your Majesty.” His knuckles were white against his britches.

“Bran!”

“Yes, My Lady?” My majordomo is so good about coming when he is called.

“This one needs to come and work for us, I think.”

The waiter (Tristan) turned even more pale.

“As you wish, My Lady. Come along, young Tristan.” Bran held out a hand to the young waiter, and when the fellow took his hand, they disappeared immediately.

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“What?” I directed my remarks to the kitchen now. “It’s hard to find good help!”

“What?” I directed my remarks to the kitchen now. “It’s hard to find good help! That young man was ready to toss a Fae Queen out onto the streets, in order to protect the experience of the Fae Queen! I’ll have him as a footman for at least the next fifty years.”

Just then, Nathaniel came into the restaurant, having missed the whole scene (not unusual). “Don’t you look beautiful, my love!” he said, his eyes warming as he smiled at me. “I feel woefully underdressed next to you!”

Now, no one does bemused like my Nathaniel, so when the entire staff erupted into hysterics, he was the most bemused Husband and Consort ever.

Dinner was excellent, by the way.

Style Card:
Body: Maitreya
Head: Vista Bento Mesh Head, Lia
Skin: 7 Deadly s{K}ins, Helana
Eyes: Mesange, Sanford Eyes
Sweater: Noble Creations, Winter Furry Shirt (Available NOW at The Season’s Story!)
Jeans: Semller, 25 Point Jeans
Boots, Reign, Palia Boots
Hair: Analog Dog (natch!), Hannah (NEW in the Analog Dog Main Store!)
Posh Dress: Witch)O(Craft, Music of the Night Dress (Available NOW at Garden of Shadows Fair!)
Posh Crown: Shanghai, Nymph Crown

Restaurant Background: Cubic Cherry, Lovely Corner (Available NOW at The Season’s Story!)
Table, Chairs, and Yummy Cake: Kalopsia, Gold and Roses (Available NOW at Collabor88!)
Clock: The Plastik, Waine Clock
Sparklies: DDD, Wisp Spirits, Color
Trees: Roawenwood, Winter White Wedding Trees (Available NOW at The Trunk Show!)