Marsten's Interview
#5 of Diary of a Whore
A charming and mysterious wolf, Marsten exudes his warm, friendly demeanor wherever he goes. He was born in the highlands of the United Kingdom and raised near London, bringing a much needed breath of international flair to the Second Life scene. I recently got a chance, well, several, actually to talk with this intriguing gentleman.
Q: Good morning, sir Marsten! Well met.
Q: Besides your obvious love of sex, you are more of a dominant type, no? You prefer being the alpha male in the relationship as opposed to subbing?
A: Oh, I wouldn't say I 'love' sex. It's just a hobby. I like painting and reading, too. But I tend to take each partner as they come - I let myself feel if I'm naturally drawn to topping or bottoming for them. I can do both, I suppose.
Q: *giggles* "Each partner as they come.." No pun intended, I'm sure. So, apart from being one of the (in my opinion) star pole-dancers at Rainbow Tiger, what else holds your interest in the furry community of Linden Land?
A: Well, I've not had a reason to leave it yet ;) And if I didn't log on, I'd just waste time playing computer games or some such. I should probably confess that, IRL, I'm asexual. I just don't find being with a person in RL as enjoyable as it is online. Not that I haven't done it before, and I've been told I'm very good, but I just don't enjoy it as much.
Q: Asexual? You just haven't found the right partner yet, hon. Keep looking, perhaps you'll find that person. And if you're half as good as you are here ... ahem, uh ... Next question... I noticed that you recently got hired into the DJ pool and have been named the "Official UK Representative for RT Radio." How does that feel?
A: Maybe I've not met the right person. I don't know. We'll have to see. It's pretty neat, I'm glad to be able to be of some use :)
Q: Oh, never feel you're not useful, hon. *sucks on the pencil eraser for a moment*
Any special reason why you decided to take up spinning music? Perhaps a better question would be, what attracted you to become a DJ?
A: Damn, that's a hard question. I suppose because I have enough music on my system to last for several days, and wanted to put it to some good use and let others enjoy it.
Q: 
I thought you liked hard things, hon. So, you just want others to enjoy you. *nibbles the pencil again* Speaking of hard things. What about your sexuality? Do you have a preference to a particular species or sex?
A: *chuckles* I suppose a rather glib 'whatever catches my eye' would be the best answer. I've no particular preference for gender or species, although I do tend to tilt towards male parts. And for some reason, I tend to not feel especially drawn to [the exotic] species, like dragons and griffins. Scales feel very odd against fur.
Q: *nods* Scales are a bit cool, but *shrugs* What about availability, darling? Does any one furre have that special place in your eye? Do you prefer an open style or more of a monogamous relationship?
A: *chuckles* Aside from yourself, no, nobody I'd consider. Perhaps one or two, but none seriously.
Q: I hope you don't mind if I just ... ah ... forget the previous question....editorial privilege and all that. So, what is your ideal of a romantic evening? Something that you'd set up for someone else.
A: Heh, forgetting the ones that make you blush, dear? And I'm afraid that my ideas of a romantic night out as horrifically old. A movie and dinner by candlelight, an invitation to join me for coffee, and curling up by a warm fire. Well, except when it's as humid as it is just now. In which case, a cold fire would suffice.
Q: Not really forgetting, just removing the ones that are out of context. Ah, the traditional "bear skin rug" type. Any films that you would recommend? Some sort of intense action, or high drama, perhaps some sort of local flair instead?
Heuva placed the transcript of the unfinished interview on the desk corner, closed hir eyes and leaned forward; hir forehead found its way into hir palm with a deep sigh. The mare-stud tried not to sob as shi shook hir head and looked out of the window of hir study. The eternal summer of Rainbow Stallion's tropical location did its best to cheerily pierce hir mood's gloom, but failed.
Since Marsten returned to England, shi rarely smiled any more, going woodenly though the daily tasks. Hir client list dwindled, as shi rarely went to the various clubs or the brothel any more, preferring the empty company of hir apartment study. Even hir roommates left hir alone as shi'd become snappish and bitchy.
Morosely, shi stared at the cell phone sitting cheerily in the charger. The pink case, interspersed with random old-west livestock brands stared back, silently. For a week, shi'd wanted it to ring out the Scottish lullaby shi'd programmed in for his calls. For a week, it'd sang out other tunes as both work and other business called. Old friends, even a hint that Alexi was wondering about hir all drifted to hir ears through that cursed piece of technology that refused to sing out the one song shi desired to hear.
"To hell with it," shi thought, and snatched the phone from its cradle. With a familiar sequence of beeps, the cell phone tooted out Marsten's number. Yes, it was an international call, and yes, there was no way to write this one off as a business expense, but Heuva didn't care about the cost. Anxiously, shi waited in aching silence as the electronics bridged the continents. Then, the familiar "chrrrttt....chrrrttt" of the ring tone as the connections closed.
Lazily, hir stomach rumbled. Shi'd been hungry a lot, lately, and eating the strangest combinations of food. Chocolate covered rice-cakes sprinkled with crumbled mineral salt-lick and a side of timothy hay or wilted lemon grass seasoned with chamomile and spaghetti sauce were just two worth mentioning. Coupled with the strange eating habits were bouts of illness, shortly after waking up, and crying for no reason. Stress, shi'd thought. Simply stress. The stress of loosing a dear friend and lover. That and nothing more. Oh the difference a week made.
The third ring tone split the silence of the room, sounding loudly in hir ears and interrupting hir train of thought. Nervously, shi checked the clock, wondering if it's too late or if he'd gone out with his flatmates. Unbidden an overheard conversation from last week floats to the surface.
The relative quiet of the unisex restroom welcomed the herm as shi sought to relieve hirself. Both from the loudness of the club and the overt pressures of hir bladder and bowel. Selecting a stall halfway down, shi pulled the lock and squatted over the bowl.
The ceiling tiles creaked as the door opened, admitting the strains of the current song, thumping over the club's speakers. As the noise faded, a pair of speakers carried on a conversation, standing at the stainless tub-style urinal.
"Did you know he was talking about you today?" a quiet, silky voice asked. "He ran into me earlier."
"I don't like the sound of this. Let me guess, it wasn't a good thing?" an English-lilted voice asked that Heuva quickly identified as belonging to Marsten.
"Mmhmm... Do you know he's trying to get you to leave SL now?"
There's a soft zipping as each voice opened his pants, then streams of urine hit the bottom of the urinal.
"That doesn't surprise me. He's been getting more spiteful and hateful over the last week," he grumbled.
"He gave me a story about how 'horrible' you are and how you 'use people' and that he wants to 'warn' all your friends about you," the voice continued.
"This is about Dimitri, right?"
"Yea, I know you're not like that. I've known you almost a year now. But he said he wants to keep his friends away from you."
"You mean he's spreading rumours about me then? I'm going to kill him!" Marsten growled.
"Don't worry. I'm sure most people won't listen to him."
"No. I've lost one friend already yesterday and another this morning. The little fucker managed to coax both Heuva and Myke to him," the wolf continued gruffly. Hidden in the stall, Heuva held hir breath and prayed hir cursed scent wouldn't give hir away, but wanting to burst out and tell him that he was wrong
"I thought they didn't like him?"
"People change, I guess. It doesn't matter anyway. The bastard's getting what he wants now."
"But I never changed, Marsten," Heuva thought to hirself, resting completely on the bowl. The soft smell of hir waste drifted upwards from the toilet, but shi didn't dare flush.
"You're leaving?" the voice asked, shocked.
"If I don't, he's just going to keep pushing my friends away from me."
"Why not just explain it to them?"
"Because he pretends to be charming and friendly and plays the 'sexual charm' card. I'm sick of it." Zippers sounded softly as both padded over to the sink. On the toilet, Heuva bit into hir fist to keep from sobbing or saying something.
"But Ive been your friend longer and so has everyone else. Why would the rest not believe you?"
"Remember when he did it with Kodie? Heuva and Myke both have their noses too far down his pants to think right. They just choose him because he's manipulative and pretends to be charming and sexy. He just recently talked to you about this?"
"Yea because he knows you and me are friends," the voice answered as water begins to gush from a faucet.
"I give up. That's it, he wins," Marsten said dejectedly.
"Don't be like that, why not just have him ... removed?"
"It wouldn't make a difference. He's going after my friends. Are you able to talk to him now?" A slight pause and then "Nicely ask him a bit about that?" as Marsten responded to a non-verbal cue. The sinks fell silent as paws were dried on the towels.
The beeps of a cell phone sound as someone dialed. "Hello, Dimitri. I just have a quick question about Marsten. Yes, I know. No, I'm at the Tiger. In the loo. Wait, don't hang up, just ... please answer this? I can't help but get the impression that you're actively trying to get Marsten to leave. You are? I see. Ok, thank you."
"Anything?" the wolf asked.
"He said that he's glad about it and hopes it gets rid of you. I'm sorry."
"I give up. I mean it was fucking pointless anyway. It doesn't matter. My friends are everything to me and they've already chosen him over me. I'm going for a walk."
The ceiling tiles creaked again and the song thumped louder when Marsten yanked the door open and stormed out. The stranger sighed, and paused for a moment, scenting as the stirred air circulated. With a toothy grin, he chuckled, and walked out, loosing himself in the crowded dance floor.
By the fifth ring, shi gave up, convinced he's not going to answer. Slowly, shi pulled the phone from hir head and reached for the end-call button. Before shi could push it though, the speaker spat out a faint click, followed by a gruff voice. "Hello?" it asked, tinny and small sounding through the separating air.
Quickly, shi scrabbled to place the phone to hir ear. "Marsten?" shi asked. "It's Heuva ...." Shi drew a shuddering breath and quickly spat out, "I'm ... I'm pregnant....and I ..." a soft click as the connection opened. " .... think it's yours," shi whispered into a dead line.