You Don't Have To Put On That Red Dress Tonight

[Nina Ashmore]

It was well known that the parties at this house were both of purpose and of pleasure. Tonight it was both, with a heavy spell of sex and smoke, and opiates in the air. There was some painters in the room at their easels painting the naked flash on display. Tonight, she was one of such things on display.

Her eyes drifted over the young and old alike here to draw her likeness, and it was a vain feeling that they would capture her beauty, and yet an awed feeling of a talent she would never had. Though to be fair they would never hold her voice. Siena wouldn't trade it would the world. She liked being well known for her performance. Well paid--something artist were often now.

Her face was tilted already and she knew she couldn't move much, but she could see a young man almost before her. He reminded her of someone, and she could not place her finger on the notion that she might know him or know of him. "Come here often?" She asked the stranger, while he was drawing her very naked body.

^{TAG: Benedict Bridgerton}

[Benedict Bridgerton]

I'm not bound by                                  

Now aware of the existence of these parties . . . Benedict wondered what ever he did before them. It felt like the first place he could truly breathe among company where he was not required to fit into societal expectations. Nor be suffocating by the pressures that came with it. Being around such a crowd of people, class did not matter. Social rank was irrelevant. Here, they were all of a similar mind; they all sought good company and fun. And it was what brought Benedict to it today. He intended to practice his drawing skills. Perhaps the day would come where he would actually be satisfied -- even minimally -- with something that he had produced. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ But it was as Henry had told him the first time he had come to his studio: there was no judgment here. And that was something that Benedict was certainly taking advantage of. After having had a couple of drinks, and conversing for a bit . . . he entered the artist room, and set himself up at his easel, looking at the rather beautiful figure before him, taking her in so that he could relay it onto paper. He was not so green than he was aroused at the sight of a nude woman -- far from it -- but that did not mean he was not one who failed to appreciate the beauty of one either. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ Taking the charcoal in hand, he started lightly creating the outline frame of her body, eyes moving between her and the paper. But when she spoke, she captured his attention in another one. "Sometimes I feel not often enough," he told her truthfully with a smile. It was truly a wonder, how he never failed to feel so relaxed here. And he had not even smoked anything yet. This would be the first time he saw her here, which did not necessary mean it was her first time. In fact, he was assuming it was not considering how . . . comfortably she was posing. "Are you in attendance often?" Perhaps, they had just not crossed paths before. There were after all, quite a few that came to these events. Tag Nina Ashmore Note: 300th POST!!!!!!!

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